Flasher Nurse

It was an accident. I swear. I didn't mean to flash the young male patient and his friends.

I was wearing a modest top that snapped up the front. As I walked into the room, my pocket got caught on the door handle. There was a rapid snap, snap, snap sound. I looked down and my top was completely unsnapped and wide open. I was standing there in my bra in front of a bunch of young guys. I did what anyone would do. I gasped, turned around and ran out of the room.

Snapping myself back up, I walked back into the room pretending that nothing had happened. They did the same. I did hear them laughing after I left the room, but that's okay. I was laughing even harder.

Motorcycles, Guns and Vomit

We have two new patients who both crashed their motorcycles while driving drunk. In one accident, the patient's wife died. What they did was stupid, but I still feel for them, especially for the man who is wearing a wedding ring, but now has no wife. I don't know how a person recovers from that.

We have another patient who accidently shot himself in the leg with a high-powered rifle. His explanation didn't make much sense, but I guess it doesn't really matter how it happened. Our job is just to patch him back together again.

Tonight's star patient vomited. Nothing unusual about that. I can understand how it got all down the front of her , the bed, the bed rails and the floor. But there also was a pile of vomit sitting on top of her head like a smelly cap. Even her ears were filled with vomit.

She was sitting up in bed at the time. How did she manage to spew puke over the top of her head? Gotta give her credit for creativity, though.

We tried to pick the chunks out of her hair, but vomit really sticks to hair strands. After washing her and changing all of the linens she still smelled like partially digested roast beef, rice, diced carrots, milk, bread and watermelon with plenty of stomach acid mixed in. But that's okay. Her roommate also couldn't stop vomiting. (Hope you're not eating, Gemmak.)

Slow Down, Mommy

Thanks, Sarah. (Poor little guy.)

Blood, Slobber, Urine, Vomit and More Blood

My favorite patient tonight was admitted with anemia. That doesn't sound very exciting, but there's more to the story. He came to the ER because of a head wound. He had been struck on the head because he had been caught in bed with another man's girlfriend, even though, as he said, We wasn't doin nuthin."

When he came to the ER his blood alcohol level was almost four times the legal limit. The heavy drinking had led to a platelet disorder so he was now a "bleeder"and severely anemic. Even his gums were bleeding, and with his tendency to drool, bloody slobber sometimes ran down his chin.

Of course it was on my shift that the DT's started. He was shaking so violently that I had to place pills in his mouth and hold his water cup to his lips. At the same time, bloody drool was running down his chin.

He looked to be in his sixties, but he was actually a few years younger than I am. Oh, and did I mention that he was also incontinent?"

We debated putting his roommate in another room so that he wouldn't have to endure that strong, old urine smell in the room. Despite our efforts to clean him and the linens, he still reeked. But then the roommate vomited and the room smelled of acidic vomit, so we decided to keep those two patients together. We try to separate clean patients from dirty patients.

There was also some excitement when a patient was found on the floor lying in a pool of blood. She had knee replacement surgery earlier in the day and she decided that it would be a good idea to go for a walk. In the process, her drain came out causing blood to pour over the floor. The anesthesia caused her to lose her mind, hopefully only temporarily. When a patient is almost one hundred years old, as she was, those things happen. She's tied up now and appears to be okay.

Top 10 Reasons Why I Want Star Trek Beds In My Unit

10. The patient never has to be helped into or out of bed, nor even undressed.

9. The patient doesn't need any IV lines, tubes or monitor cables.

8. The patient doesn't need to be pulled up in bed, turned or even have a siderail.

7. The patient never needs to be fed and never needs to be bathed.

6. The patient never has an excessive number of visitors.

5. The patient never urinates, defecates, vomits, or expectorates.

4. The patient will get up at the end of 46 minutes, unless killed of in the first 5 minutes of the show to entice you into watching the remainder of the program. He will not need a wheelchair for discharge.

3. The patient rarely needs translator services arranged.

2. The patient never contradicts or denies to the doctor what I just reported the patient had said or done.

1. The patient does not have a call bell, does not call out "NURSE!!!" or demand that his unreasonable request be done because he was a physician in his old country.

by Tom Trimble, RN (with modifications)

Driving Impaired

I was driving in rush hour traffic, so I had time to study the drivers around me. Behind me was a woman who was holding her cell phone to her ear with one hand and drinking coffee with the other hand. How she was steering is a mystery.

At one point, I noticed that she came to a complete stop. The distance between us continued to grow. Did she break down?

