Scary Thing On The Couch

Kelsey kept barking and growling at the couch. He's a rather odd dog anyway, so I didn't pay much attention at first, but it was starting to get on my nerves.

I finally went over to see what he was so upset about and he was looking at a rolled up blanket. It was new and I had set it down without any thought to how frightening it would be. Poor Kelsey. Once I properly introduced him to the blanket, they got along fine. It's not easy being a tough watch dog.

Missing A Uterus

Sarah's home from the hospital and she's lighter by one uterus. She wasn't using her uterus for anything and it was causing her all kinds of problems, so she got rid of it. Sarah got out in record time, just 2 nights. It's impossible to get a decent night's sleep in the hospital with people constantly coming and going, doing things to you, hovering over you and what not. Sarah was desperate to get home so that she could sleep, not to mention see her dogs.

Visiting her in the hospital, it was hard for me to keep my hands off of her. No, it's not what you think. To me, she looked like a patient and I wanted to poke and prod her to properly assess her condition. It was nice of her to let me see her incision and she tolerated my poking her feet and looking for IV sites.

Sarah will be off from work for two months. I wish that I could have that much time off, but I don't want to go through what she did to get it. Perhaps with so much free time, Sarah will want to start her own blog.

Redneck Divorce

Dear Cooter,

Me and Sue Ellen have divorced. The judge gave her the double wide and the pickup. So, like the court order said, I delivered the truck before 2 o'clock, yesterday afternoon.

I took a picture fer proof that I delivered it. Wanted to make sure she found it when she got home.

How's yer day going? See ya later,

Your Buddy,

Bubba "Git er done"

Nice Try

My patient was close to 90 years old and his devoted wife always sat next to his bed and knitted. They seemed like such a sweet couple. She left the room for a few minutes to get something to eat and after she left, the patient said to me, "I want you to be my girlfriend." I just looked at him, and he said the same thing again. I smiled and said I'll just be your nurse instead and walked out. I guess he figured that it was worth a shot.

Another patient told his wife that girls in pink bikinis had been in his room. She just laughed. Thank goodness she didn't believe him. For the gentlemen patients, the nurses often prance around in pink bikinis. The lucid patients are smart enough not to tell and the confused patients aren't believed. ;)

Lastly, a patient kept complaining about cats in her room. Every once in awhile she would shriek when one got near her. When her doctor came to visit, she complained about the cats. As he left the room, he loudly told the nurse to get rid of the cats. After that there were no more problems with imaginary cats. Sometimes all it takes is a man in a white coat for problems to go away.

Melissa Versus The Cherry

Still reeling over my sudden inability to wear anything other than sweat or scrub pants, I started my diet this morning with fierce determination. Just to make sure that there would no unfortunate incidents, I dumped the Christmas cookies in the trash and scooped dog poop on top of them. Feeling virtuous, I went to work and found a 2 pound box of See's chocolates. What's up with that? Christmas is over and we're still getting chocolates. What's wrong with people?

I was so hungry that I felt light-headed and my tummy even hurt. I could smell the chocolate and my mouth was watering like a ravenous dog looking at a steak. I was still in control, though, and I walked out of the kitchen without eating a chocolate.

Just when I thought that I had passed this test, another box of chocolates mysteriously appeared. This time it was chocolate covered cherries, my favorite. (Am I being tested?) I picked up the box to get a better look at them and there was a bag of Hershey's kisses under the box. (Is my guardian angel mad at me?) Just when I thought that things couldn't get any worse, each of my coworkers said that they hate chocolate covered cherries and that I could have them all. (Is the Devil out to get me?)

Not being able to stand it anymore, I took a tiny bite out of one. It was an intensely rich, dark chocolate that practically made my head spin. The juice was running down my fingers, so I tipped the chocolate and drank the juice. I reached in with my tongue, pulled out the cherry and slowly savored it. The chocolate shell I nibbled away at, practically swooning with each tiny bite. The cherry juice was still on my fingers, so I began licking them, tentatively at first, and then with complete abandon, I thrust each finger into my mouth sucking off the syrup. (Did I remember to wash my hands after emptying that last bedpan?)

One wasn't enough. My appetite was insatiable. Weak with desire, I walked out of the kitchen and didn't look back. I went up against a box of chocolate covered cherries and I won.

D-Day

D-day is coming in three weeks. That stands for date-day. I haven't been out on a date since last Spring and now I'm going out on a another one. How time flies. It seems like the date from Hell was just yesterday.

