Birthday Dog

Today is Murphy's tenth birthday and I nearly had him put down. He was so weak yesterday that he could barely walk. He fell down the stairs and nearly drowned in the pond. Getting into the pond, his legs collapsed sending his head under water while his stomach and back legs were splayed on the edging. He couldn't get up and was under water for several seconds until I could rescue him. He shook like a leaf after that and later I noticed that blood was pouring from his side which he cut on the rocks. The pond is frothy from all of the blood in it.

For the rest of the day he was shaky. He would take a few steps and fall down. Not wanting him to suffer, I made an appointment with the vet to put him down. The fist available appointment was for today.

I called in sick to work so that we could spend Murphy's last day together, but I couldn't have been much fun for Murph to put up with. I sobbed for hours and shook from heartbreak.

This morning I got up early to prepare and Murph was fine. He ate his Birthday steak for breakfast and is walking well, for him.

I took him to the vet anyway to get medication for him. He's now on large doses of steroids, antibiotics and if he seems to be in pain, I have pain meds for him.

I don't think that Murph has much time left, but he has surprised me before. The vet originally didn't think that he would make it past March or April, but he made it to his birthday. Every day is precious.

Mystery Message

This is something that has been bothering me for some time. The little pictures are on boards in the patient's rooms. Sorry that it is out of focus.

The picture of the ear I get. It means that the patient has hearing aides and to be careful that they don't get lost.

The picture of the eye glasses means that the patient has glasses, although personally, I think it looks more like a bra.

The picture of the teeth warns us that the patient has dentures.

What I've never been able to figure out was what the leaf meant. Is it a grape leaf and we are to watch out for smuggled wine? Are we supposed to make sure that their flowers are kept watered?

I finally found out what it means. Anyone want to guess?

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, we don't actually use the board. It's just another one of those things that is ignored.

Prison Versus Work

IN PRISON..you spend the majority of your time in an 8X10 cell.
AT WORK... you spend the majority of your time in a 6X6 cubicle.

IN PRISON... you get three meals a day.
AT WORK... you only get a break for one meal if you're lucky and you pay for it.

IN PRISON... you get time off for good behavior.
AT WORK... you get more work for good behavior.

IN PRISON... the guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you.
AT WORK... you must carry around a security card and open all the doors
for yourself.



IN PRISON... you can watch TV and play games.
AT WORK... you get fired for watching TV and playing games.

IN PRISON... you get your own toilet.
AT WORK... you have to share with some idiot who pees on the seat.


IN PRISON... they allow your family and friends to visit.
AT WORK... you're not supposed to even speak to your family.



IN PRISON... the taxpayers pay all expenses with no work required.
AT WORK.. you get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they
deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.



IN PRISON... you spend most of your life inside bars wanting to get out.
AT WORK... you spend most of your time wanting to get out and go inside
bars


Have a Great Day at WORK!!!

I need a vacation.

Summer Snow

It is hot, but I think that AOL is exaggerating. It's in the low 100's not 125, unless my thermometer is broken.

Despite the heat it's snowing, sort of. It's only ashes, but it's pretty and looks like snow flakes coming down. I'm going to have loads of fun dusting over the next few days.

Beginning Of The Fire Season

Now I know why the sky has been so loud this morning. While walking the dogs I saw this on the other side of the freeway. Of course helicopters and planes are working on it, so there is a constant background roar.

I hope that no homes are lost and that it stays away from the freeway. There is nothing quite like trying to get to work when the freeway and surface roads are all closed.

New Terrorist Trick

The damn terrorists have sunk to a new low. Roadside bombs, suicide
bombers, bombs strapped to babies, but this...it's just friggin wrong.
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Thanks, Sarah.

I Want A New Dress!

Well, I'm glad that's over. I've been trying to write a little post most of the day and couldn't. There was some big ugly, black Blogger beta thing at the top of my blog instead of the usual discrete heading. Besides being ugly, it didn't work. I couldn't access my dashboard or even leave comments on anyone else's blog. Even the Blogger main page was down.

I should be used to it by now, but few things in life upset me more than when Blogger misbehaves. In the grand scheme of things, it shouldn't matter, but it does. I hope that the beta thing stays away for good.

Now I can talk about the frustration of trying to buy a dress. See what an important topic that I was being denied my God-given right to blog about?

My employer throws a nice party for people celebrating work anniversary dates that end in a five or a zero. This is my year, so it seemed like the perfect excuse to buy a nice dress. I didn't think that it would be this hard. It's not like I was looking for a bathing suit, but the harsh lights in the dressing room were so unforgiving that every outfit made me look fat, so I left empty-handed.

The main problem I was having was squeezing my boobs in the dresses. Since I don't have much in the way of boobs, this makes no sense, but most of the dresses squished me flat and the excess boobs were squeezed out the arm holes.

I think the problem is that I'm tall and broad-shouldered with a large rib cage. Inside a dress, that doesn't leave much room for boobs, even mine. Larger sizes make me look like I'm wearing a potato sack.