She was almost out of sight when suddenly she made a lane change. She had stopped to wait for a break in traffic to change lanes, causing the cars behind her to pile up. Not that I approve, but sometimes I can understand freeway shootings.

Plan B: Imperfection

My parents were due at my house today at one pm and I had done nothing yesterday to prepare. It was so busy, I ran out of time and energy, so my plan was to get up early today and shop, cook and clean.

What happened is, I woke up at 1130. That led to plan B. I sort of cleaned and got food from a restaurant. That worked too.

There was a time when I would have set my alarm and just about killed myself trying to make sure that every thing was perfect. Now, I've decided that "good enough" is just fine. I still battle the desire to want to be perfect, but when I'm able to relax my standards, I'm much happier. Striving for perfection just leads to unhappiness and disappointment because nothing can ever be perfect.

Party Animal

This is so totally not like me, but I just came back from my second party today. Another one of my friends turned fifty and he threw a large party to mourn celebrate. My first party of the day was a retirement party.

I am not a party animal. My idea of the perfect day is to stay home. I am just so exhausted from smiling and mingling, that I wish I could spend the next two days at home alone to recover. But I can't. My parents are coming over tomorrow for dinner and my house is filthy and I have no food.

The birthday party was a great party, if you like parties. It was in a nice Chinese restaurant and there were eight entrees plus dim sum and cake with lots of booze. The food was incredible, but on the way out I felt so guilty when I noticed that the previously full lobster tank was empty. We ate them all. It's horrible to see a creature alive before you eat it. I need to pretend that meat comes from Styrofoam containers in supermarkets.

The party was unusual in that the birthday boy invited his ex-wife and her family and three of his ex-girlfriends. Everyone came and got along fine. I guess that says something about a person's character when after a relationship ends that people still want to be friends.

Don't Laugh

Today was the retirement party for one of my coworkers. It was held at The Castaway in the hills above Burbank. The view is of the San Fernando Valley. Some of my coworkers are pictured here. There were over 80 people at the party and only three were not Filipino. I didn't feel out of place, though. I've always been welcomed and included.

There was music, ballroom dancing and of course food. No pancit was served.

At one point I visited the ladies room and almost got in trouble. When I wanted to return to the party, I got turned around and walked through an open door. Inside, there was a wall lined with urinals. Thank God there was no one in there. With the door open you can't read that it was the men's room.

There were some speeches and one person didn't quite get the name of our hospital right. Because we are in Panorama City, we say that we work at PC. The speaker pronounced it feces. No one laughed and I was just about dying, trying to keep a straight face.

There were also some singers. One singer did quite well at first singing a Celine Dion song. But the song quickly exceeded her vocal capacities. What she lacked in skill, she made up for in volume. At one point an employee rushed to the door to close it. I was managing okay until then and nearly broke out in hysterical laughter. Regaining self-control just in time for another singer, I nearly lost it again. It was the same problem again. Had she chosen a less ambitious song, she would have done fine, but the song again was an octave higher than she could manage. I don't know why bad singing gives me giggling fits, but I've had that problem since I was a kid. Just knowing that laughing would be the worst thing that I could do is enough to make me laugh. Thank God I managed not to.

Pancit Party

One of our secretaries is retiring and she had a Filipino dinner catered for the hospital staff. We had pancit (of course) which is a greasy rice noodle, pork, seafood and quail egg dish. There were some other dishes that I don't know the name of, such as a barbecued chicken, beef, rice and noodle dish and some beef in garlic sauce served on rice. The food was good although I'm getting a little tired of pancit. (We get it all of the time.)

She also had fresh lichees, tamarinds and tropical fruit. I'm absolutely crazy about tamarinds and am amazed that I used to be afraid of them. (They look too much like hairy rat droppings when shelled.)

Tomorrow we're going to another party to celebrate her retirement. I don't mean to whine, but I hope that we're not getting pancit again. I don't get the pancit obsession. Am I the only one who is tired of it?

The Long Way Home

What is it with men and their GPS? Last night a friend and I were driving back from downtown LA when the freeway slowed down a bit. So what did he do? He took off down an offramp depositing us in a cruddy part of town. Soon, we were driving down little side streets past barred windows, graffiti and freaky looking people.

Using his GPS to navigate, he was looking at it instead of the road. I felt like screaming get the .... back on the freeway but I said nothing and just gritted my teeth. It took a half hour longer than usual to get home, plus I got the bonus of frayed nerves. Worst of all, I think that he got off of the freeway just so that he could play with his toy. (Note to guys: If you have an exhausted female companion in the car with you who is eager to get home, that is not a good time to play with your GPS.)