This is a blind date arranged by mutual friends. They have been trying to find a husband for me for the past 8 years. I appreciate their efforts, but needless to say since I'm still single, their efforts have not been met with success. They're going with me on the date, a rule that I have for all blind dates, so if it is a complete disaster, I'll have back-up. I wonder how many other women my age insist on chaperones?

Being the optimist that I am, I'm sure that this date will be a disaster. The only question is in what way will it be a disaster. Will I hate him or will he hate me or scariest of all, will we like each other? I have major commitment issues. My life will be simpler and I won't have to face my issues if the date goes badly. It's not entirely an accident that I'm still single. I wonder what kind of shrink coverage my insurance has?

Fat Phobia

It may not seem like it, but today was Christmas, at least for me it was. My family waited until I had a day off to celebrate, which was today.

Getting dressed for the party was a traumatic experience from which I will not soon recover. I wanted to wear black slacks, so I put on my favorite pair and I couldn't fasten them. I tried on a looser pair that tend to slide down when I walk. They were so tight they hurt. Giving up on black slacks, I tried on a pair of jeans and they looked like they had been painted on. I don't do that look. In desperation, I put on some black scrub pants. Thank God for elastic waistbands. They still fit.

When did this happen? Less than a week ago I wore a bikini and although I was a little plumper than I like to be, I didn't think that I looked that bad. And now suddenly, the only pants I can fit in have elasticized waist bands. This really sucks. It's also scary because of my history with bulimia. This is the kind of event that can trigger a relapse. I hope that I can maintain control and diet the old fashioned way. I also don't dare get on a scale. That would push me over the edge for sure. What does it say about me that part of me would rather risk death than be overweight? The battle for control continues. Damn Christmas goodies.

Free At Last (Sort Of)

She's back! She's finally back! The real charge nurse is back and I'm free again (sort of). It's so nice to sit in my favorite corner again and not be bothered (as much). What bliss. No one complained to me the whole evening. I'm still stuck being charge 40% of the time, but that's a 60% improvement over this last month.

The charge nurse went to Paris and India for vacation. During her stay in Paris, she didn't leave her room until it was time to go to the airport. Why did she refuse to venture out? Because it was cold. Now, I have no doubt that Paris is cold in December, but that's why coats, gloves and hats were invented. Her family wisely ventured out without her and brought her back such French specialties as Chinese take out. She doesn't like French cuisine or even cheese or bread! What a waste. Her family should have taken me instead of her with them.

India was different, but not better. It was oppressively hot and humid and she was dripping in sweat the entire time because the place where she was staying had no air conditioning. It also had no screens on the windows. Her mosquito bites are just starting to heal. She also didn't venture from her accommodations in India, but that I can sort of understand.

She sure is glad to be back home. I know that feeling too. I have had a few vacations that were so nice I never wanted to leave, but I've had many more vacations where coming home was the best part of the trip.

My Cheesy Purse

My purse smells bad. It's more than bad, it positively REEKS. Wondering what died inside of it, I cautiously peeked inside and found two packages of Stilton cheese. I had forgotten that Sarah put it there a couple of days ago.

It's a good thing that Sarah also gave me two new purses for Christmas; otherwise, if I carried my old purse, people might step away from me in shock and horror. Although, that might come in handy for the after Christmas sales. I have to work, but if anyone wants my old pungent purse, you can have it and everyone should stay out of your way. Happy Shopping.

I'm still going to eat the cheese. If my posts stop suddenly, you'll know what happened.

My Festive Christmas

So this was Christmas. I guess that there are worse things than working in a hospital on Christmas, such as being a patient on Christmas. Although we did have one patient who said with a big smile on her face, "I got a hysterectomy for Christmas and it's the best present I ever got." I'll have to take her word for it. My uterus and I are quite happy together.



This patient had his trapeze decorated for Christmas with Christmas lights. It's nice to see people make the best of a bad situation. The lights violated all kinds of hospital rules, so I just pretended not to notice.


As per our union contract, we got fed Christmas dinner. It was a choice of what they called prime rib, Cornish game hens or manicotti. After one of the nurses called the hens abortion chicken, I went with the cow, because the hens looked like fetuses in sauce. Pasta was out of the question after Thanksgiving's pasta fiasco.

Of course the food was bad, but that was okay. After yesterday's binging, it was nice to just sort of pick at something.