I hope this doesn't mean that I have to wear an old dress from my closet. What's the fun in that?

It would also help if clothing stores used nice lighting in the dressing rooms. When women feel ugly under harsh lighting, it makes them want to leave as fast as possible without buying anything.

Thanks for listening to my rant.

Tools, A Bowel And No Talking

For some of our more infectious patients, we have disposable stethoscopes. We're trying not to spread any more germs than we have to. One of the nurses said that she was going to take a disposable stethoscope home with her so that she could take the blood pressure of a family member. There are just two problems with this:

1) This is theft

2) She doesn't own a stethoscope?!!! This is like a plumber not owning a wrench.

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I was having some difficulty understanding my English as a second language patient. He said something about wanting a bowel. I asked him to repeat it and he said something about a bowel again. I just stared at him and then he said he needed something to throw up in. He wanted a bowl.

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I overheard a patient complaining of gas pains to his nurse. Her reply was, "Don't talk too much, talking causes gas." This is something new to me. Have you ever heard of this?

Blank Blog

I don't know what happened, but my opening blog page was an empty page. I figured that Blogger must be down, so I visited other Blogger blogs and they were fine. I wondered if it was just a local problem, so I visited another L.A. blogger. His blog was fine. It had to be just me.

When I went to bed last night, I hoped that it would be magically fixed during the night. I didn't sleep well wondering what I was going to do. Should I start over with another blog company or just quit blogging altogether?

This morning with shaky, wet hands, I worked on the problem. Without boring you with all of the details, I ended up re-publishing my blog and it re-appeared. I'm not going to quit blogging after all.

I was like an addict going through withdrawal. Now that I've had my blogging fix, life is good again, more or less.

Intergalactic Battle And Tea

Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Alabama.

The professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story.

You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.
Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students: Rebecca and Gary.

THE STORY:

First paragraph by Rebecca

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

Second paragraph by Gary

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. " A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off, bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

Rebecca

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he Felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her." Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

Gary

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

Rebecca

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.

Gary

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

Rebecca

A_hole.

Gary

Bitch

Rebecca

F__K YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!

Gary
Go drink some tea - whore.

Teacher

A+ - I really liked this one.

(Thanks, Sarah.)

Rapunzel's Secret

This hair care product was advertised in a catalog. Apparently it is supposed to make hair grow several inches a month. I would love to have a product that would do that to my hair. Instead of having several years worth of hair, I could have all new, fresh hair every few months. There would be no more damaged ends to deal with.

The only downside for me would be keeping up with white roots.

If this product really did what it purports to do, I don't think that they would have to advertise in a catalog that also sells things like lawn mower covers, paper towel holders, sex toys and incontinence pads. People would be buying faster than they could manufacture it.

If such a product really could make your hair grow several inches a month, would you want to use it?

Milk Bowl And An Itchy Chin

After the patient finished dinner, I removed her food tray. I couldn't help but notice that she had poured her milk into a bowl. Why would someone do that? I wanted to ask her, but knew of no polite way to ask her.

My theory is that she has a cat hidden in her room.

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Don't you just hate it when someone catches you scratching your chin with your front teeth? That happened to me last night. My hands were full and my chin itched, so I rubbed my chin back and forth with my teeth. Doesn't everybody do that? I didn't realize until too late that I was being observed.

Green Dog

The Murph is green again. Among today's projects is washing the Murph.

Penis And Peanuts

The nurse walked into the room and asked the patient if he was still 61. He didn't speak English, but his wife did. She began shaking her finger, nodding her head from side to side and saying, "No, no no."

What she thought the nurse asked was if he was still sexually active. Poor guy.

Later, this same nurse was grimacing, obviously in pain. Asked what was wrong, she moaned that she ate penis earlier and now her back hurt. Another nurse sympathized and said that she used to eat penis all of the time, but now it makes her stomach hurt.

They pronounce peanuts the same as penis. I knew what they meant, but as they continued to complain about penis I couldn't stand it any longer. I started laughing which ended the discussion.

Imagine if they got jobs in a ballpark selling peanuts. They would be yelling out PENIS!

Quick And Mean Or Slow And Nice

I picked up the phone and dialed a number. Unexpectedly, a woman answered. I panicked and hung up. No, I'm not dating a married man. I was just trying to clock in at work and instead of getting an automated male voice, I got a female one. It's just as well. I've always hated that male recording. As long as you do everything right he's okay, but if you make a mistake, he turns into a snotty, sneering bastard.

If you accidently call on the wrong line, he'll say in his snooty, arrogant tone, "You are not authorized to clock in on this line. " If your finger slips more than once while punching in the ridiculously long string of numbers, He'll chastise you in that hateful tone and say, "You have made too many mistakes. Talk to your supervisor."

I'll silently mouth a swear word or two at him, while wishing that he was with me in person so that I could strangle him. There is no need to talk in that tone of voice.

The new female recording is pleasant enough, but she talks too slowly and stumbles over some of the words. We all know the drill and get impatient waiting for her to say her lines so that we can clock in. I hate the bastard, but I kind of want him back.

