Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Don't Bother.

If your idea of being helpful is to loudly berate our agitated and delirious patient while my preceptor and I are attempting to bargain with him to take his medications, merely because he's dropping the F-bomb in our oh-so-delicate, female presence, STOP.

You're not being helpful in the slightest, you're adding to the problem. Not to mention that not only have my virgin ears been sullied by profanity before, I've actually been known to cuss myself!


After spending most of the day with him as a one-on-one patient observer, you should know that being confrontational (and LOUD) with this particular patient is completely and utterly counter-productive.

I like you better when you're surfing on your smart phone or watching TV. Keep that in mind for the next time, or I'll have to have words with you. I'll even refrain from cursing. Barely.

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Midnight Elevator Encounter, or I Know How Stupid it Was...

My clinical schedule sometimes necessitates my parking in a garage near the subway station. The other night, I left the hospital late and didn't get to the garage until midnight.

All I wanted was to get to my car, drive home, and go to sleep. I was beat. So when the elevator doors opened, I only hesitated a moment before entering, despite the guy already on the elevator.


Yes, I know. I was stupid. I should have backed up and taken the stairs or waited for the next elevator. If life had a soundtrack, I'd have heard ominous music as the elevator doors opened, warning me that Something Bad might be about to occur.

As it happened, I didn't give a fuck in that moment. Maybe subconsciously I was thinking, "I refuse to let fear guide my actions." Maybe I didn't want to offend the guy. Maybe I took his slender build in with a glance and realized I could probably take him in a fight (because I'm fucking MEAN when I have to be, and I fight dirty). Of course, if he had a knife or gun, I'd be screwed. Most likely it was just fatigue clouding my judgment.

So, instead of being smart, I stepped into the elevator,  hit the button for my floor, and addressed him loudly, "Where are you going?" I wanted him to turn around so that I could see what he was up to.

Here's where it really gets surreal. The dude turned around and faced me, and he was drooling like a mastiff. I'm not even kidding, it was like a waterfall running out of his mouth, down his chin, and dripping onto his clothes. Incessant. Copious. Disgusting. I don't know if he had some kind of handicap, or if he was high as a fucking kite (though from looking at his eyes, I vote for "high"). Either way, I maintained eye contact as he mumbled something about wanting to get on the train. I cheerfully pointed out that he'd "missed [his] stop," since he needed to get off on the previous floor, and as the doors opened on my floor, I hit the proper button for him and hightailed it towards my car, while glancing over my shoulder to make sure he stayed ON the elevator.

My adrenaline was through the roof at this point and I was darting glances all over the deserted parking structure (which I naturally do anyway, I'm not completely stupid, all appearances to the contrary!) Without further incident I got into my vehicle, the trusty Blue Zephyr, and drove home.

Of course, thanks to the adrenaline rush, I ended up not getting to sleep until 3AM...

Let this be a cautionary tale for all of you, especially my daughters. Don't be dumb. This could have ended tragically and only luck was on my side.
*edited to change "adrenalin" to "adrenaline", because otherwise my daughter was going to stroke out.

Saturday, October 18, 2014


"Red Apple Bakery" air freshener.

In the bathroom at work.

This means that when I run in to pee between clients, I start gagging because it smells like someone took a dump on a freshly-baked apple pie.

This is even worse than pine-scented air freshener. Because sometimes you do poop in the woods, but I hope to God nobody shits on apple would be un-American!


*note all the bullet points in the description at the link...much like adding "in bed" to every fortune you find in a cookie, I just add "with shit" to these descriptions.

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Post-Blogorado Blues

Thank you to the FarmFamily for again making Blogorado a wonderful experience!

A true respite from the daily grind and an opportunity to spend time with my tribe. For me, the shooting is completely secondary. Don't get me wrong, it's fun, but definitely not as important to me as being with my Peeps! It didn't help that I couldn't seem to hit the broadside of a barn this year...I'll blame it on the wind! It was windy as fuck most of the time we were there, and we won't get into the rain that turned the dirt roads into slick nightmares to navigate in our rental minivan (next year def an SUV!).

Much fun was had eating delicious food, talking smack, and sharing tales of derring-do and Items Removed from Rectums (you had to have been there.)

Quote of the week for me: "My husband will eat my biscuit," which sent even the waitress into spasms of hilarity.

Now I'm back to the grind of school, but already looking forward to next year...

Friday, October 03, 2014

I fucking LOVE living in the future!

I spent 7 hours in the OR today, watching a robot do surgery. So. Cool.

One thing about Ginormous City Hospital (GCH): everyone, and I mean EVERYONE is nice. The head surgeon took off his glove when introduced to me just to shake my hand. He then proceeded to tell me how important the whole team is in the OR, that he couldn't do his job without every single person in there. Very impressive, with none of the arrogance one is led by TV and movies to expect.

I had a truly great experience, but it again reinforced my opinion of OR nursing: incredibly boring and definitely not up my alley at all, as interesting and enjoyable watching the procedure was.

I do hope I get hired at GCH. I have loved that hospital from the first moment I stepped through the doors.