And the really good news is that no one coded tonight, because the defibrillator on our crash cart is broken. It being Christmas, there was no one available to fix it. Hopefully, patients will wait until after the holidays to go into cardiac arrest.

Santa Guts On The Lawn

Like kids all over the world, my boys opened their Christmas presents this morning. Delighted with his new toys, Murphy ran outside to play with them.

Mayhem struck. Within seconds, Santa was decapitated, disemboweled and his fluffy white guts were scattered across the lawn.

Murphy then came back in the house and stared at me. I figure he was thinking that was fun, but is that all? Christmas lasted less than a minute. Keep looking at me like that Murphy and I'll get out the antlers again and we'll have another photo shoot. Oh wait, that's right, you also destroyed the antlers. Well, you showed me. (Murphy wins every argument.)

Am I Naughty Or Nice?

The family of a patient gave us a Christmas card along with some goodies. The card looked nice enough, but open it up and it's a different story.

It says, "To the Good nurses and the Naughty nurses, thank you for all your help in the good times and Bad times."

EXCUUUUSE me?!!! Just what do they mean by naughty? And just who are the naughty nurses? Am I one?

Well, my offense at the card didn't stop me from eating their goodies. Principles only go so far and you can't fill a tummy with principles.

Why I'm Feeling Sick

The day started out well. I had tea and three pieces of fruit for breakfast. Lunch was a large green salad with more fruit and cheese. If I had just eaten the pineapple fried rice, pictured below, for dinner, I would have been fine. So why did I turn into a complete lunatic as soon as I got to work? It's because I was greeted by boxes, bags and baskets filled with goodies. Like a half-starved Doberman, I went to work, and I don't mean nursing.

This was on the menu:

Why couldn't I just eat this and be happy? This rice alone could have fed a family.

Was it really necessary to see how much baklava I could eat in one sitting?

Don't even get me started on the Trader Joe's basket.

It was a patient's birthday and we got the left-overs. It would have been impolite to not eat some.
Someone gave us gingerbread cookies with a bag of icing mix with instructions. It involved mixing the icing at medium speed. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but we don't have mixing bowls and electric beaters at the nursing station. The cookies were fine without icing.

Of course we had See's chocolates. That's our staple at work.

There were also Russell Stover's chocolates. We're not going to start on those until the See's is gone. I think that the reason for that goes without saying. There were also the usual butter cookies.

I really didn't need to eat panettone, but I needed something to counteract the sugar.

There was also some gelatinous rice flour, coconut milk and purple yam "delicacy" that I managed to abstain from. I accidently deleted the picture, so please just use your imagination. The bottom half was bright orange, from food coloring, and the top half was bright purple, from the yams. What a shame that I was too full to sample it. What a shame that I can't share a picture of it with you. It has to be seen to be believed.

I feel so sick.

Merry Christmas From A Bunch Of Blondes

Merry Christmas




from Melissa
(I was going to wear a red sweatsuit, but it was too hot. I hope that the bikini is okay.)

Kelsey

Tommy

and Murphy.

(A group picture would have been nice, but there was just no way.)

Happy Politically Correct Whatever

For Our PC Friends:

"Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, our best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low-stress, non-addictive, gender-neutral celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasion and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all. We also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2006, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make America great. Not to imply that America is necessarily greater than any other country nor the only America in the Western Hemisphere. And without regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee. By accepting these greetings you are accepting these terms. This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal. It is freely transferable with no alteration to the original greeting. It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for herself or himself or others, and is void where prohibited by law and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher. This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher."

For Our Non-PC Friends:

Here's wishing all of You a

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Tickle Therapy

Imagine a woman in a horror movie slowly being tortured to death. The screams start deep from the gut and rise in pitch until finally the high note is reached, which is screetched in an ear drum piercing volume. It's worse than a woman in labor. This is the kind of scream that you only hear in the movies or in my unit in the hospital. This is what I listened to all evening. I just wanted to go in and slap her.

A kindly psychiatrist who came to see another patient who decided to go into a catatonic state, took pity on of us and ordered a special cocktail for her. It knocked her out cold for about an hour and then wore off. It was a one time order, so although the break was nice, we and the other patients had to endure that screaming for the rest of the evening. At least I finally got to go home. The patients are stuck, although two other confused patients did decide to chime in occasionally, making for a most unusual and annoying trio.

