Saturday, June 24, 2017

This and That

So, it's been awhile.

I quit my per diem job at the primary care clinic. My boss refused to accept my resignation, and still texts me, asking if I can do a few hours here or there.

Uh, no.

While I loved my co-workers there, I HATED the job. It was hours of tedium interspersed with moments of utter terror. Telephone triage is not for wimps! I never really felt that I got the hang of it, triage protocol book at hand or not.

Plus all the emails from the patients to the doctors, which had to go through the nurses first. Ugh.

People are fucking stupid. I've known this for quite some time, but read a few hundred patient emails and you'll feel it at a visceral level. I'm frequently amazed that humanity has survived as long as it has.

ANYWAY. Enough about that. My faith in humanity is frequently restored by my amazing inpatients.

I ran into the sister of one of my former (and likely future) patients when Thing 1 and I were shopping at a local Big Box store. I heard, "CHRISTINA!!!" and turned around to be tackle-hugged by a familiar lady. She squeezed me so hard and asked, "Do you know what a difference you made during my sister's last admission? We're so grateful to you!"

Well, I'm not ashamed to admit I got a bit teary-eyed (or maybe more than a bit...)
Enough so that Thing 1 muttered sotto voce, "Mom, get it together!"

Heh.

I'm allowed these moments, dammit!

The most amazing thing about this is that the sister happens to be a very experienced nurse, so praise coming from her...well!

In other news, I have some advice:

It behooves one to perhaps not make comments, even sarcastically or due to frustration, that imply that if one's aged, chronically ill mother had only fallen and BROKEN HER HIP, maybe her insurance company would have coughed up the cash for a bed in a rehab or skilled nursing facility by now...
Yeah, that gets you a visit from Adult Protective Services right quick!

This morning, right before shift change, I was holding a graduated cylinder for my patient to empty her colostomy into, when she, well, missed. Just a little bit. The contents splashed onto my hand and the floor.

"Oh, SHIT!" my patient whisper-shouted.

"LITERALLY!" I replied.

I made her laugh!

And this, children, is why we wear gloves.


Wednesday, April 19, 2017

People are fucking disgusting...

(here was an AMAZING rant about a situation at work, but I found it impossible not to add in enough details that someone could potentially identify the patient, so I deleted it.)



Fucking motherfuckers. Pieces of shit.  (this was the end of the post).

Anyway, sorry about how click-bait-y this seems.

I've been really busy trying to finish my chemo certification. I mean, I took the class, passed the exam, and have my chemo card, but I have to get "signed off" on all different types of chemo (three times each, no less), in order to be officially certified and stuff.

Seeing as I work exclusively night shift, it has been understandably difficult. Therefore I've been sacrificing quite a few days off to go in during the day to do some chemo.

Fun times.

We're also currently seriously short-staffed on my unit, so I've been working a lot of overtime shifts. Tired. That's what I am!

For some reason, social media just isn't floating my boat recently, I have no idea why.

And I have the advent of my (dear God, PLEASE) soon-to-be-a-college-graduate daughter to look forward to, as she will be moving back home until she finds a job that nets enough that she can support herself.

Three grown women in a tiny, two-bedroom apartment...what could possibly go wrong?

Wait, don't answer that. I've already gamed out every scenario in my head!

Anyway, life's busy, there's never enough time in a day to do everything that needs to be done, etc., etc.

Basically just like every other sap out there on the planet!

Well, if you're still out there, reading my wittle blog, thanks! I'll try to make more of an effort to post more frequently than every few months (oy!).

See you on the flip side.

Monday, January 30, 2017

Generally, yes.

I had a confused patient in his 90s as part of my assignment the other night. When I had a bit of downtime, I sat with him to reorient him and keep him from pulling out his IV (AGAIN!).

We were chit-chatting about nothing in particular when he suddenly reached over and began stroking my wrist while staring at me intently and murmuring, "Do you like affection...?"

As I jerked back in surprise and sputtered a response about inappropriate behavior and professionalism, what was running through my mind was,

"NOT FROM YOU, MOTHERFUCKER!"

I called over our young, MALE nursing assistant to take over sitting and wasted no time sharing the story over a laugh with my colleagues.

A few minutes later, while checking my phone, I saw I had received a text message from one of my fellow nurses. I thought it was odd, because she was standing right there! Why would she be sending me a text when she could talk to me...?

Then I saw what she had texted...and busted out laughing.

Well played, Meg. Well played.