Dogs and Screens

My screen just keeps getting lovelier and lovelier. First Murph, pictured here, scratched some holes in it. Then, last night, Kelsey came running through the screen at full speed. There is now a nice dog sized hole. *sigh*

Going to a Play Over the Hill

I live on the outskirts of LA and truly dislike going downtown. I sometimes joke that I will only go "over the hill" if required by a summons. I didn't receive a summons, but an invitation from a friend to go see a play at the Music Center. I accepted. The picture above is of the Taj Mahoney. It is a cathedral that has been unofficially named after Cardinal Mahoney who was responsible for it being built. I wish that I could tell you the real name of the cathedral, but I don't know it and I didn't see any signs saying what it is named. I don't think that it's much to look at from the outside. Perhaps the interior is nice. It is not really slanted like that, I took the picture in a hurry when driving by.
This is the Disney Center and again, I don't know the proper name of it. It really is slanted like that, unlike the cathedral.
These fountains I really liked. At night they're lit up with soft pink lights which creates a magical mood.

This fountain is in the Music Center. We sat here for about a half an hour and watched and listened to the water. I enjoyed that part as much as the play. The play, Radio Golf, wasn't bad, but I was tired after a long day. I had gotten up early, been in class all day and wasn't really in the mood to sit through two and three quarter hours of dialogue. I really could have used some singing and dancing to keep my attention and more room to stretch my legs.

My camera needed to be hidden before going inside. They confiscate cameras and sometimes search purses, so my friend hid my camera in his pants in a spot that no one would likely pat down. Rather than take away cameras, I think that they should take away cell phones. I counted five phone calls during the performance.

Sex Behind the Curtain

A visitor came running into another patient's room to get the nurse. "Emergency," she exclaimed. The nurse, thinking that a bedpan was needed, grabbed one and ran into the room.

The visitor hissed,"They're having sex, make them stop." Behind the curtain, the roommate's bed could be heard making a bouncing sound. The nurse peeked around the curtain and the visitor was right. They were definitely having sex.

The nurse really didn't want to interrupt them, so she stalled for time to allow them to finish. She took the visitor out of the room to discuss the situation, having assessed that "the man was about to ejaculate," as she later told me. Quickly, the emergency was over.

Later after the boyfriend left, the nurse smiled and playfully said, "No more making babies here." The patient laughed and there were no more emergencies.

You Can't Get There From Here

This is an elevator at work. Apparently, it only goes down and to the left. (I've had some nightmares like that.)

The Great Escape

It's around 11:30 at night and it's time to flee work. This is my escape route.
This is the ride down in the elevator. It looks like I'm in a mine shaft. That's also how it feels. Not just the elevator, but being at work.
This corridor used to be across the front of the hospital, with the parking lot just outside the doors to the right. Now, the parking lot is gone and it's a massive construction site. The doors are bolted shut.
This is the main lobby where people check in for urgent care. The outpatient pharmacy is to the right. There are lots of chairs so that people can be comfortable as they wait forever for their prescriptions.
This the next corridor I come to. There are two security cameras here.
This is the last corridor. It also has two security cameras.
I'm free. The parking structure is the building to the left. The construction site is on the other side of the wall. Home is 22 miles and twenty minutes away.

Sending in an Apple to do Chocolate's Job

This should have been my day off, but my schedule got changed, so I worked and arrived feeling cranky. It just went downhill from there.

Checking on one patient, I saw that dayshift had done nothing to get the patient set up after arriving from surgery near the end of their shift. With the patient looking blue and lethargic, I began frantically searching for equipment to access the oxygen in the wall. While searching for equipment, two of my other patients decided to vomit at the same time. Another patient was on his call light. I couldn't respond right away, so when I finally got to him, he was mad at me. At the same time an IV pump was alarming because dayshift misprogrammed it, causing it to run dry. I could go on and on, but I think that you get the idea. Things were bad and getting worse every minute. It was all I could to maintain a professional demeanor.

Later, over the intercom, it was announced that free apples and water were being given away. Hoping that would help my mood, I went to go get my treat. On the way, I happened to catch my reflection, and if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot. Flames were practically shooting from my eyes.

Instead of the apple and water, I took a chocolate and tea break. After the proper amount of sugar, fat and caffeine, I felt much better and was able to look at myself in a mirror without scaring myself, at least not too much.