Another Pond Dog

I don't know how this happened. It may have been an accident, but I found Kelsey in the pond. Kelsey doesn't like water. He must have fallen in and decided that he liked it. Or, maybe Murph has been giving him swimming lessons when I haven't been looking.

A Dog And A Towel

It's kind of hard to tell where the dog ends and the towel begins. I woner if vets do face lifts?

Rat Patty And A Prat-Fall

Don't you just hate it when your day starts out like this? I walked outside and felt something gush between my toes. It was poop and I hadn't even gotten to work yet.

While walking the boys, I noticed a rat patty on the sidewalk. In case you're wondering, a rat patty is a dead, dried, squished rat. Murph managed to step on it which distracted me from noticing that Kelsey was crossing my path. I tripped over Kelse and both of us tumbled, fell off the sidewalk and landed in the gutter. Kelse was fine and I just got a few scrapes.

That's the third time I have fallen in a gutter. The first time I was wearing high heels and an evening gown on my way to a ballet. Not used to heels, I lost my balance as I stepped off a curb and landed in the gutter. The second time, I was wearing white scrubs on my way to my job interview with my current employer. I tripped over a fire hydrant and rolled, landing sprawled in the gutter. They hired me even though I was dirty. At least this time it didn't matter that I got dirty.

What Do You Suppose He Really Wants?

I received the following email. What do you think I should do? ;)

"Good day,

I am Mr. Greg Stevenson, staff of Kleinwort Benson. I am contacting you concerning a deceased customer and an investment he placed under our banks management three years ago. I Would respectfully request that you keep the contents of this mail confidential and respect the integrity of the information you come by as a result of this mail. I am contacting you independently of our investigation and no one is informed of this communication. I would like to intimate you with certain facts that I believe would be of interest to you.

In the year 2002, the subject matter; came to our bank to engage in business discussions withour private banking division. He informed us that he had a financial portfolio ofSix Million United States dollars, which he wished to have us turn over (invest) onhis behalf. I was the officer assigned to his case, I made numerous suggestions in line with my duties as the de-facto chief operations officer of the private banking sector then, especially given the volume of funds he wished to put into our bank. We met on numerous occasions prior to any investments being placed. I encouraged him to consider various growth funds with prime ratings. The favored route in my advice to customers is to start by assessing data on 6000 traditional stocks and bond managers and 2000 managers of alternative investments.

Based on my advice, We spun the money around various opportunities and made attractive margins for our first months of operation, the accrued profit and interest stood at this point at over Two million United States Dollars, this margin was not the full potential of the fund but he desired low risk guaranteed returns on investments. In mid 2003, he asked that the money be liquidated because he needed to make an urgent investment requiring cash payments in Helsinki- Finland. He directed that I liquidate the funds and deposit it with a security firm. I informed him that my Bank would have to make special arrangements to have this done and in order not to circumvent due process, the bank would have to make a 9.5 % deduction from the funds to cater for banking and statutory charges. He complained about the charges but later came around when I explained to him the complexities of the task he was asking of us.

Cash movement across boarders has become especially strict since the incidents of 9/11. I contacted my affiliate and made the funds available to the security firm. I undertook all the processes and made sure I followed his precise instructions to the letter and had the funds deposited with the security firm. The Security Firm is a specialist private firm that accepts deposits from high net worth individuals and blue chip corporations that handle valuable products or undertake transactions that need immediate access to cash. This small and highly private organization is familiar especially to the highly placed and well-connected organizations. In line with instructions, the money was depositedwith the security firm. The deceased told me he wanted the money there inanticipation of his arrival from Norway later that week. This was the lastcommunication we had, this transpired around 25th of November 2003.

In June last year, we got a call from the security firm informing us about the inactivity of that particular portfolio. This was an astounding position as far as I was concerned, given the fact that I managed the private banking sector I was the only one who knew about the deposit at the security firm, and I could not understand why the deceased had not come forward to claim his deposit. I made futile efforts to locate the deceased. I immediately passed the task of locating him to the internal investigations department of Kleinwort Benson. Four days later, information started to trickle in, apparently our client was dead. A person who suited his description was declared dead of a heart attack in canne, in Southern part of France.We were soon enough to identify the body and cause of death was confirmed.

The bank immediately launched an investigation into possible surviving next of kin to alert about the situation and also to come forward to claim his estate. If you are familiar with private banking affairs, those who patronize our services usually prefer anonymity, but also some levels of detachment from conventional processes. In his bio-data form, he listed no next of kin. In the field of private banking, opening an account with us means no one will know of its existence, accounts are rarely held under a name; depositors use numbers and codes to make the accounts anonymous. This bank also gives the choice to depositors of having their mail sent to them or held at the bank itself, ensuring that there are no traces of the account and as I said, rarely do they nominate next of kin. Private banking clients apart from not nominating next of kin also usually in most cases leave wills in our care, in this case; the deceased died without a testate. In line with our internal processes for account holders who have passed away, we instituted our own investigations in good faith to determine who should have right to claim the estate. This investigation has for the past months been unfruitful. We have scanned every continent and used our private investigation affiliate companies to get to the root of the problem. It is this investigation that resulted in my being furnished with your details as a possible relative of the deceased.