With regard to the catatonic patient, we have no idea what that was all about. At first they thought that she needed CPR and someone started doing chest compressions. It's a wonder they didn't crack her old ribs. Once they realized her vital signs were normal, they did a CAT scan of the head, thinking that she was having a major stroke. The test was fine along with the labs that were drawn. She was in a catatonic state just because she felt like it. After a few hours she got bored, plus she needed to go to the bathroom, so she "woke up". Why do we get all of the weirdos? If she does that again, I think that they should tickle her until she decides to wake up. Kootchie kootchie koo.....

We Know You Have One

A female patient needed to be catheterized. One nurse tried without success, then another and then another until three of us were surrounding her with all of our hands pulling apart her private parts looking for the hole. I hate it when this happens. She didn't much care for it either. At one point she said, "Are you sure you gals went to nursing school?"

We started out using aseptic technique, but at some point we were just desperate to find the hole and to hell with aseptic technique. A frustrated urologist once told me basically the same thing when he was unable to find the hole and had abandoned any thoughts of cleanliness. He said, "Sometimes it's all about finding the hole. We can give her antibiotics later if she develops an infection."

The right spot was found in an unlikely place, inside the vagina and off to the right. We knew she had a peepee, although I was starting to have doubts. It's too bad that people don't come with standardized parts.

I'm Going To Live

The spitting bastard who spit bloody mucus in my face tested negative for HIV and hepatitis and so did I. He's also still alive and spitting. I think that we should duct tape his mouth shut to prevent any more incidents. Although, with his fighting spirit, he may then start snorting snot at us instead. I suppose if he tried that, we could also tape his nostrils shut. I don't have a problem with that, does anyone else?

Having A Ball And Eating It Too

I found this ice cream maker in a catalog. It's a ball. You put the ingredients in it, roll it around for 20 minutes and then you have ice cream.

I don't know how sturdy the thing is, but if you could take it out in the yard and give it good running kicks, that could be fun. You would get some exercise, work out aggression and then be rewarded with ice cream. I think that they should make it look more like a soccer ball, though.

Body Bag Humor

Another one of our patients died tonight. It was expected, but when he finally died, some members of the family were sobbing loudly and wailing. It went on for so long that one of the nurses joked that we should go in there and tell them that they can only cry for one hour and then they have to leave. (I know. We're sick.) I corrected her and said that they can cry for only two hours, then they have to leave. I'm correct by the way. There really is a hospital rule that dead patients must be removed within two hours. (Who's sick now?)

The family left long before the two hour mourning period was over, thank goodness. The dead patient was placed in a body bag and transportation was called to come get him. During that time, another family member, who had not heard of the death, came to visit him. She walked in the room and saw a corpse in a bag lying on the bed. She came out and asked if he was dead. She was told yes and she left.

Then we started laughing hysterically. It was both tragic and funny. Did she think that we seal people in body bags while they're still alive? We are short of beds, but even we wouldn't do that. Although, it would save time. We could say to the patient that since they're about to die anyway, would they mind sliding into the bag now, so that we don't have to move them later when they're a dead weight.

Committee Lifer Without Parole

I woke up at 8:15 yesterday morning. That's a little early for me. Usually I don't start to regain consciousness until between 10 and 11. The problem was that I was supposed to have left the house by 8. I use the alarm clock so seldom that I can never remember how to use it and I screwed up. Why are alarm clocks so complicated these days?

I had a another stupid committee meeting and they're always so early in the morning.
The jeans and sweater I had worn the day before were still lying on the floor in a jumble, but it was the fastest thing to put on, so I jumped into them. I spent one minute on grooming and ran out the door. I looked like I had spent one minute on grooming too.

Traffic was light and I got there before anyone else. It would have been nice to brush my teeth and put some make-up on while I waited for other people to arrive, but there had been no time, I thought, to pack supplies. It was also the day of our Christmas party, so instead of feeling dressed up for a party, I felt grungy and ugly. Oh well. I still had a good time. And best of all, the party was held on company time, so not only did I get taken out for a nice free lunch, I got paid to eat it.

I had planned on quitting the committee for various reasons, the main one being that I hate committees. The excuse I was going to use was that it was too hard on me to get up so early in the morning due to my work schedule, which is true. I've mentioned that in the past, but no one was willing to start at a more civilized time, so I figured that would be the diplomatic way to end my association. This time when I brought the subject up with the expectation of politely quitting, everyone suddenly agreed that we could start later in the morning for now on. Damn!

