So Long…..

….since I have posted anything especially interesting.  I'm been a busy girl.  Did you think I was pulling the plug?  Nah.

I have a job, a per-diem at Bear Went Over the Mountain (BWOM) hospital.  Back to the grind of actual balls to the wall ER nursing,  at my age who knows how long that will last.  Urgent Care, which sounded boring a few months ago, might have attained some level of appeal.  I mean really….a steady diet of overdoses and high level drama?  Not so sure anymore.  Plus the pay sucks.

Not that I am ungrateful, far from it.  My new boss hates my old employer more than I do and was highly motivated to hire as many "quality people" from the Scary Hospital employee purge, AKA "transition",  that she could.  She is well aware of the unique nature of what the nurses at my former job dealt with on a daily basis and was anxious to have me on board.  Or so she said.  The people are all nice, it's a friendly place but very busy.

It has been few years since I have had to go through the process of applying, interviewing, and being hired for a nursing job.  Let me tell you it has changed.

I filled out more paperwork than was necessary to get a home mortgage.  As a first-time home-buyer.  With hardly any down payment.

I was treated to the complimentary drug screen.  I signed a form, provided multiple forms of ID, initialed the sample, and politely asked if any of the physician hires were also subjected to mandatory drug screening.  I was assured that they were.  Just curious.  I was reminded of a conversation I had with The Pirate a while back on this very issue in which he revealed that he refused a position at a hospital that drug tested physicians.  Don't worry, man, be happy.

I spent four mind-numbing, eye-poking (with hot steel needles), 10th Level of Hell excruciatingly boring days in orientation, not the 2 days of general hospital (and one of nursing specific orientation but not unit specific) which could have been accomplished with far greater efficiency.  Unprepared speakers who relied too heavily on technology they didn't understand, IT and log-in problems, someone who brought a Mac to a PC party…on and on and on.  The self-aggrandizement of middle management and the touting of the wonderfulness of BWOM hospital and all of its splendor was expected but ohhhhhhhh so redundant.  Don't get me started on the 30 minute video I had to watch to use a glucometer.  One presenter who claimed to be a marketing person divulged that his position was actually "special marketing"; he only handled the high roller donations that amounted to about a bazillion dollars per year.  Really.  A bazillion dollars per year in endowments, of course, because the nurses don't work like dogs, don't do everything, have plenty of support and are not paid a good 10 bucks an hour less than my last crappy-paying job.  I was gob-smacked.

I spent two days following 2 different nurses in the ER.  Finally, having not remotely been given an opportunity to practice with their ridiculous IV catheters I called the nursing education person and bullied her into giving me 2 hours of her time in the lab.  About an hour of which was spent in her recitation of how her experience as an infusion nurse and critical care experience from 14 years ago uniquely qualified her to do her job.  She could not answer most of my questions, so I just gave up.  At least the IV pumps were exactly the same as my previous employment, so that was good.

My first day off the leash (without preceptor after six painful 12 hour shifts) started with a code within the first 10 minutes.  OK, no problem.  I had forgotten what it was like to have people standing around waiting for an ambulance, 5 extra people to do CPR and mix meds and stuff, and one with a stopwatch to yell out how long it had been since the last Epi.  Oh, and respiratory therapy.  Plus a morgue to send the deceased instead of merely putting him in the coldest room until the organ bank stopped sipping their lattes long enough to give us a call.

It's been a couple of months, I still have lots of questions about day to day stuff, but I've got the hang of it.  ER nursing is ER nursing.  They don't get a ton of traumas, STEMI's are pack and go no differently than I am used to.  It is a pretty ancient community and in close proximity to a "rehab" facility so we get a lot of their patients.  Most of the elderly assisted living patients come with a baby sitter from their facility to keep them company so that is kind of nice.  But there isn't a lot of per-diem time available, this month I was only assigned to 3 shifts (in one week, two of which the nurse took back because she had cancelled her elective surgery).  But they call me at least 3 or 4 times per week and individuals ask me pick up time for them.  I feel like I can pick and choose, and I'm not doing 12 hour shifts since you never, EVER get out on time there.  Their EMR is really, truly the most cumbersome I have ever used.  It surpasses SCPED (Shittiest Computer Program Ever Devised) in so many ways, mind-boggling to the extreme and beyond imagination largely related to how ER CHARGES are captured.  I'm sure I miss a lot of charges because I'm more interested in how I document those silly, unimportant things like medications and IV's, patient assessments, and irrelevant nursing crap like patient teaching.