My present official capacity as the Head of Finance dictates that I am the only party to supervise the investigation and the only party to receive the results of the investigation. What this means, is that our dear late fellow died with no known or identifiable family member. This leaves me as the only person with the full picture of what the prevailing situation is in relation to the deposit and the late beneficiary of the deposit.

What I wish to relate to you will smack of unethical practice but I want you to understand something. It is only an outsider to the banking world who finds the internal politics of the banking world aberrational. The world of private banking especially is fraught with huge rewards for those that occupy certain offices and oversee certain portfolios.

You should have begun by now to put together the general direction of what I propose. There is Six Million dollars deposited in a security firm, I alone have the deposit details and they will release the deposit to no one unless I instruct them to do so. I alone know of the existence of this deposit for as far as my Bank is concerned.The transaction with our late customer concluded when I sent the funds to the security firm, all outstanding interactions in relation to the file are just customer services and due process. The security Firm has no sign or idea, history or nature of the deposit. They are simply awaiting instructions to release the deposit to any party that comes forward.

This is the situation. This bank has spent great amounts of money trying to track this man's family, they have investigated for months and have found no family. The investigation has come to an end. This is what i want to do, I now seek your permission to present you as a next of kin to the deceased, as all documentations will be carefully worked to make you the beneficiary to the funds $6,000 000 00 (Six Million United states Dollar), I am prepared to place you in a position to instruct The security Firm to release the deposit to you as the closest surviving relation. Upon receipt of the deposit, I am prepared to share the money with you. That is:- I will simply nominate you as the next of kin and have them release the deposit to you. We share the proceeds 60/40.

I would have gone ahead to ask that the funds be released to me, but that would have drawn a straight line to me and my involvement in claiming the deposit. I assure you that I could have the deposit released to you within a few days. I will simply inform Kleinwort Benson of the final closing of the file relating to the deceased. I will then officially communicate with The Security Firm and instruct them to release the deposit to you. With these two things: all is done. The alternative would be for us to have The Security Firm direct the funds to another bank with you as account holder. This way there will be no need for you to think of receiving the money from The Security Company. We can fine-tune this based on our interactions am aware of the consequences of this proposal.

I ask that if you find no interest in this project that you should discard this mail. I ask that you do not be vindictive and destructive. If my offer is of no appeal to you, delete this message and forget I ever contacted you. Do not destroy my career because you do not approve of my proposal. You may not know this but people like myself who have made tidy sums out of comparable situations run the whole private banking sector.

I am not a criminal and what I do, I do not find against good conscience, this may be hard for you to understand, but the dynamics of my industry dictates that I make this move. Such opportunities only come ones' way once in a lifetime. I cannot let this chance pass me by, for once I find myself in total control of my destiny. These chances won't pass me by. I ask that you do not destroy my chance, if you will not work with me let me know and let me move on with my life but do not destroy me. There is a reward for this project and it is a task well worth undertaking.

I have evaluated the risks and the only risk I have here is from you refusing to work with me and alerting my bank. I am the only one who knows of this situation, good fortune has blessed you with a luck that has planted you into the center of relevance in my life. Let's share the blessing. If you find yourself able to work with me, contact me through this email account. If you give me positive signals, I will initiate this process towards a conclusion.

I wish to inform you that should you contact me via official channels; I will deny knowing you and about this project. I repeat, I do not want you contacting me through my official phone lines nor do I want you contacting me through my official email account. Contact me only through the numbers I will provide for you and also through this email address. I do not want any direct link between you and myself. My official lines are not secured lines as they are periodically monitored to assess our level of customer care in line with our Total Quality Management Policy. Please observe this instruction religiously.

Please, again, note that I am a family man, I have a wife and children. I send you this mail not without a measure of fear as to what the consequences, but I know within me that nothing ventured is nothing gained and that success and riches never come easy or on a platter of gold. This is the one truth I have learned from my private banking clients. Do not betray my confidence. Kindly send your response to my private email:office1@mail.az

I await your response.

Mr. Greg Stevenson "

Drug Sucker

My patient was a classic drug-seeker. He knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn't going to shut-up until he got it. What he wanted was dilaudid and norco together. The other patients had been suffering through hours of belligerent yelling and I was ready to kill him when the doctor finally agreed to give him what he wanted. Once drugged, he was sleepy and not that much trouble.

Half-way through my shift, we got another nurse who took over that patient from me. I warned her to keep him sedated because we really didn't like him when he is wide awake. She just laughed and told me that I'm funny. I wasn't being funny, I was serious. Needless to say, she allowed the medications to wear off and soon we had a raving lunatic on our hands again. He also got the hots for her and wouldn't stop asking her out and making inappropriate sexual remarks. After that, she drugged him up again.