Now how am I going to get off that committee? I know for a fact that everyone on that committee wants to quit and is trying to figure out a graceful way to do it. We can't all quit at the same time, so I think that they agreed to a later starting time not to be nice, but to keep me from quitting which would have interfered with their ability to quit. (I'm not paranoid. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not.)

Once I got home, I was looking forward to a nice evening at home and then the phone rang. It was work and they were telling me that I was on the schedule to work. (My shift had just begun in theory and I wasn't there.) I explained why I wasn't working that evening and that someone must have put me on the schedule by mistake. She tried threatening me to come to work, which is never a good idea. I don't respond well to threats. Then she tried guilt and told me about the dire staffing on my unit and my poor coworkers. I still refused to come in, but I spent the evening feeling guilty. Why did I have to pick up the phone? I need to get caller ID.

Grandma's Fudge

My grandma made the best fudge. For years, I tried to get the recipe from her, but she would just give vague instructions without measurements or even exact ingredients. The only thing I knew for sure was that it wasn't marshmallow fudge or the kind of fudge that was cooked to the soft ball stage. Grandma died a couple of years ago at the age of 95, taking the recipe with her.

After countless failures, I came across a recipe that with some modifications, was a reasonable facsimile of Grandma's fudge. This recipe is too good not to share. It's my Christmas present to everyone.

Grandma's Fudge

41/2 cups sugar
12 oz. evaporated milk (not sweetened condensed)
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 pound butter (no substitutions)
1 pound of imported Swiss or Belgian dark or bitter chocolate (no substitutions)
2 cups of walnuts (not chopped)
1 T. vanilla
1/4 cup Droste's cocoa, optional (If you can't find it, leave it out. Don't substitute any other brand)

Combine sugar, evaporated milk and salt in a large saucepan. Cook over medium heat for 14 minutes. (If the heat is too high or too low, the recipe will fail.) Start timing the mixture when it comes to a full boil. Stir occasionally.

In a large mixing bowl, place the butter, chocolate and cocoa. After the syrup is cooked, pour it over the chocolate-butter mixture. With an electric mixer, beat at high speed for 10 minutes. Stir in nuts and vanilla. Pour into a greased 9x12 inch pan. Refridgerate until firm. Makes about 4 lbs.

The Redhead

A gorgeous young redhead goes into the doctor's office and says that she hurts anywhere on her body if she touches herself.

"Impossible!" says the doctor. "Show me."

The redhead takes her finger, pushes on her left breast and screams, and then she pushes her elbow and screams in even more agony. She pushes her knee and screams; likewise she pushes her ankle and screams. Everywhere she touches makes her scream.

The doctor says, "You're not really a redhead, are you?"

"Well, no" she says, "I'm actually a blonde."

"I thought so," the doctor says. "Your finger is broken."

Thanks, Running 2ks

Dish Licking Machine

Running a dishwasher takes electricity, water and gas. I have a much cheaper way to get my dishes clean. I just leave the dishwasher door open and the dogs take care of the washing for me. See? Dogs are good for something.

It's Just Wrong

This is the view out my kitchen window. It's hard to see in the photo, but that's a Christmas wreath hanging in the corner with yellow, changing leaves outside. What's up with Fall and Christmas coming at the same time? It's just unnatural.

Cookie Time

I made cookies! To save time, I made three kinds all at once. I lined up three bowls and assembly line fashion, began dumping ingredients in the bowls. It sounds like a recipe for disaster, but I didn't get the bowls or the recipes mixed up. I must have forgot that I'm blonde. The only thing that slowed me down was oven capacity, but I have a lot of cookie sheets, so I just had trays of cookies waiting to be baked. Baking is the easy part and the oven is just a few feet from my computer, so it was convenient.
This is the finished product, gingerbread cookies, Russian tea cakes and chocolate drops. I cook only with unsalted butter, never margarine, oil or shortening, regardless of what the recipe calls for and the results are worth it. I know that it's in poor taste to say so, but they are really good.

I have bags of cookies in my freezer, so feel welcome to come over and have some. There's plenty for everyone.

Misadventurous Sarah

My friend Sarah chose a dark, cold night to hang Christmas lights from her roof. She knows that she and ladders are not a good combination. Several months ago she fell off of one and cracked some ribs, but with unstoppable determination she decided to climb a ladder again.

This wasn't an ordinary ladder. This ladder was expandable to three stories and weighed so much that it broke the tiles on Sarah's roof or maybe Sarah broke the tiles herself when the predictable happened. The ladder began to sway and she managed to scamper on to the roof just before the ladder crashed to the ground.