On a final note, last night's patient who was yelling David all night was still doing it today, only he's really pissed now because David won't answer. At dinner time, he refused to eat a tray unless one of us took a bite of everything on his plate first. Fearing that we were trying to poison him, he wanted one of us to act as a food taster. There being no volunteers, he went hungry tonight. We're as afraid of the food as he is, perhaps more.

Drooping Rose at Work

I know just how it feels.

Where Would he put a Belly Button Ring?

Overheard conversation between a nurse and her patient:

"Where's your belly button?," asked the nurse.

The patient replied, "I don't have one."

"What happened to it?"

"I don't know. I just don't have one."

(Sorry. I wish that I could have gotten a picture.)

David's Not Here

A coworker needed help changing the sheets under a patient. As I entered the room, she told me, "You're his daughter. You're name is Ronnie." I knew what she was trying to do. The patient had already been yelling for hours for David, his son, and she was was hoping to fool him into thinking that his daughter was there instead. He was crazy, but he was not stupid. He looked at my coworker like she was crazy for saying that I was his daughter. And, he continued to yell for what seemed like forever. This is an excerpt of what everyone had to listen to: "David! I'm upstairs. Come up here and get me out of here. Help! David! I'm upstairs, please. What are you doing? Come up here. David!" I was really starting to wish that we could give him some pillow therapy.

In the ER there was a patient with the complaint that she was "stressed out from work." That was it. It never would have occurred to me to go to the hospital for that, I leave the hospital to escape from being stressed out from work.

Not a Shrinking Violet

Orchids in bloom, live in my kitchen where they can be admired. Orchids out of bloom are moved to the loft, where most go to die. If they survive and bloom again, then they can come back to the kitchen. The orchid in the photo had been in my kitchen for a few months. A couple of weeks ago, the last flower fell off and it was moved upstairs. Today, I found three new flower stocks, so it's orchid moving day again. Some plants will do anything for attention.

Chocolate, Fish and a Flirt

It's not a good idea for a nurse to eat chocolate while driving to work, especially when wearing lavender. Chocolate is not what most people think of when they see brown stains on a nurse's uniform. And, of course, I managed to get several chocolate spots on my clothes.

One of the nurses made a fish run to the market across the street. (I'm saving the topic of fish runs for a future blog.) On the way out she asked if we would like anything. Yes, we did and it did not involve fish. We wanted chocolate bars. The fish market selection was limited, so we all ended up with Mars bars, which was fine. The only problem was, they didn't quite taste right. I don't know if they were old or if the fish odors made their way over to the candy bar section, but something just wasn't quite right. Perhaps it's not a god idea to buy chocolate from an Asian fish market.

Lastly, one of my patients tonight was actually alert and oriented, not to mention single and about my age. He was also quite flirtatious. When his ex-wife came to visit, I figured that he would cool off, but nothing changed. While she sat on the bed and massaged his feet, he held my wrist and admired my pink watch. I told our secretary about this and she glared over her glasses and said, "He's a pig. If he would treat his ex-wife with such disrespect, why do you think that he would treat you any different?" I can't argue with her logic. Darn.

Panties on the Lawn

Whenever I'm missing things like socks, underwear or pillows, I know exactly where to look. They will be on the lawn. It's one of Murphy's quirks that he takes stuff outside and leaves it.

Once, when he was a puppy, all of my shoes were missing from the closet. I found them on the lawn, all 30 or so pairs. It must have taken him forever to keep going up and down the stairs and taking each shoe, one by one, outside.

The worst thing that he did happened on gardener day. I found a pile of my panties on the patio table. Murphy didn't leave the panties on the table, the gardeners did. They must have found them on the lawn, picked them up and left them on the table for me. I could have died.

Today is just a typical day, there were 5 pillows and one sock on the lawn this morning. Because of this, I'm careful how I decorate. I only buy pillows in dirt colors.

Dinner for Breakfast

On days that I work, my meal schedule gets all turned around. I'll have tea and fruit when I wake up around 10 or 11 and then before I know it, it's time for dinner. Even though I eat around noon time, I call it dinner because it's the biggest meal of the day. It has to be big because at best, I won't get to eat again until 8 or 9 at night. If I'm unlucky, my next meal will be after midnight.

A big salad is just about the last thing that I feel like eating for breakfast, but it's either eat it then or not at all. It's too hard to pack to take to work and there simply isn't enough time to eat it there, anyway. I call my evening meal lunch and it consists of a sandwich and fruit.

My last of the meal before I go to bed is chocolate. I need something to look forward to.