He had no insurance, so my hospital tried to transfer him to USC, but they wouldn't take him. There were no beds available. We had no choice but to treat him for his antibiotic resistant infection in his leg. After a few days, we were sick to death of him and his manipulative drug-seeking behavior. Then the discharge planner had an idea. She got an order to discharge him home and told him to drive to the ER at USC. Like us, they can't refuse patients coming to their ER and so they would have to admit him. She even copied some of our records to send with him to make sure that USC would know exactly how serious his infection was. I bet USC is mad at us, but then really, who isn't?

After he left, I opened his dilaudid pump and discovered that the bag was empty. The pump is inside a locked case, so I couldn't figure out how he got the drug. It was then that I noticed that the tubing was cut. He must have sliced the tubing and sucked out the dilaudid.

On the way out, he also stole a wheelchair. He had one at home. Wasn't it enough that he got several free days of care along with mind-blowing drugs? Did he have to steal a wheelchair as well?

And guess who got blamed for the stolen wheelchair? Me. We routinely allow family members to wheel out patients to the entrance. We are so short-staffed and transportation is so slow that we don't have much choice. Normally people leave the wheelchairs at the entrance. How was I supposed to know that he would steal his?

Have I Mentioned My Ant Problem?

This is my solution to the ants getting in the dog food.

Mystery Machine

The patient wanted a heating pad for his feet. A heating pad requires a doctor's order, so the nurses kept making homemade hot-packs for his feet. He wasn't happy, so tired of his complaints, his nurse called a doctor and got an order for a heating pad.

That thing in the picture is what was delivered to us. The green thing is the pad and that big machine heats the pad, we think. It was totally unlike any heating pad any of us had ever seen, but that's what we got so we were going to make the best of it.

The nurse wheeled it into the room and the patient wanted to know what it was. The nurse answered that it was his heating pad. He suddenly decided that his feet were no longer cold and insisted that the machine be removed from his room.

Although annoyed, we were also relieved because we had no idea how to work the machine and I'm still not sure it was really a heating pad. Has anyone ever seen a heating pad like this or did the store-room make a mistake and send us some strange mystery machine?

Airport Parking Lot

Thanks, Sarah.

Mysterious Black Thingies

This photo is of the food drawer at work. It contains patient food like crackers, tea, instant coffee, etc. In the corner of the drawer are small black granules. What do you suppose it is? Dead bugs? Cockroach droppings? I don't know what it is, but it can't be good.




These photos were not taken on a bad day, but a typical day. I took those photos over a week ago and the little black thingies are still there. I wonder if management has planted it there so that employees will stop eating the patient food?

Ligers And Tigons, Oh My

What do you get when you cross a lion with a tiger? A liger. No, I'm not making that up. I have photos below as proof.

Who knew that lions and tigers even liked each other? They don't get along in the wild. Ligers usually happen only in captivity where the choice of mates is limited, kind of like being a 50 year old woman in L.A. They are the product of a lion father and tiger mother, not to be confused with tigons which have tiger dads and lion mothers. Tigons are smaller and more tiger like than ligers. Sorry, I don't have any pictures of tigons.

This sweet liger is still a baby and growing. He weighs about 1000 pounds and eats about 20 pounds of meat a day.



This photo reminds me of my blog coverdog photo. I'm a little jealous, though. I want a liger too. Murph is tiny compared to this gorgeous creature. I wonder if the neighbors would mind if I adopted a liger?

Thanks, Sarah.

Do I Look Like An Immoral Slut?

Someone sent me the following Email:

"Melissa,

I saw your blog and I found it to be interesting, specially the apple question. I live in Valencia and I am interested in getting to know someone in this valley from scratch. Meaning getting to know a total stranger and comparing interests and so on...As far as the apple question, I would peel it slowly and softly knowing that insdide is a wonderful and sweet experience waiiting to happen.Please resond if you are interested in continuing this conversation with a total stranger...J-J "

I wasn't sure what to do about this Email. My first instinct was to ignore it, especially since he's semi-illiterate and the letter had sexual overtones, but what if he really was a nice person who has gotten to know me through my blog? It's not like men are breaking down my door, maybe I should take a chance. I even have friends who have agreed to be my escorts if I want to meet someone over the Internet.

Later, going through my daily Statcounter check, I found the following search:

"I am married and looking for a simple sexual partner in Santa Clarita California."

I checked the time of the search and it was done a few minutes before the Email was sent. It has to be the same guy. What a creepy scoundrel. I wonder if his wife knows what he is up to? I wish that I could Email his wife directly. Right now I feel like a need to shower and disinfect my computer. What an icky disgusting jerk.

Dog Day Afternoon

Yesterday was a dog day afternoon. That's a good thing. Sarah brought over her four dogs and we all got to hang out together. In the picture below is Heidi. She looks a little scary in the photo with her eyes illuminated as though she is possessed, but she's a sweet girl.

