IF...

You are going to come to the ED for some nebulous complaint, AND you are going to tell people that you, yourself, are a physician...

it behooves you to at least know A LITTLE something about medicine and such.

For example:
- a blood glucose of 137 mg/dL is NOT "abysmal."
- a pulse rate of 96 is NOT tachycardia.
- that nice, even, regular wave on the monitor and on the EKG is NOT "a tachydisrhythmia."

If you're going to pretend to be a medical professional, it might help to actually know some stuff. Because we actually do know some stuff, and now we just think you're weird.

P.S. Hi Stacy!
P.P.S. This post wasn't about you. I was just saying Hi!

People are kind of inconsiderate

You'd think I'd be aware of this by now.

Our ED has only seven rooms with walls; the rest are separated by curtains. This isn't the best for privacy. Especially when you're changing a colostomy bag.

This poor young man came in with a possible infection to his new stoma. There was some gross drainage, in addition to the very stinky poop that was coming out of it. His mother had gotten the wrong colostomy bags by mistake, so it was ill-fitting and leaking on his skin and clothing. He was miserable, feverish, and very upset about the odor emanating from him.

I went in with a basin, cleaning supplies, gown, and a new stoma dressing/kit and tried to fix him up, a process taking considerable time and which released a lot of stink. But we kept at it, and eventually he was clean and feeling better, no thanks to the people next door.

The entire time we were getting cleaned up, all this poor kid could hear were comments like "Dang, something smells like ass in here...why don't they spray some spray around here, this shit is NASTY! This shit gonna make me puke! You got any perfume, cause some shit up and DIED!"

I left the area to dump all the soiled material in the dirty utility room, and they all yelled after me, "Miss! What stinks? Can't you clean up this stink?!? Get some spray! This shit stinks!" I hushed them, and said, "It will be better in a minute, please, keep your voices down."

The poor kid with the stoma was just about in tears. He kept apologizing. I told him he wasn't the one who needed to apologize, that ER's are full of bad smells, and that's just the way it goes. I also told him that he'd learn how to deal with his stoma, and soon it wouldn't be so bad. My heart was just about breaking for him.

I know the people next door didn't know what was going on, but seriously. It's a hospital. Sickness smells bad. Deal with it.

Deeeeeep breath...

My dreaded statistics course is done. I finished my final project (Tuberculosis stats, anyone?) and am now waiting for my final grade. Honestly, I don't care what it is as long as I pass. I'm just so relieved that this is over.

I talked myself out of doubling up classes for this semester. I'm only taking one: Medical Ethics. I can see now that I have room to raise my head and look around. And now I'm seeing all the crap I haven't done for the last three months. Like laundry, and putting up some shelves in the living room.

Here I come!!!

They're Everywhere!

Self-important jerks, that is.

Look, dude. I know you want your daughter's amoxicillin, but yelling "IT'S JUST AMOXICILLIN! Why can't you do it NOW" at the poor lady behind the pharmacy counter is not going to get it to you faster. Does it even occur to you that there are people ahead of you who are calmly waiting to get their prescriptions filled and who are not attempting to jump the line just because they think THEIR prescriptions should be filled faster?

Also, just because the ED waiting room only has about six people in it does not mean that it's not a crazyevening in the actual emergency room. Rolling your eyes at me and saying, "You call THIS busy?" is not going to endear you to me, either.

The writing's on the wall...

When the hospital CEO's bonus was enough to hire 12 full-time nurses for one year, you know what's more important to the hospital.

Have you ever fantasized about being beaten up by a girl?

You're known for starting trouble. But you play it cool. Besides, no one can resist your sharp eyes and quick wit. *They* eat from the palm of your hand. Though you have weaknesses, which may have deadly consequences, you, are resurrected, as if the gods themselves breathed immortality into you. Take the What Pulp Fiction Character Are You? quiz.

Repeal Proposition 8

Watch the video below, and please consider signing the petition here:



"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

Nurse = Tropical Fish

Clipboard Doctor is talking to Clipboard Nurse about the planned changes in the department (we're supposed to be going "paperless" soon...ho ho ho hee hee hee yeah right):

Doc: Well, this nurse's station will have to be moved down there...
Nurse: I agree, they must be closer to their patients, but with the current bed assignment for this area, the nurse will still be unable to see some of her patients.
Doc: So, rearrange the assignment.
Nurse: (gives the doctor a knowing look) I'm sure THAT will go over like a ton of bricks.
Doc: I own a saltwater fish tank. When you put in a new fish, you have to rearrange all the rocks and plants and things, or else the other fish get territorial. Nurses are just the same way. See?
Nurse: (nods like a moron)

What I Have Learned

Here are the things I've learned from having my computer down for a week now.

1) I can really do a lot of things on the Internet from my phone (I have a Treo 680). Email, Facebook, even blogging. But it's not nearly as fun.

2) BOY is the Internet a huge timewaster. What the heck did I do before I had all this crap at my fingertips? I've gotten a lot of knitting done in the meantime.

3) Out of sight is out of mind. I have tons of schoolwork due, but oh well, don't have a computer, so...can't do it. (This isn't true, I have DR's computer to use, but I don't have little reminders posted all over on his computer about due dates and websites and projects, so...)

4) Thank goodness for Bloglines. It's hard to read blog posts on my Treo, and I am dreading having to re-do all my settings and bookmarks and such. But with Bloglines, I don't have to worry about it when it comes to my favorite blogs!

5) When the Apocalypse comes, we're all screwed. Whatever will we all do without our little screens to stare at all the time? Stare at each other? Heaven forfend! (DR and I are truly a modern couple. We've been known to email each other from opposite ends of the couch.)

6) Now that we're so computer dependent, backing up all your crap is SO important. I managed to get most of the important stuff off my computer, but it's the little things that are going to be causing me to say "AAAAAARRRGH!!!!" for weeks to come. My settings, many email addresses, the different email boxes I have set up, my bookmarks, my little sticky notes, the unmixed Garage Band surf tracks I was working on, my recipes, some pictures...every day I think of something else I will have to redo when the computer finally comes home with its shiny new brain.

Part of me is *this* close to ditching it all and becoming a Luddite, complete with gas lamps and homespun clothing and a goat. Fortunately for the gadget-loving part, the Luddite part is REALLY small.

What's really sad is that every few hours I remember that my computer is gone, and the first thing that pops into my head is: I miss my friend. That's really pathetic.

It Died.

My computer, that is. The hard drive is down, and the whole shebang has been sent out for repairs. Which makes blogging and schoolwork very difficult. I'm amazed at how attached we get to our dumb machines. I'm using DR's computer right now, and all his settings are different, and the screen is smaller, and it's just not the same.

I have a couple of posts saved on my Treo, so I'll try to get them up. In the meantime, I'm in mourning.

Thanks, Nurse Jo!

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Enjoy the Superbowl...

...and the festering, purulent infection you're going to have because you refused to stay in the hospital after slicing open your wrist when a sheet of glass fell on it.

Dude, you are a contractor. Your worksite was filthy--your coworkers attested to it. You cut up your wrist so bad that you can't move your thumb. There was a nice little piece of white tendon sticking out of the cut. The surgeon told you he wouldn't be able to operate for a few days--because he wants to make sure you don't have an infection in there. Which means you need to stay in the hospital so we can give you IV antibiotics and make sure you don't have an infection in there. "I'll keep it clean and come back on Monday!" is not a good option. You use your hands for a living. You messed up your dominant hand.

Signing out AMA so you can watch the Superbowl with your buddies? Probably not the smartest thing ever.