Sarah then found herself stranded on her roof on a cold, dark night. A friend was in the house, but was busy doing other things and was unaware of Sarah's predicament. Sarah began jumping on the roof which got all five dogs barking, but dogs often bark. She remained freezing cold on the roof with no one coming to the rescue. There is a difference of opinion how long Sarah was on the roof, but I'm sure that it felt like an eternity to her.

So Sarah, I have two things to say:

1) Get your own blog, so that you can tell people about your misadventures. (Your telling of the story was funnier than mine.)

2) Stay off of ladders!

Warning: After Dinner Vomit

This what the patients got for dinner tonight.


This is what we got back from the patients after dinner. This is routine. Most of our post-op patients vomit after dinner, but still, we keep feeding them after surgery. Patients also tend to vomit in the lid that covers their plate just because it's there. What I find to be unusual here is that the lid with vomit in it is on the cart to be returned to the kitchen. I rinse the lid out when that happens, but not this nurse. I wonder how the people in the kitchen feel about getting vomit returned to them.

Spitting Bastard Karma

When I came to my unit today, after the annoyance of having my blood drawn, the spitting bastard was gone. His bed was empty and his name had been erased from the board. That worried me. He was too sick to have been discharged, so I was afraid that he had died. It turned out that he started to crash during the night and had been transferred to ICU.

I was relieved that the bastard was still alive not because of any fondness for him, but because if he had died, I would have worried that he had some horrible, infectious disease that I might have contracted, like rabies. He was foaming at the mouth. Okay?I figure as long as he's alive, then I'm okay too. (I hate being neurotic. )

As my coworkers arrived, they also wondered what happened to the bastard and a couple of people teased me about whether I had done something to him. I didn't have to, karma took care of him. Spit blood on me and the powers that be will put you in ICU. I'm special. *cough*

Something To Offend Everyone

Why is divorce so expensive?

Because it's worth it.

What do attorneys use for birth control?

Their personalities.

What's the difference between a girlfriend and wife?

45 lbs

What's the difference between a boyfriend and husband?

45 minutes

What's the fastest way to a man's heart?

Through his chest with a sharp knife.

Why do men want to marry virgins?

They can't stand criticism.

Why is it so hard for women to find men that are sensitive, caring, and good-looking?

Because those men already have boyfriends.

What's the difference between a new husband and a new dog?

After a year, the dog is still excited to see you

What makes men chase women they have no intention of marrying?

The same urge that makes dogs chase cars they have no intention of driving.

What's the difference between a porcupine and BMW?

A porcupine has the pricks on the outside.

What did the blonde say when she found out she was pregnant?"

Are you sure it's mine?"

Why does Mike Tyson cry during sex?

Mace will do that to you.

Why did OJ Simpson want to move to Arkansas ?

Everyone has the same DNA.

Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact?

Breasts don't have eyes.

Did you hear about the dyslexic Rabbi?

He walks around saying "Yo."

Why do drivers' education classes in Redneck schools use the car only on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays?

Because on Tuesday and Thursday, the Sex Ed class uses it.

Where does an Irish family go on vacation?

A different bar.

What would you call it when an Italian has one arm shorter than the other?

A speech impediment.

What does it mean when the flag at the Post Office is flying at half-mast?

They're hiring.

What's the difference between a southern zoo and a northern zoo?

A southern zoo has a description of the animal on the front of the cage along with... "a recipe".

How do you get a sweet little 80-year-old lady to say the F word?

Get another sweet little 80-year-old lady to yell *BINGO*!

Why is there no Disneyland in China ?

No one's tall enough to go on the good rides

AND....LAST What's the difference between a northern fairytale and a southern fairytale?

A northern fairytale begins "Once upon a time..." A southern fairytale begins "Y'all ain't gonna believe this s....

Thanks, Sarah

The Spitting Bastard

My shift ended with me waiting in ER to be seen by a doctor. I was there all because of the spitting bastard. What happened is that earlier today a tube had been pushed down his nose and because he didn't cooperate, it turned into a bloody mess. No, I'm not the one who did that to him. Anyway, blood was oozing out his nostrils and bubbly, bloody saliva was running down his chin. He's a drooler. Later, the bastard's IV line became occluded and while I was bent over him fixing it, he spit in my face. Little droplets of blood got in my eyes, nose and mouth. I yelled at him, but left without killing him. I have so much self-control.