The photo reminds me of a class I once was required to attend as a new nurse. The subject was on the early signs that a patient is dying. The one sign that stopped me in my tracks is if the patient comments on the black dog in the room.

This freaked me out because I imagined that instead of the grim reaper, there is a black dog of death that visits dying people. I'm not especially superstitious, religious or spiritual, so this was not something I enjoyed hearing about. A friend did an Internet search and found that black dogs and death are part of some old stories and mythology. People who are dying may see what they expect to see, whether it is a deity, deceased grandparent or a black dog. I hope that is all that it is. If I'm sick someday and see a black dog in my hospital room, I'm not going to be pleased.



This is the Murph soaking in the pond. The temperature has been cooler lately, which is a very good thing, because I don't ever want to use the air conditioner again. I got my electric bill for last month and it was over $300. That was just for electricity and was for only one month. I don't even want to talk about my record breaking water bill.

I also don't want to talk about my car insurance bill. Getting a new car caused my bill to double.

Driving Adventure

I got my first real opportunity to test the brakes on my car. I was traveling with the flow of traffic, around 75 mph, when I came over the crest of a hill and was greeted by a red river of brake lights. The big SUV in front of me didn't stand a chance of stopping in time and I wasn't too sure about myself.

I hit the brakes hard and could feel the tires gripping the road and the rapid, smooth and quiet deceleration. Worried about the car in my rear view mirror, I eased up on the brakes to give him more time to stop. It's nice to know how little distance I need to stop my car if necessary.

The SUV in front swerved into the emergency lane, fish-tailed some and with tires squealing, came to a stop alongside the car that had been in front of her. Other people weren't as lucky. There were several cars alongside the freeway that had been rear-ended. There were also an unusual number of blonde women standing by the cars. But considering that I live in the land of the tall blondes, maybe it wasn't unexpected that there would be so many.

The cause of all of the little accidents was a big accident, with more blonde girls and women walking around. Too bad I didn't get any pictures.

It may sound strange, but yesterday when the garage door opener fell in my lap, I was more shaken. I'm more afraid of creepy-crawlers than freeway crashes.

Lap Monsters

I was going around the corner when something dropped from the top of the car onto my lap. My first thought was tarantula. My second thought was rat. I couldn't look down until the turn was complete. My heart was racing. So, what scared me so badly? The garage door opener.

Later, at work, I glanced down and saw some creature with beady eyes sitting on my lap. I jumped, but managed not to shriek. What was it this time that scared me? That's it in the photo, a key ring.

It's not easy going through life being afraid of everything.

No Rubbing Or Buffing

I decided to wax my car. This is not something that I enjoy doing, but I want to keep it looking nice.

In the garage, I found a bottle of car polish. It lasts for a year and doesn't require rubbing or buffing. Perfect.




The directions on the back say to apply the product to one section at a time, let dry and then wipe off. The front label says no rubbing and the back label says to wipe. Isn't rubbing and wiping the same thing?

I applied it to my car and had to wipe back and forth to get it off my car. Isn't that the same as buffing?

My car does look nice and I wish that it would stay that way for the next year as stated on the front, but it needs to be re-applied in 30 days according to the back label.

Did the person who wrote the front label ever read the back label?

World's Best Resignation Letter

Dear Mr. Baker,
As an employee of an institution of higher education, I have few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent and annoying harassment of my co-workers and me during our commission of duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few true genetic wastes of our time.

Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I know how to network computer systems, and you were apparently hired to provide amusement to your employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" as it is explained to you for the hundredth time.

You will never understand computers. Something as incredibly simple as binary still gives you too many options. You will also never understand why people hate you, but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will.

You wander around the building all day, shiftlessly seeking fault in others. You have a sharp dressed, useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the blue-green algae that everyone else eats and laughs at. Managers like you are a sad proof of the Dilbert principle.

Seeing as this situation is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced to tender my resignation; however, I have a few parting thoughts:

1. When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation as I have consistently performed my duties and even more. The most you can say to hurt me is, "I prefer not to comment." To keep you honest, I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years, because I know you would be unable to do it on your own.

2. I have all the passwords to every account on the system and I know every password you have used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute, I will publish your "Favorites," which I conveniently saved when you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not viewed favorably by the university administrations.

3. When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your mother's b-day," you neglected to mention that you were going to take nude pictures of yourself in the mirror. Then, like the techno-moron you are, you forgot to erase them. Suffice it to say, I have never seen such odd acts with a ketchup bottle. I assure you that those photos are being kept in safe places pending your authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (And, for once, would you please try to use spellcheck? I hate correcting your mistakes.)

I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody and all of your twisted little repugnant obsessions will become public knowledge. Never f*** with your systems administrator, Mr. Baker! They know what you do with all that free time!
Sincerely

David Blocker
Network Administrator

This is a joke letter, I think. If it's not a joke, the person resigning could go to jail for extortion. That said, wouldn't this be a fun letter to send? Have you ever had a boss deserving of a letter like this? I have.

