Mrs. 100 Watt brought in one of her dirty unruly kids for yet another seemingly silly reason. Inexplicably she had taken one of them to another ER recently where he was admitted for an appendectomy, days after he started saying his stomach hurt. Normally Mrs. 100 Watt will wait a grand total of 10 minutes before bringing the kids to the ER for various boo-boos; something more serious and she waits days, of course.
As she prattled on endlessly about this harrowing experience, she informed us that the surgeon who operated on her son thought she was so astute to have had the son seen in such a timely manner that she "should be condemned as a mother".
SHE said it. She did. Commendation vs condemnation, just give yourself a pat on the back. Or a bat. Or whatever.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Yeah, This is How I Operate
If I have to mix medication drips I generally make a big mess. Yes, we mix our own. The pharmacy doesn't live here. Cabinets open, drawers open, syringes and wrappers, papers, calculators. Usually people know to stay out of my way when I am mixing anything.
This is my kitchen. I also make messes at home, so at least I am consistent. I am one of those cooks who, a)doesn't like it, b) isn't good at it and c) cooks all over the kitchen. As evidenced by the sheer quantity of stuff laying about.
You must be wondering what extremely complicated and amazing dish I was creating to have made such a hash out of my kitchen, right? Well, it was French toast. For me. See that little stack of jam over there? I made that last week. The kitchen was in WAY worse shape than this.
This is my kitchen. I also make messes at home, so at least I am consistent. I am one of those cooks who, a)doesn't like it, b) isn't good at it and c) cooks all over the kitchen. As evidenced by the sheer quantity of stuff laying about.
You must be wondering what extremely complicated and amazing dish I was creating to have made such a hash out of my kitchen, right? Well, it was French toast. For me. See that little stack of jam over there? I made that last week. The kitchen was in WAY worse shape than this.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Roll Tape
Our new electronic medical record system has been in place for awhile, and although I have refused to wear my awesome, neat, super-rad, peachy cool SUPER USER! t-shirt, I continue to pick up a little something new everyday.
Today's conundrum entailed figuring out how the doc could get "buddy taping" written as an order for say, a broken toe. Can't imagine why the hospital would even bother with this, but if they can charge $400 for the doc to write the order it should certainly cover the nurse applying a 12 cent piece of tape. Go figure.
Cripes just gave up. "I don't care if it's ordered, and I am not going to free-text it. It's too much of a pain"
Well, I like a challenge as much as the next person so tried every combination I could think of: tape, splint, buddy tape, buddy splint. Nope, none of those. Nurse tape, finger tape, boo-boo tape, toe tape, duct tape, toe shoes. Micropore splint. Nope, none of those either.
Suddenly, I pulled "Anatomic Splint" out of my a**.
Bingo. That will be $400, and it's not even that cool colorful duct tape like this:
Today's conundrum entailed figuring out how the doc could get "buddy taping" written as an order for say, a broken toe. Can't imagine why the hospital would even bother with this, but if they can charge $400 for the doc to write the order it should certainly cover the nurse applying a 12 cent piece of tape. Go figure.
Cripes just gave up. "I don't care if it's ordered, and I am not going to free-text it. It's too much of a pain"
Well, I like a challenge as much as the next person so tried every combination I could think of: tape, splint, buddy tape, buddy splint. Nope, none of those. Nurse tape, finger tape, boo-boo tape, toe tape, duct tape, toe shoes. Micropore splint. Nope, none of those either.
Suddenly, I pulled "Anatomic Splint" out of my a**.
Bingo. That will be $400, and it's not even that cool colorful duct tape like this:
I left a roll of zebra duct tape on Kate's locker. After I disguised this squirrel in zebra camouflage:
Because some days are just a fun-filled zebra safari. Hark! Behind you! Hoof beats!!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
SHOULD Old Acquaintance Be Forgot?
Harry: What does this song mean? My whole life, I don't know what this song means. I mean, "should old acquaintance be forgot"? Does that mean we should forget old acquaintances, or does it mean if we happened to forget them, we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot?