Code Running

I was sitting at the nurse's station eating Fig Newtons when a code blue was called in ICU. Because it wasn't my unit, I kept eating the cookies. (That is the correct protocol, not the eating cookies part, but the staying put part.) The house supervisor ran past me on the way to the code, which amused me because of a conversation that I had earlier that night. A coworker told me a story of another house supervisor who was present when a code was called on the floor. She took off running for the bathroom and locked the door. Not until the code was over did she emerge from the bathroom. Now, it's possible that she suddenly, really had to go to the bathroom and need to stay there for 45 minutes, but what are the odds? At least the current supervisor ran in the correct direction.

Dinner and Games

Work started with a major crisis. This is the night that we order food to celebrate Saturday and Debbie wasn't there. Debbie always takes care of that for us. What were we going to do? No one brought any food from home and we would rather die than eat hospital food.

Susan saved the day by finding the stack of take-out menus, called in our orders and collected the money. Whew! That was a close one. (I got the sopes. I don't know if that is spelled properly, but it was yummy.)

To help alleviate the boredom of another slow night, we played a fun after dinner game called "Has anyone seen my keys?." The way the game works is we wait until a nurse lays down his or her narcotic keys and walks away. The key finder takes the keys and waits. Eventually someone will start yelling, "Has anyone seen my keys?" The proper answer is, "You better find them, no one can go home until you find the narc keys." After the proper amount of searching and anxiety, someone says, "I have your keys" and then states where they were found. Everyone has a good laugh and then we wait to play another round.

Shower Mix-Up

Pantene is one of my favorite hair conditioners, but lately it has made my hair feel like straw. And, combing the tangles out of my wet hair has been a nightmare. I just figured out what happened.

I need reading glasses to read, but in the shower, it's just not convenient to wear glasses. The brand names on the bottles are nice and big, so I can tell what brand I'm using, but I can't read the print that says whether the product is shampoo or conditioner. I've organized the bottles so that shampoo is on the left and conditioner is on the right. But, some time back, I must have made a mistake and put the shampoo in the conditioner section.

Today in the shower, one of my contacts slipped out of place, allowing me to read what the product was. (I can read just fine without my contacts.) The mystery was solved. It would be nice if manufacturers put what the product is in as big of print as the product name. Or, someone needs to invent shower glasses.

More Male Bashing

Thanks, Sarah.

Tharah and Melitha Go Thopping

Tharah thowed up at my houthe today mithing a front tooth and lithping. Sorry, I couldn't resist. The crown, or whatever it was that was attached to the nubbin of remaining tooth, came off when she was brushing her teeth this morning. Of course we're not going to let that spoil our day, so we went out with Sarah looking like she had been a bar fight or been raised by trailer trash. (Sarah's tooth was broken when she was 14 and went through the windshield of a car.)

Besides a nice lunch at the Elephant Bar, (Sarah had Chinese chicken salad and I had chicken lettuce wraps) we went to one of our favorite stores, BombayKIDS. I would buy out the entire girl half of the store, except for one minor detail. ALL of their stuff only comes in twin sizes. That's simply not right. I would like frilly, silly, beaded, ruffled, feathered stuff in my bedroom, too. Why should only little girls have fairy princess bedrooms?

After shopping and lunch, it was time to play with the dogs. In this shot, I'm wearing poor little Tom Tom like a shawl, while the other dogs look on. It's not easy being the littlest dog.

There are no pictures of Sarah due to her missing tooth, so it's just me and the dogs.

We finished the day with figs and Amber Weizen ale. Tomorrow, it's back to work for me. *sigh*

Crotch Bite and a Bad Night

Sweet, gentle Kelsey bit me on the upper, inner thigh because I had the gall to take the trash cans out to the curb. Usually he just bites the trash can wheels, but this time my leg got in the way.

The wound extends up into the area where the elastic from my panties crosses, so it hurts to wear panties and pants. I considered wearing a skirt without panties to work, but ruled it out only because I don't own a nursing skirt. :)

Every dressing I've tried pulls when I walk, but it hurts even more to have my clothes rub against the wound. So, I was miserable tonight.

At work, a staffing error was made, resulting in two of us having eleven patients, three of whom required almost one-to-one care. After about an hour of complaining, blaming, pleading and tears, we were given a couple of extra nurses.

As for the coffee grounds on the floor, counter and walls of our work kitchen, the cause is a mystery. I just know that I didn't do it. Now that the coffee filter holder has been on the floor, I don't think that I will ever drink work coffee again.