(Thanks, Sarah)

Serial Stooler

When looking through your patient's chart at the beginning of the shift, it is a very bad omen to see a column of plus signs in the stool column, especially if the word loose is written next to it. If the patient is incontinent and bed-bound, needless to say, things are going to get ugly. If the patient has C diff., the odor will make a vulture heave. That was my patient and there was no aide to help me.

Not if, but when he sneezed while lying on his side during the frequent butt washings, the stool became projectile. It was no longer loose for my shift; it was watery, mucousy and flew. I felt a tiny droplet hit my neck and don't want to think about what got in my hair. Poop also got on my shoes, but that was my fault. I stepped on the dirty diaper I tossed on the floor.

For my shift, there were seven plus signs in the stool column with liquid written next to it. I wonder how the next shift is doing?

Tummy Baring PJ's

What do all of these photos have in common besides featuring gorgeous Victoria Secret models? All of these models are wearing the bottoms pulled down and tops unbuttoned and pulled apart to display their tummies.

Maybe it's just me, but I don't wear jammies that way. Do you?

Biohazard Doggie Bag

After feeding time and before the patient's trays are taken back to the kitchen, I go hunting with a baggie. Like most hunters, I'm after meat. I want my dogs to be happy and what makes dogs happy is meat.

Not that the dogs would care, but I only take food from trays that have been untouched. I don't want my dogs to get cooties.

A typical hunt will yield from one-half to one pound of meat, which makes a nice midnight snack for the boys. On nights that they serve beef stew, arroz con pollo or chicken stir fry, I come home empty-handed. The boys won't eat that crap and neither will the patients. This is food that will make even a hungry dog wince and walk away.


Usually, I bring baggies from home, but yesterday I forgot. The biohazard bag worked just fine and somehow seemed appropriate. Once I collected the meat, I put it in the fridge with the patient's food.

It's funny how a biohazard bag full of something brown can sit in a refridgerator next to trays of food and no one seemed to notice or care.

What An Ass

This is a photo of Mel Gibson showing off his ass, way back before he became one.

Dr. Phil's Personality Test

This is Dr. Phil's personality test. Dr. Phil scored 55; he did this test on Oprah and she got a 38.

1. When do you feel your best?

a) in the morning
b) during the afternoon & and early evening
c) late at night

2. You usually walk...

a) fairly fast, with long steps
b) fairly fast, with little steps
c) less fast head up, looking the world in the face
d) less fast, head down
e) very slowly

3. When talking to people you...

a) stand with your arms folded
b) have your hands clasped
c) have one or both your hands on your hips
d) touch or push the person to whom you are talking
e) play with your ear, touch your chin, or smooth your hair

4. When relaxing, you sit with...

a) your knees bent with your legs neatly side by side
b) your legs crossed
c) your legs stretched out or straight
d) one leg curled under you

5. When something really amuses you, you react with...

a) big appreciated laugh
b) a laugh, but not a loud one
c) a quiet chuckle
d) a sheepish smile

6. When you go to a party or social gathering you...

a) make a loud entrance so everyone notices you
b) make a quiet entrance, looking around for someone you know
c) make the quietest entrance, trying to stay unnoticed

7. You're working very hard, concentrating hard, and you're interrupted...

a) welcome the break
b) feel extremely irritated
c) vary between these two extremes

8. Which of the following colors do you like most?

a) Red or orange
b) black
c) yellow or light blue
d) green
e) dark blue or purple
f) white
g) brown or gray

9. When you are in bed at night, in those last few moments before going to sleep you are...

a) stretched out on your back
b) stretched out face down on your stomach
c) on your side, slightly curled
d) with your head on one arm
e) with your head under the covers

10. You often dream that you are...

a) falling
b) fighting or struggling
c) searching for something or somebody
d) flying or floating
e) you usually have dreamless sleep
f) your dreams are always pleasant

POINTS:

1. (a) 2 (b) 4 (c) 6

2. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 7 (d) 2 (e) 1

3. (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 5 (d) 7 (e) 6

4. (a) 4 (b) 6 (c) 2 (d) 1

5. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 2

6. (a) 6 (b) 4 (c) 2

7. (a) 6 (b) 2 (c) 4

8. (a) 6 (b) 7 (c) 5 (d) 4 (e) 3 (f) 2 (g) 1

9. (a) 7 (b) 6 (c) 4 (d) 2 (e) 1

10. (a) 4 (b) 2 (c) 3 (d) 5 (e) 6 (f) 1

Now add up the total number of points.

OVER 60 POINTS: Others see you as someone they should "handle with care."You're seen as vain, self-centered, and who is extremely dominant. Others may admire you, wishing they could be more like you, but don't always trust you, hesitating to become too deeply involved with you.

51 TO 60 POINTS: Others see you as an exciting, highly volatile, rather impulsive personality; a natural leader, who's quick to make decisions, though not always the right ones. They see you as bold and adventuresome, someone who will try anything once; someone who takes chances and enjoys an adventure. They enjoy being in your company because of the excitement you radiate.