I recently reconnected with an old high school friend via social media. We exchanged brief Hi, how are your, how have you been?. I ventured a Want to get together for coffee and rehash old times since we live about 2 hours away from each other? I got no response to that. I was a feeling a little...miffed.
I guess having no contact with someone for 39 years puts a bit of perspective on the issue....what was the issue? Something stupid, can't even remember. Obviously it involved feeling hurt and betrayed on my part. Maybe hers, too. Carrie was my best friend in high school even though I always knew she was a little....odd. Not bucket of pig blood and torch the prom odd. Still, she came from a difficult family and was affected by life-long marination in her family's history-steeped greatness, local legend status, and exceedingly high expectations.
Carrie and I stopped getting together on school breaks and weekends as we first grew apart and then, separately, grew up. Certainly not having any contact in nearly 40 years there is not so much a void but a monstrous, massive black hole. High school was a blip on the radar, nothing more; looking back we essentially started drifting away from each the day we graduated. Oh, we wrote newsy letters back and forth our first year, she from college, me from my childhood home. I worked for a year before I started nursing school, the best thing I could ever have done although at the time I felt like an isolated loser. I chafed that I was missing out on all those college experiences that my peers were having and living away from home, but I am convinced it kept me from flunking out of school in the first week.
Over the years, I fleetingly wondered about Carrie. She did not attend either of the class reunions I managed to go to; it seemed she had dropped off the face of the earth. I know she is doing something she loves, discovered via her blog detailing her experiences as a teacher. She is positive and passionate. Good for her. I did not relate my blog experience simply because I prefer to keep my identity to a chosen few. I can count on two puny fists people who know me although a former colleague once sent me an email linking this blog, thinking it sounded a lot like my sense of humor.
I can count on those same two puny fists the number I count as close friends, the ones you could unhesitatingly call in the middle of the night; the friends who will show up, no questions asked, with either a bottle of tequila and a lime; or a shovel and bag of lime. I have been fortunate to become closer to my nursing school friends and remain close to my skating ladies, all of whom have been an amazing part of my life and who know where a lot of bodies are buried*. I did not go to high school with any of them.
I guess Carrie's disinterest disappointed because I expected the same type of instant reconnection with a high school friend that I have enjoyed in the past. Wow, yes, dinner, drinks, a weekend away. WOOT! That got me thinking about how high school was the ultimate forgettable experience for a lot of people. Yep, that would be me. Guess I will just let those sleeping dogs lie; 39 years is probably not enough beauty rest anyway.
Tequila, anyone?
*Disclaimer: metaphorically speaking. No actual bodies were buried.
I recently reconnected with an old high school friend via social media. We exchanged brief Hi, how are your, how have you been?. I ventured a Want to get together for coffee and rehash old times since we live about 2 hours away from each other? I got no response to that. I was a feeling a little...miffed.
I guess having no contact with someone for 39 years puts a bit of perspective on the issue....what was the issue? Something stupid, can't even remember. Obviously it involved feeling hurt and betrayed on my part. Maybe hers, too. Carrie was my best friend in high school even though I always knew she was a little....odd. Not bucket of pig blood and torch the prom odd. Still, she came from a difficult family and was affected by life-long marination in her family's history-steeped greatness, local legend status, and exceedingly high expectations.
Carrie and I stopped getting together on school breaks and weekends as we first grew apart and then, separately, grew up. Certainly not having any contact in nearly 40 years there is not so much a void but a monstrous, massive black hole. High school was a blip on the radar, nothing more; looking back we essentially started drifting away from each the day we graduated. Oh, we wrote newsy letters back and forth our first year, she from college, me from my childhood home. I worked for a year before I started nursing school, the best thing I could ever have done although at the time I felt like an isolated loser. I chafed that I was missing out on all those college experiences that my peers were having and living away from home, but I am convinced it kept me from flunking out of school in the first week.
Over the years, I fleetingly wondered about Carrie. She did not attend either of the class reunions I managed to go to; it seemed she had dropped off the face of the earth. I know she is doing something she loves, discovered via her blog detailing her experiences as a teacher. She is positive and passionate. Good for her. I did not relate my blog experience simply because I prefer to keep my identity to a chosen few. I can count on two puny fists people who know me although a former colleague once sent me an email linking this blog, thinking it sounded a lot like my sense of humor.