I reported the incident and had to fill out a stack of forms. He needed to be tested for HIV and various forms of hepatitus, which was a problem because he was too confused to sign a consent for the HIV testing. We ended up doing it without a consent. I'll worry about that glich later. Then, most annoying of all, I had to go to ER to get my blood drawn also. There was no chance that I infected him, the concern is that if he does test positive, they want to be able to establish whether I acquired the illness from him. If I test negative today and positive at some future date, then their liability is established. However, if I test positive today, then they have no liability no matter what the patient's test results are.

The bastard is at low risk for having anything. This is more of a nuisance than anything and because ER kept me waiting so long, I walked out without being seen. I'll have to go to work early tomorrow to take care of that.

Noodle Roulette

Someone from day shift left behind a container of pancit. It was half-eaten and had been sitting on the counter all day. Who would believe that one of my coworkers was lusting after it.

It was around 9 pm when I saw her heating up the container. It had to have been sitting at room temperature since lunch time. She said that she didn't know who it belonged to, but she was hungry and was going to eat it. She must not worry about cooties. I wouldn't eat anyone's half-eaten food, much less the food from some unknown person. She agreed with my time estimate for how long it had been sitting on the counter, but didn't care. I suggested at least discarding the shrimp and chicken, but she just looked at me.

If I ate that, I would die before they got me to the emergency room. She'll probably be just fine. People from other countries seem to have a higher tolerance for food borne pathogens. Personally, I wouldn't play Russian Roulette for a bunch of noodles. Chocolate, maybe, but never noodles.

Saint Sarah

My friend Sarah is fostering a Golden Retriever who was abandoned and found in a state of near starvation. Kerry Bear has a serious seizure disorder, perhaps brought on by starvation, and his life expectancy is maybe a week. Sarah is providing hospice care so that Kerry can spend what time he has left surrounded by love and nurturing.

Sarah, like many of us, is having a hard time getting into the Christmas spirit, but it appears to me that she represents the true spirit of Christmas. Giving hospice care to a poor, abandoned creature is a noble act for which Sarah deserves Sainthood. Shouldn't Christmas be about acts of compassion and kindness, rather than gifts, parties and decorations?

All Lit Up (More or Less)

I'm still not in the mood for Christmas, but it's coming whether I like it or not, so I have to get ready. The presents are all purchased and wrapped, which is a huge load off of me. I didn't feel like putting up lights on my house, but I did anyway. Instead of stringing lights along the eaves, as I've done in the past, I tossed the lights on the shrubs. It was faster, safer and I think the results are good enough. I won't win any decorating awards, but that's okay. I'm just trying to get by this season.

I made the decision to not buy a tree. It's possible that I'll change my mind, but it will save time to skip it. But, I am missing the pine fragrance. The wreaths and other stuff just aren't doing the trick for me.

I'm not doing my traditional baking or candy making. Everyone is so concerned about health and diets, that very little of it gets eaten. I certainly don't want that stuff lying around here tempting me and keeping it in the freezer won't help. I'll eat it frozen.

I'm also coming up on the anniversary of my separation date. Why did I move out on Dec. 21? Couldn't I have waited until after New Years? Not only did that Christmas get screwed up, but every Christmas since then got screwed up too by the bad memories. I need to start making new memories to replace the old ones, but that's easier said than done.

Sorry about my mood. I know I'm not being much fun. I'll try to snap out of it. Maybe a Christmas tree will help along with some home-baked cookies and fudge. We'll see.

Sock Thief

Most people have the problem of missing socks. When one of my socks goes missing, I know exactly where to look for it. It will be out on the lawn, under a bush or on a dog bed. Well, okay, I won't know exactly where it is, but I'll know who took it, Murphy the sock thief. Now, all I have to do is find the mate.

Who Do You Look Like?

If Grace Kelly and Dennis Quaid got married and had a kid, what would they get? ME. I've been playing with a fun link that Dave Goodman had on eMusings dkgoodman.com/blog, We're Like *That* . The site scans photos and will tell you what celebrities you most resemble.

It doesn't surprise me that my mother looks most like Grace Kelly (72%). I can sort of see the Dennis Quaid in my father (60%). What surprises me is who I most resemble. Most people think that I look like Darryl Hannah or maybe Dianne Keaton. After running several different photos with varying results, the winner was Enya (72%). Maybe if I cut my hair, dyed it black and learned to sing...nah, never mind.