41 TO 50 POINTS: Others see you as fresh, lively, charming, amusing, practical, and always interesting; someone who's constantly in the centerof attention, but sufficiently well-balanced not to let it go to their head. They also see you as kind, considerate, and understanding; someone who'll always cheer them up and help them out.

31 TO 40 POINTS: Others see you as sensible, cautious, careful & practical. They see you as clever, gifted, or talented, but modest. Not a person who makes friends too quickly or easily, but someone who's extremely loyal to friends you do make and who expect the same loyalty in return.Those who really get to know you realize it takes a lot to shake your trust in your friends, but equally that it takes you a long time to get over if that trust is ever broken.

21 TO 30 POINTS: Your friends see you as painstaking and fussy. They see you as very cautious, extremely careful, a slow and steady plodder. It would really surprise them if you ever did something impulsively or on the spur of the moment, expecting you to examine everything carefully from every angle and then, usually decide against it. They think this reaction is caused partly by your careful nature.

UNDER 21 POINTS: People think you are shy, nervous, and indecisive, someone who needs looking after, who always wants someone else to make the decisions & who doesn't want to get involved with anyone or anything! Theysee you as a worrier who always sees problems that don't exist. Some peoplethink you're boring. Only those who know you well know that you aren't.

I'm a 40. What are you?

Woman Driver Of The Year Awards

WOMAN DRIVERS OF THE YEAR

10th PLACE GOES TO


9th PLACE GOES TO

8th PLACE GOES TO

7th PLACE GOES TO

6th PLACE GOES TO

5th PLACE GOES TO

4th PLACE GOES TO

3rd PLACE GOES TO

FIRST PLACE GOES TO THE WOMAN WEARING HER HELMET ON BACKWARDS.

Oh, second place seems to be missing. I must have deleted it by accident. Well, what do you expect from me? I'm both a woman and blonde.

Medical Music

Looking through some rarely used drawers at work, I found some interesting things. In the drawer with the lubricants, there is a cassette of Man of LeMancha. In another drawer with rubber hammers, is a Don Ho cassette. We don't even have a cassette player, so these must be left-overs from an earlier era.

It does seem kind of strange, though. I'm wondering if someone decided that Man of LeMancha is best for getting lubricated and Don Ho is best for getting banged (with a rubber hammer).

There was also a tuning fork in a drawer. Does anyone have any idea what that would be used for? The last time I checked, we didn't have a piano on the floor.

Priceless Husband

Jack wakes up with a huge hangover after attending his company's Christmas Party. Jack is not normally a drinker, but the drinks didn't taste like alcohol at all. He didn't even remember how he got home from the party. As bad as he was feeling, he wondered if he did something wrong.

Jack had to force himself to open his eyes, and the first thing he sees is a couple of aspirins next to a glass of water on the side table. And, next to them, a single red rose! Jack sits up and sees his clothing in front of him, all clean and pressed. He looks around the room and sees that it is in perfect order, spotlessly clean. So is the rest of the house.

He takes the aspirins, cringes when he sees a huge black eye staring back at him in the bathroom mirror. Then he notices a note hanging on the corner of the mirror written in red with little hearts on it and a kiss mark from his wife in lipstick, "Honey, breakfast is on the stove. I left early to go get groceries to make you your favorite dinner tonight. love you darling! Love, Jillian. "

He stumbles to the kitchen and sure enough, there is hot breakfast, steaming hot coffee, and the morning newspaper. His son is also at the table, eating.

Jack asks, "Son... what happened last night?"

"Well, you came home after 3 A.M., drunk and out of your mind. You fell over the coffee table and broke it, and then you puked in the hallway, and got that black eye when you ran into the door."

Confused he asked his son, "So, why is everything in such perfect order, so clean, I have a rose, and breakfast is on the table waiting for me?"

His son replies, "Oh THAT!... Mom dragged you to the bedroom, and when she tried to take your pants off, you screamed, "Leave me alone, lady, I'm married!"

Broken Coffee Table $139.00
Hot Breakfast $4.20
Two Aspirins: $0.38
Saying the right thing, at the right time . Priceless

You Want Me To Go Where For Surgery?

Working in a hands-on job like nursing, I never thought it possible for off-shore providers to provide nursing services. After all, people can't start their own IVs with instructions over the phone or a computer. How wrong I was. Some insurance companies are now encouraging people to go to India for elective surgery.

The insurance companies want this because the savings are unbelievable. Doctors and nurses in India earn only a tiny fraction of what they earn here, so the hospitalization costs are much less. American hospitals aren't happy about this. It's not possible to compete with Indian hospitals because no American nurse or doctor will work for third world wages. Since American hospitals can't be squeezed for any more blood, the solution is to send patients to India for surgery.

The hospitals are said to be first rate, but really, if you needed to have your gallbladder removed, would you want to get on a plane to India?

So far, no one is being forced to go to India for treatment. The incentives are financial, such as no co-pays or getting a share of the savings.

How would you feel about traveling to India for surgery?