I can count on those same two puny fists the number I count as close friends, the ones you could unhesitatingly call in the middle of the night; the friends who will show up, no questions asked, with either a bottle of tequila and a lime; or a shovel and bag of lime. I have been fortunate to become closer to my nursing school friends and remain close to my skating ladies, all of whom have been an amazing part of my life and who know where a lot of bodies are buried*. I did not go to high school with any of them.
I guess Carrie's disinterest disappointed because I expected the same type of instant reconnection with a high school friend that I have enjoyed in the past. Wow, yes, dinner, drinks, a weekend away. WOOT! That got me thinking about how high school was the ultimate forgettable experience for a lot of people. Yep, that would be me. Guess I will just let those sleeping dogs lie; 39 years is probably not enough beauty rest anyway.
Tequila, anyone?
*Disclaimer: metaphorically speaking. No actual bodies were buried.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Is That an African or European Swallow?
We always get tons of calls looking for advice. We are not a free advice service and are prohibited from giving any by our employers other than "if you think you need to be seen, come to the ER". To be honest, these calls are largely an annoyance; we get 10-15 per shift. They pull us away from caring for people who have already made the decision to be evaluated. Don't you get annoyed when you have been waiting patiently in a store or business, only to have your turn for service trumped by a phone call? The most important customer is the one right in front of you.
Sometimes the call is driven by fear or denial and instead of calling 911, people will call us. Easy answer. Hang up and call 911, or I will get the address and call dispatch for them if they are too hysterical. Most of the time though the are all about convenience or lack of common sense. People get truly pissed off because we refuse to give them any practical information. It is a liability. I get that you don't want to talk to your PCP after hours, or it didn't occur to you to call your PCP in the morning before you went to the gym. Perfectly understandable that although you have already called your PCP, you think it is stupid that you were advised to go to the ER and you just want to check and make sure. Unfortunately most PCP's have the same bottom line in the decision tree that we do. Go to the ER.
Some of secretaries are comfortable giving people the standard response: we don't give advice. If the nurses are busy they can at least screen calls for us and give us a head's up before we pick up the receiver. We take turns. Sometimes the calls can be quite amusing, and we award them meaningless points. Everything is made up and the points don't matter though.
I Rock, Paper, Scissored with Lisa and lost on an advice call. We had been forewarned by Jules:
Sometimes the call is driven by fear or denial and instead of calling 911, people will call us. Easy answer. Hang up and call 911, or I will get the address and call dispatch for them if they are too hysterical. Most of the time though the are all about convenience or lack of common sense. People get truly pissed off because we refuse to give them any practical information. It is a liability. I get that you don't want to talk to your PCP after hours, or it didn't occur to you to call your PCP in the morning before you went to the gym. Perfectly understandable that although you have already called your PCP, you think it is stupid that you were advised to go to the ER and you just want to check and make sure. Unfortunately most PCP's have the same bottom line in the decision tree that we do. Go to the ER.
Some of secretaries are comfortable giving people the standard response: we don't give advice. If the nurses are busy they can at least screen calls for us and give us a head's up before we pick up the receiver. We take turns. Sometimes the calls can be quite amusing, and we award them meaningless points. Everything is made up and the points don't matter though.
I Rock, Paper, Scissored with Lisa and lost on an advice call. We had been forewarned by Jules:
Mr. Outdoors: "Hi, I just have a question. Yesterday I was out mowing my lawn, and I had my iPod on my belt, now today I feel kind of warm. And I have a little bit of a headache (and 4 other symptoms like finger pain and grass stains). Then I noticed that around where my iPod was touching my skin it seems a little red. Is it because I was outside and it was hot? Could it be a burn? Should that happen? Would it also cause the other symptoms? How late are you open? Should I come right down or should I wait until tomorrow to call my PCP?"
-15 points for asking more than just the one question you originally proposed
+5 points for mowing the lawn
+10 points for remembering you had a PCP
-20 points for having 3 or more symptoms
+50 points for me for knowing what....is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow.
Bonus points for finding out what was on his iPod
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