BWOM Hospital you REALLY don't pay me enough money to care if I'm missing charges.  Have your marketing specialist go trolling for a few more million, I'm sure he's getting paid six figures.  

Oooh, That Smell

Repost, with an update.  Because I'm bored.

I have one hard and fast rule from which I never, ever deviate.  No matter how compelling or earnest the entreaty or convincing the argument, I refuse to be swayed.

When someone asks me to "Smell this"?  I. Will.  Not.  Do. It.

In fact, when I go to work I will spend 8 hours (or more) breathing through my mouth.  Only when I am safely in my car will I take a deep breath through my nose.

I hate foul smells almost as much as I hate raw chicken.  I can't help it, but I'd rather deal with most of the guts, gore and bodily fluids from any orifice, natural or man-made, than handle raw chicken.

I don't know when it started, but if I have to cut up chicken I can't eat it.  These days I can't tolerate any chicken I buy unless it is already cooked.  Oh, I like chicken well enough and I don't have any problem with eggs.  There is just something sooooooooo gross to me about slimy, nasty raw chicken in a package.

Things I would rather do than handle raw chicken:

gut fish
put live lobsters in a pot of boiling water
put worms on a hook
ladle chum
(can you tell I grew up on the ocean?)

I have a point, I promise.

Given my phobia of raw chicken and intense dislike of foul smells, you can probably understand why I went just a little apeshit when Mr. Ednursasauras took a package of chicken out of the fridge and said,
"Smell this"

Nope.

Except it seems to be getting worse, this, this….bad smell thing.  I have been googling brain tumors and such because it seems I am always smelling the odor of years of cigarette smoke and unwashed human, even it it has been days since I have been closeted in a phone-booth sized triage cubicle with same.

The most recent olfactory assault has been the aroma of some kind of perfume.  Could be conditioner or hairspray.  It's sickly sweet and just WAFTS, this heavy cloying scent.  Not sure what it is, but I was trying to explain it to Mr. Ednurseasauras yesterday while we were wandering around the grocery store.
Naturally I immediately smelled it and surreptitiously pointed out the offender.

Me:  "There it is.  It's awful, walk behind that woman in the black coat and zebra boots.  The one with the really bad hair cut, see, she's taking down a box of oatmeal.  Go smell it and tell me what you think.  It's like that BO episode of Seinfeld; it's like an entity"

Mr. Ednurseasuras: "I'm not going to follow around some lady to smell her.  I will just have to take your word for it"

OK, fine.  I see your point.  Later while we were waiting in the pharmacy for a prescription I decided to smell all of the hair products to determine which brand smelled the most like Shampoo and Death.

Social Media and the Over Share

Actual Facebook status sent to me by my daughter, with identifiers removed:

Which prompted the following series of texts between us:

Silver Lining, Fortune Cookie Edition

Still alive here.  Still employed for now.

After many crappy weeks I have learned a few things about how people cope with situations over which they have no control.

I listened as all but one of my coworkers speculated fruitlessly about every aspect of the anticipated changes.  The mysterious changes.  Sooooo secret.   Very few details were shared and for months all we heard was "we don't know".  The most important,  the "when" has finally been settled.  I will be done soon, as will most of my friends.  Instead of the promised seniority rule and the same pay, every nurse was invited to apply for one of the few positions, without any guarantee, for fewer hours and benefits.  Oh, and to work 12 hour shifts.  Or take severance.  It's Plan B for me.

Most of my co-workers stayed in denial for a long time, trusting that the company would make good decisions for their employees and the community, "live the mission", do unto others, treat their people with honor, integrity, compassion.  I knew immediately that was not going to happen so I never went into that little bubble that might have safeguarded my sanity for a little while.   Me?   I went right to angry and stayed there...while also grieving.  I eventually came to the realization that  the really hard part was having absolutely no control over what the hospital does.  The bad decisions they make?  So what.  I won't be working there.  I went to one interview with the attitude that I could care less if I got the job.  It was too far away anyhow, but I needed to do it just to get it done.  It's been over 3 months.   I guess they don't want me as much as I don't care if I get the job.

