Tricks For Improving Morale

At work, I came across a book that had been given to all of the managers. It was about building morale and letting employees know how much they are appreciated. I don't think any of our managers have ever read it.

It listed, literally, hundreds of ways to increase morale. Many of the suggestions were, well, interesting. Here are my favorites:

1) Instead of casual Friday, have dress up Fridays. Everyone comes to work in formal wear.

(I actually love this idea since dressing up is my idea of fun, but I'm not sure which of my gowns would work best on the floor. Should I wear the silk, low-cut white gown with the train that would sop up all of the nasty stuff on the floor? Or, perhaps the tight, beaded gown that requires a good girdle would be a better choice for changing patient's adult diapers and diarrhea soaked linens. The red taffeta ball gown, that I can barely breathe in, might also be fun to work in. And, don't get me started on the fun shoes that these outfits would require.)

2) Have a bring your pet to work day.

( Again, I love this idea since it makes me so sad to leave my three dogs at home. But, do the MBA's who run this place know that the business they run is in the business of health care, as opposed to say, manufacturing widgets? I'm fairly certain that it is against the law to have ordinary dogs and cats wandering around in hospitals and medical clinics. )

3) Reward employees with a "give your coworkers the shaft" day. The two lucky winners would have lunch in an elevator. There would be a fancy table set with linen, china and gourmet food. A violinist (I am not making this up) would serenade them during lunch.

(Um, I'm quite certain that eating lunch in an elevator would be something less than pleasurable for me. I'm claustrophobic. In fact, if you wished to punish me, that would do the trick.)

4) Have a bad hair day contest. Everyone recreates their worst hair day and a prize is given to the winner.

( This would be fun, but my bad hair days involve hair coloring mishaps. I'm not dying my hair charcoal gray or orange for anyone.)

I can't imagine why none of the managers have borrowed any of the fun ideas from this book. The only possible explanation is that they have never read it.

I Want To Marry A Rich Man

Work has always been a pain in the butt, but now it is becoming even more so. Who thought that was possible? With computerized charting, administration can now monitor our charting in progress. Before, they had to come to the floor to see the charting after we were done. There was time to make it nice and pretty before anyone could see it.

Now, they can see in real time how the charting is progressing. We are required to make rounds on our patients every hour and chart what we saw and did. It is usually possible to do the hourly rounding, which, if the patient is fine, takes about thirty seconds. But, to log onto the computer in each room and record the round takes two or three minutes. Multiply that by five patients and that is a ten or fifteen minute chunk out of every hour.

To someone sitting at their desk in an ivory tower with all the time in the world, that may not sound like a big deal, but to nurses on the floor, that time makes the difference between patients getting their needs met now as opposed to later. For patients, every minute of delay in getting what they want is an eternity. And, they let us know it.

I usually try to catch up on my charting about halfway through the shift when it usually quiets down a little. Charting on all of the patients at once on one computer is the most time-efficient way to chart. It takes about ten minutes every four hours to chart as opposed to ten or fifteen minutes every hour. So far, management has left me alone. Perhaps, they are checking my charting after the halfway mark. But, just knowing management is looking at our charting in progress is stressing me out.

The nurses are starting to quit. We hate the new hospital, the cuts in support staff that increase our work load and the micro-managing. The nurses have been told that if they don't like it, they know where the door is. More nurses are going through that door.

Sound Explanation

Over the past few years, my computer has tormented me with odd sounds. First, it was a cat meowing. I practically tore my kitchen apart looking for some poor, trapped kitty. Later, it was some guy yelling, "MOM." Sometimes it was people laughing or sighing. On New Years they shouted, "Happy New Year." On Halloween, it was "Happy Halloween." There were dozens of different sounds. The sounds came at random times. I could be lying in bed and hear my computer taunting me.

I figured it was either a virus or some hacker was picking on me. I complained about it on my Blog, but no one had ever heard of such a thing. Lindsay was sure it was my computer reacting to something I was doing. It wasn't until one evening we were just watching TV and heard the sounds that he went into action.

He believed it was AOL. That made no sense to me. Why would AOL do that to a paying customer? And why just me? No one else had this problem.

Lindsay began an instant message dialog with an AOL tech. Which, by the way is a great way to communicate with them. There are no issues with trying to understand each other's accents.

It turned out that AOL was behind the sounds. Someone on my buddy list had been using those sounds. Every time they connected with AOL, my computer let me know with whatever weird sound AOL offered at the time.

Lindsay changed some settings on my computer and I thinned my buddy list. The sounds have stopped. Now, I kind of miss them.

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008)

This is a commercial, sort of, but it's so cute, I can't resist sharing. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Blonde Aura

Most patients and their families are nice. I rarely mention them because, let's be honest, what's the entertainment value in that? It's the evil people who are the most fun to talk about.