The only patient of note tonight, I never actually saw. He came into ER complaining of numb eyeballs. I'll say it for everyone, HUH?

Please Don't Hate us Because We're Evil

Awhile back, I mentioned a patient who had made our lives a living hell for two and a half months and how intoxicated with joy we were when we got him transferred to another unit. Well, now were afraid. The patient went bad and ended up in ICU. He's better now and is yelling up a storm, so it's just a matter of time before he gets transferred back to a regular medical floor.

That's why we're so afraid, we might get him back. So, we strategically moved our patients around. The patient from hell can only go in a private room, so we filled our private rooms and made up some excuses to explain why we did this. The other units, not thinking ahead, still have empty private rooms available.

There are no guarantees, but we should be okay as long as no one messes up and forgets to quickly fill up a private room if there is a discharge.

This is our way of implementing the new slogan "Be your own cause." (Yes, I know. We're evil.)

A Bloody Penis and an Argument

With eleven patients and five nurses, it was a challenge to keep ourselves entertained tonight. I checked the computer to see if anything was going on in ER, but there was nothing terribly exciting there either, except for a man who came in with a bloody penis. I don't know what happened to him. It did remind me of the patient I once had who developed an infection on his penis. It required multiple surgeries to scrape away the infected tissue. By the time that I took care of him, most of the head was gone. It was just a shaft with a little scrap of tissue from the head left. He was such a young guy. I never found out what happened to cause that.

On a totally unrelated note, there was an amusing (to me) argument. One of our nurses has one of those voices that carry. She can be heard in every square inch of our unit. So, she was talking with a patient and apparently, one of the visitors had heard enough. The visitor marched into the patient's room and said to the nurse, "You be quiet." And then pointing to the patient, she added, "and you too." The nurse yelled back, "This isn't your room. Get out." End of discussion.

Green Rubber Bracelets

It wasn't a special occasion, yet we were all given presents at work yesterday, green rubber bracelets. I shouldn't make fun. They didn't have to give us anything at all, but still, a green, rubber bracelet? What happened to gold and sparkling jewels? Is rubber all that we're worth? (No, don't answer that.)

It is a nice slogan, though, "Be your own cause." But, couldn't the bracelets say that in pink just as nicely?

Was it Death by Morphine?

Over the weekend, our hospice patient slipped into a coma and quietly passed away, surrounded by family. When that happens and the patient is on a morphine drip, I always wonder what killed them. Was it the illness or the morphine? Her dose was 65 times the usual rate.

Of course we're not trying to hasten anyone's death and we don't give any more morphine than is necessary to ease a person's pain, but still, I wonder if we killed her. Although our efforts are legal and only done with the best of intentions, I wonder if she would still be alive without the morphine. (But if I'm the one who is terminally ill, please turn the morphine up all of the way and don't worry about it.)

Sending Out For Parts

Surgery for a patient has been delayed a few days because we had to send out for parts, just like an auto body shop. (We don't stock hardware in your size. We'll let you know when your order comes in.) At least this time they realized before surgery that they didn't have the right size hardware. Sometimes it's not until the patient is opened up that they discover the hardware won't fit. Then the patient has to be closed, parts are ordered and then a few days later, surgery is resumed. So, in the meantime, we're just waiting for the UPS guy.

Mail Gone Missing

An email arrived from a friend and I tried to save it on my PC and discovered that the folder was gone. Actually, all of my friends' email folders were gone. I am so upset over losing all of my correspondence and I can't imagine what happened. I haven't been doing anything weird with my computer. I haven't erased, moved or even searched any of my files lately. The only possibility I can think of is that I recently allowed AOL to do a routine update. Is it possible that the update erased my files? For now on, I'm going to print important letters on paper and save them the old fashioned way. Excuse me while I go cry now.

Cute Animals

Thank you, Sarah.

Carpet Dirt Spreader

Because I was at work early today, I got to see the carpet being shampooed. In a previous post, I mentioned the various body fluids that drop from patient's bodies onto the carpet. Naturally, I was curious to see how they cleaned it.

I asked the janitor if the machine suctioned up the dirt. He said no, the machine just spreads the dirt around. I asked if they use any special cleaning agents to kill germs. Again, he said no, they just use water. It helps to spread the dirt around more evenly so that the dirt stains are less obvious.

Now I'm wondering, if I drop my pen, should I pick it up or just leave it?

Thunder Storm

Around 3 am, Murphy began crying and whining. Off in the distance, thunder was rumbling. Soon, Murph was in bed, lying on top of me, dripping fishy pond water shaking like a giant vibrator. Although Murph is bigger than I am, he is the most cautious and fearful of my dogs.