I'm really offended that it couldn't read my dog's face. The screen just said "Sorry, no face detected" when I gave them Murphy's picture. How dare they! His face is prettier than most celebrities. What do they mean that they couldn't detect a face?

Bloody Bookends

The shift ended the same way that it started, with a crazy man leaking blood from his penis and yelling his head off. They were different patients, but what they had in common was dementia and a catheter. Why is it that when people are confused, the first thing they do is pull all of their clothes off and start yanking on their catheters? It must hurt. Even despite the pain and blood flowing everywhere, they will continue to yank away. I don't get it.

The problem was solved the same way. Drugs, restraints and then tighter restraints. One of the patients was yelling in Spanish, so we have no idea what was in his mind. The other patient believed that he was in a gas station and we were holding him hostage. Asking him to look around the room at the other beds and read our nurse badges had no effect. To him it looked like a gas station and he couldn't understand why the old hags (his name for us) wouldn't let him leave. Sometimes, I wish that I could say, GO AHEAD... LEAVE...GET.

We Didn't Mean To Kill Her

Did you see the title? I meant it. Stop reading if you're squeamish, especially if you have issues with dead people.

Last night while the unit was being decorated for the holidays, one of our patients died. While she was still alive and thrashing around, we were debating what to do about her. She was old, dying and was to receive comfort measures only, no heroics. The problem was that she was in respiratory distress. We didn't want her to suffer, but we knew that if we gave her morphine, it would most likely hasten her death because morphine suppresses the respiratory system. There were no family members to talk to, so this was our call. After talking it over, we made the decision to give the morphine. An hour later we found her dead. Maybe she would have died at that moment anyway, we'll never know. We weren't trying to kill her, only make her more comfortable.

So, while our coworkers outside the room were laughing and joking while decorating our unusual trees, we had to prepare the body and get it in a bag. We ended up laughing more than the decorators. I know it's sick that we were laughing, but it's amazing how many gross things a dead body can do.

When I removed her oxygen, she gurgled one last time. We rolled her over and she burped and pooped. We couldn't get her jaw tied shut. Every time we thought we had it, her jaw would flop back open. Fluid was oozing from her skin like a wet sponge. I picked up her foot to take some orthopedic equipment off of it, and while squeezing her foot, juice ran down my arm. Once we got her in the bag and were zipping it up, her eyes popped open. (I warned you to stop reading.)

Then, after laughing nearly hysterically at work, I cried all of the way home. This is what it's like to be a nurse.

Don't Forget To Floss

This is what happens to people who don't take care of their teeth. They get fed pureed chicken, peas and potatoes.

Don't forget to visit the dentist regularly.

Oh Christmas Boot, Oh Christmas Boot...

Not much had been done to decorate our unit for Christmas. I really wasn't in the mood to decorate, but something had to be done. We couldn't be the only unit in the hospital not fancied up. So, I assigned the decorating to two of my coworkers. We have several boxes of ornaments and stuff along with a fake tree in a closet. They got everything down and opened the tree box and it was empty. Someone had stolen our tree.

I had had no interest in decorating until I found out that our tree was gone. Suddenly, I felt a fire in my spirit and was determined that we would decorate something, I didn't really care what. I dug through some closets and found an orthopedic boot and a blue abduction pillow (used for holding people's legs apart). I told my coworkers to decorate those.

This is the boot. It's sort of like a Christmas stocking, but it can stand up on it's own. The red and black colors are rather striking I think.

This is the abduction pillow. It turned out much better than I expected. I'm impressed that my coworkers were able to work with so little and get such good results. I would like to see Martha Stewart decorate a boot and abduction pillow with such good results.

Wrapping A Puppy

This pup wouldn't fit in the gift bag, so I left it like this. After all, that's what a real dog would would be doing, trying to climb out of the bag.

Christmas Picture Out-takes

Stay...stay...I said stay.
Murph, smile. Go on, smile. Please stop looking at me like that.


Hey! No tug of war.
Stop looking down. Hold your head up.
Hold your head up like this.
(What did I do to deserve this?)

(I want to hide my head in shame. You're going to put these pictures on the Internet, aren't you?)

Colored Trees And A Bear

This is the view from one of the patient rooms. Some of the trees are starting to turn reddish in the Valley. This view was taken closer to the window. The color change is pretty good for here. By January, the trees should be done changing color.

I found this bear at work sitting on a counter. Curious about who it belonged to, I checked the name band.


It just said bear. It appears that he is one of our patients. I hope that I get to take care of him. He would be the perfect patient.