For example, there was a jerk last week who, when I answered his call light, said that I wasn't fit to wipe his butt. We had never met before. He was on a bedpan, however, and needed someone to wipe him. Not that I wanted to wipe his butt, but it irritated me that he didn't want me.

I didn't need to ask what was wrong with me, he told me. It was because I'm blonde. He said that he hates blondes because they are all idiots. I joke about that, but he meant it. He said that it has something to do with the "chlorine" that blondes soak their head in. It leaches into their brains.

In a soft voice, I sweetly asked him to look at me closely. I then asked him what color he thought my hair really was. After a second, he said that I was a natural blonde. I told him that he was correct. He then began apologizing, which I graciously accepted. He even let me wash his ass. What a great guy he turned out to be.

Of course, I saw no reason to tell the idiot that no one my age has natural hair my shade of blonde. I'm blonde naturally, but my hair is dirty blonde with white streaks. It takes hair color to make me presentable.

It is funny, though, that the idiot thinks that blondes soak their heads in chlorine. That just turns my hair green.

Anyway, back to the subject of nice patients, I usually get compliments on a daily basis. Most people like to try to figure out which actress I look like. (Mostly, Darryl Hanna , occasionally, Diane Keaton) But I got a complement the other day that was totally new. The patient told me that I had a strong energy force. He raved about my aura and when I left, told me what an honor it was to have met me. All because of my energy force.

If he hadn't been an old, dying man with his wife at bedside, I would have thought that he was coming on to me. I'm not sure if he was getting too much morphine or if he can really detect energy forces. What do you think?

Lust For Money

Why oh why does solicitation have to be illegal? At work, my heart has been racing lately because of my unrequited desire to solicit. On my off hours, I think about it and discuss it with my lawyer friends. We are all salivating, but know of no way to do what we desperately want to do.

There have been two patients who are the victims of egregious malpractice. One patient had a led amputated due to a misdiagnosis by a nurse practitioner in one of our clinics. I can't go into the details, but I have seen the smoking gun document. It is a once in a lifetime lawsuit and as bad as I feel for the patient, I also feel bad that I can't get a cut of the action. Does that sound callous? Yes, it is. People don't hate lawyers for no good reason.

The other case involved another hospital, a trauma center that stabilized her before sending her to us. They operated on the wrong hip and failed to properly anesthetize her. Although paralyzed by the anesthesia, she was wide awake and unable to let let them know that she could feel them drilling in her hip, the wrong one.

I know a great law firm that would do these cases justice and pay me a referral fee. But I can't risk my license, either my law license or RN license, for money. It is so hard sometimes to do the right thing, especially when there is so much money involved. I'm relieved that the patients have been discharged, so that I no longer have to white-knuckle it.

Mystery Destination

I agreed to go on a vacation without any idea where it was going to be. I have a week off in October and we had talked about possibly going on a cruise then. There was a cruise around New Zealand that sounded particularly nice, but although the cruise was cheap, the airfare was ridiculous. A cruise up the East coast into Canada also sounded good, but although not as insane as flying to New Zealand, it was still expensive to get there.

Lindsay mentioned something about going to Mexico since we live where the ship leaves from. That saves a ton of money, but the problem is that the trip is to Mexico. I won't get off the ship if it goes to Mexico. I have this phobia thing about third world countries.

Anyway, Lindsay left a message on my answering machine saying that the cost of the cruise had come down in price and did I want to go. I was in a hurry to get to work when I got the message, so I quickly just said okay.

While driving to work, it occurred to me that I had no idea which cruise Lindsay was referring to. New Zealand was too much to hope for, but New England was a possibility. When I got the chance, I called Lindsay and asked, as casually as possible, what ports the ship was going to visit. That would tell me what I needed to know without admitting I had no idea what I had agreed to.

He answered San Diego, Catalina and Ensenada. Oh well. I'll live. San Diego is okay even though I have been there only like a hundred times before. It will be my first time to Catalina, so that will be fun. And as for Mexico, they still have lots of onboard entertainment for those who refuse to get off the boat. I won't be the only one.

Unclear On The Concept

Every once in a while, someone leaves a surprise on the carpet. This shouldn't happen. There is a doggy door and they all know how to use it, but still, about once a week, poo is left on the carpet.

I'm tired of shampooing the carpet every week, so I decided to put down some plastic lined paper pads that come pre-scented in dog urine to encourage dogs to go on the pad instead of the floor. (I do not want to know how they get the scent on the pads.)

Now, I'm finding two or three poo piles a day plus pee ponds and it is still on the carpet. The pads seem to have delivered the message that it is fine to do their business in the house, but for whatever reason, the dogs don't want to get the pads dirty. Now, there are sheets of plastic across the carpet. The ball is now in the dogs' court. We'll see what they do next.