As the storm came closer, blinding flashes of light filled the room, followed by continually louder booms. My efforts to comfort Murph had no effect. I just had to lie there under the crushing weight of a smelly, wet, whimpering, shaking dog.

The storm eventually passed, Murph recovered and jumped off the bed. I slept the rest of the night in wet, dirty sheets. Then came the worst part, I had to get up at 6 am for another stupid work committee. When will I learn to say no? (Not to Murph, but to committees.)

A Blonde Moment

The phone rang. I reached to pick it up and nearly said, "eightwestmelissa," but then remembered that I was home, not at work. The problem was that I could not remember how to answer the phone. The word "hello" escaped me. Frozen, I stared at the ringing phone wondering what to do. Inspiration struck and I said "hi." The caller also said,"hi." End of crisis.

World's Shortest Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl, "Will you marry me?"

The girl said, "No."

And the guy lived happily ever after and went golfing.

Upside Down Kisses

Hanging upside down by my ankles feels good. It stretches my spine and allows me to exercise without putting pressure on my sorry joints. The only problem is that my dogs, being the opportunists that they are, see it as the perfect time to kiss my face. Sometimes all three of them will be licking me ferociously at the same time. (Not that I mind.)

Has it Been a Month Already?

Today is the one month anniversary of my blog. This is also my 92nd post. I still worry that I will run out of material, but so far I'm doing okay. I just hope that I can keep it up and not start boring people with my crazy patient stories, of which there will never be a shortage.

Introducing Daisy

My friend, the beautiful Sarah, is in love. Daisy, the world's luckiest Golden Retriever, has been adopted by Sarah. Daisy came from a shelter and how she ended up there, I'll never understand. She is sweet, well-mannered, loves people and other dogs, is house-broken and totally gorgeous.

Daisy probably can't believe that she's allowed on furniture and beds, gets fed baked chicken every night and is totally adored.

(Sarah and her four dogs, Heidi, Jesse, Dar (Darth Vadar) and Daisy came to visit today. Four of our combined seven dogs went in the pond, but I was only able to get a picture of three dogs in the pond and I was lucky to get that. )

Nurse Melissa's Home Remedies

1. If you are choking on an ice cube, don't panic. Simply pour a cup of boiling water down your throat and presto, the blockage will be almost instantly removed.

2. Clumsy? Avoid cutting yourself while slicing vegetables by getting someone else to hold them while you chop away.

3. Want to avoid arguments with the little woman about lifting the toilet seat? Just use the sink.

4. For high blood pressure sufferers: simply cut yourself and bleed for a few minutes, thus reducing the pressure in your veins. Remember to use a timer.

5. A mouse trap on top of your alarm clock will prevent you from rolling over and going back to sleep after you hit the snooze button.

6. If you have a bad cough take a large dose of laxatives; that should quiet your cough down considerably.

7. Have a bad toothache? Smash your thumb with a hammer and you will forget about the toothache.

And remember:

You only need to two tools: WD-40 and Duct tape.

If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40.

If it does move and shouldn't, use the duct tape.

Everyone seems normal until you get to know them

Never pass up an opportunity to go to the bathroom.

If you woke up breathing, congratulations. You get another chance.

And finally, be really nice to your family and friends; you never know when you might need them to empty your bedpan.

(Thank you, Dave, for sending this to me.)

Unusual Cranberries

Since when do cranberries grow on shrub covered hills? Who do they think they're kidding? Is the juice company ashamed or embarrassed that cranberries grow in bogs? Is there something wrong with bogs?

Does Jesus Really Need a Flu Shot?

Am I crazy or is that Jesus on an official work manual? (I do not work for any kind of religious affiliated hospital.) Inside are the national safety goals for maintaining our accreditation. Among other things, the illustration shows Jesus about to get a flu shot and the arrow pointing to his hip means that we are supposed to check Jesus' buttocks for pressure ulcers.

This was not a management blunder, but the doings of a staff nurse who helped assemble the manual. Not one to leave things alone, I started showing it to everyone I could find. Unfortunately, I showed it to an administrator who grabbed it away from me, ending my fun. Thank you, Jesus, I at least got a picture first.

ER Chief Complaints

When people come to the ER, a clerk enters the patient's chief complaint into the computer. Lacking a medical background, the clerk's choice of words can be rather amusing. When we're bored, we like to see what it's in the ER and what the clerk decided to call it. These are some of last night's chief complaints. Doing some research, I found what was missing and put it in parentheses.