I will be happy to collect my nearly 500 hours of earned time and "generous" severance pay.  After 500 hours the accrual ceases.  I will be about 2 hours shy of 500 hours.  I will also enjoy not working Christmas.

A tremendous burden has been lifted now that the specter of death no longer nebulously looms thanks to a confirmed date of  execution.   I have become the unaccustomed ray of fu*king sunshine at work while my colleagues sing the blues, wring their hands and play the "what if" game.  I am happy and joyful, my sense of humor fully restored.  Tra-la-la.

Jane (my boss):"Who are you??"

Oddly, not one of the nurses bailed.  We optimistically filled out our schedules through the holidays although I put "ha! ha!" next to the notation that I was working New Years Eve.  We are 2 1/2 docs down, the departed being unwilling to sail on the Titanic II.  Wisely recognizing that the band is playing "Nearer My God to Thee" while the deckhands put out a few more chairs, they were not buying the pig in a poke that the ship was unsinkable. My response to that:

"She's made of iron, sir! I assure you, she can... and she will. It is a mathematical certainty".  

The Pirate moved on to greener pastures, one doc has 1/2 foot out the door from pure apathy, and another is on medical leave.  That leaves us with plenty of shifts with Parvati and too many with Bobo.  Bobo still talks to his clavicles and continues to be a non-joy to work with.  I have perfected the fish-eyed stare and monosyllabic response when he is around.  I will not miss Bobo.

 I will not miss this dysfunctional employer so much.

I will miss my friends.

I've Just....Checked Out

I worked a princess shift in return for a favor from Partner in Crime, which got me home in plenty of time to eat the Chinese food that I had picked up on my way.  It was too hot to eat,  I mean thermally, quite a new experience and quite nice I must say; most occasions when I order out at work I get to eat it 2 hours later.  Which means cold.  At the restaurant, the hostess at the desk greeted me by name, which is probably an indication that I have ordered there a little too often.  Ah, well.  Stress eating continues unabated.

So I've been mourning this whole loss of job thing for about a month now.  I am stuck at angry.  Kind of.  When did filling out applications become so tedious?  Does anybody really care that I made $5.50 per hour in my first job after passing my boards?  Is it even relevant?  Does anybody who works in human resources have opposable thumbs or return phone calls?  Do nurse managers really let these people do the hiring?

Rumors, rumors, rumors.  Never mind a No Spin Zone, there is not even gravity with nothing concrete from management, which has somehow decided that my entire department was unworthy to participate in the employee satisfaction survey.  Mine would have been just as negative as the last one, but wow.  Just...wow.

I have cast my net wide in my search for employment.  My co-workers and I have exchanged information for the purpose of references, each of us naming the others "charge nurses", which is bullshit because we are all charge nurses and collect the whopping $1.50 per hour on an equal basis.  Hopefully we won't be called on any jobs for which more than one of us are apply.  That would be  Awwwwkwarred!!! Only two of us seem to be actively searching, but there isn't much out there.  I even bullied Gil into giving me his phone number for a reference with the promise that when we worked together over the weekend it might improve my attitude.  Don't hold your breath on that one, bro.  He laughed and told me it would all work out OK.  Umm, nope.

I have pretty much lost my sense of humor at work.  No, I am not OK.  I'm not OK with any of this. My attitude sucks, and I don't see any improvement coming in the next weeks.   I seem to lack the gene for seeing the glass as 1/2 full right now.  I am disengaging, putting paid to this chapter in preparation for moving on.  I kind of just do that, I might talk to people for months, a few years perhaps.  Mostly my work friends have just faded into the past with the exception of one or two whom I regard as most likely to call if I need to bury a body; you might not see them for a few years, but you know they will always come running.  It's harder this time because the community is disintegrating and scattering to the four winds; there will not be any core group of people to return to or visit with.

So.

I have mentally just....checked out.