Swelling on..........(lips)

Feels as if.........(throat is closing)

Unable to ca...........(re for self)

Did not take...........(meds)

Funny feelin...........(gs in throat)

Partying Around Death

Work had a cocktail party atmosphere this evening with staff laughing and talking while snacking on Filipino mango cake and coffee. Disgusting photos were passed around for entertainment. The favorite was of an excoriated anal area that resembled a pink flower. (I would have published a picture, but even I have limits.)

While we were having so much fun, one of the patients was dying. Nothing could be done except to try and keep her comfortable. Her morphine drip was high enough to kill ten people, but it just made her barely comfortable.

Tearful family members visit and can hear us laughing. Perhaps we should adopt a more serious demeanor, but this has been going on for days and will probably continue for several more. That's too long to pretend to be somber.

I hope that they understand our behavior is not meant to be callous. Our jokes relieve tension and make an otherwise bad situation tolerable. But when I laugh, I feel guilty.

New Shoes Christened

It didn't take long. On my second day of wearing my new lavender shoes, I dropped some urine on my shoe. Now, they feel like real work shoes.

Tonight's patient of note refused to wear his oxygen mask because his room had "bad vibes" and he was sure that we were trying to kill him by pumping poisonous gas through the oxygen pipes in the wall. He said that if we moved him to another room, he would use the oxygen.

I have little patience for such nonsense, but we had to move him because the doctor told us to. Without oxygen, he was going to need to be intubated soon and the doctor wanted us to try this first. So he was moved and he liked the "vibes" of the new room and so started using the oxygen. He's fine now. I guess it never occurred to him that if we could pump poisonous gas into one room that we could do it to all of the rooms. (I could never be a psyche nurse.)

Wet Dog

This is Murphy in the koi pond. He never entirely dries off. Just about the time his fur stops dripping, he's back in the water. Yes, he also has full run of the house.

I keep the water murky to protect the fish from predators. (That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.) When the water is clear, fish disappear. Fish don't seem to mind the green, cloudy water and the Murph certainly doesn't care. In fact, I think that he likes dirty water better. I've bought play pools for him in the past, but he much prefers the pond.

Fast Learner

The family of a patient emphasized tonight that she only spoke Spanish and didn't know a single word of English. After the family left, the nurse noticed that the patient was lying under a pile of blankets. Concerned that she might be too hot, she asked the patient, in English, if she would like some of those blankets removed. In perfect English, the patient answered, "No, that's okay."

The Board of Shame

A new absentee policy was approved today. For now on, if a person calls in sick, their name will be placed on a poster that says they called in sick today and it will be hung in the bathroom. There has been some grumbling (and hysterical laughter) over this new policy. This puzzles me because I think that it is a great rule except that it doesn't go far enough.

These are my ideas. On the bulletin board should be a bold title saying, "The Board of Shame." And, instead of being in the bathroom, it should be posted in the main lobby where everyone will be sure to see it. Because this a large facility and we don't know everyone's name, there should also be 8 by 10 glossies of offenders, along with their names. The humiliation shouldn't stop there. When the sick employees return to work, they should be required to stand in the corner during breaks, wear a dunce cap and write 1000 times, "I will not call in sick again." A public flogging should be reserved for repeat offenders.

Flying Hair

I went to Costco yesterday and bought some frozen yogurt. The man who took my order was wearing two hair nets, one over his hair and the other across his face. Only his eyes and nose were exposed. At first, I thought he might have a cold. But with his nose exposed, that didn't make sense. Then, I noticed that he had a full beard. Someone, apparently, was worried about beard hair getting in the food.

I find this amusing because most nurses wear their hair long and loose. We're often working over open wounds or doing invasive procedures with our hair flying around. No one seems to be bothered by that, but then, when the cafeteria workers deliver food to the patients, they're all wearing hair nets. Apparently it's okay to get hair in a wound, but not in someone's food.

August Flowers

This is what's in my garden now, among other things.

New Work Shoes

Our dress code at work requires that we wear either white or black shoes. I bought some new work shoes today, they're lavender.

Mail Injuries

My dog Kelsey turns into a raving lunatic whenever I go outside to get the mail. Pictured are my injuries in various stages of healing. I try to sneak out when he's not looking, but since he's rarely more than a few inches from me, not much escapes his notice. That's part of his paw in the upper part of the picture. I wish that I could ask him what it is with him and the mail. What did the mail ever do to him?