Saturday, June 17, 2017

Leave Already

Three evil people were recently very happy.

They were hired together 25 years ago.  Combined with their advanced age, they have reached a magical situation only possible under the old retirement plan:  They can retire.  Leave.  Collect money for not working.

This is not the retirement plan for me and others hired within the last two decades.  Actually, we have no retirement plan.

These people include a supervisor, a woman from my work area, and a secretary who is bonkers.  They are all nasty, lazy people who need to leave.

I understand that they are unemployable outside this Snake Pit.

But I am going to remind them whenever they open their mouths against me that they don't need to be here anymore.  They are working when they could be sitting at home, not aggravating me, and still collecting a check for it.


Friday, June 16, 2017

Giving a Little Extra

A patient attacked a staff member on a ward I was covering.

I let the male staff perform the physical break up of the altercation.

The nurse came to me with the doctor's stat order:  two milligrams of lorazepam (Ativan) and 5 milligrams of haloperidol (Haldol).

"IM?" I asked hopefully.  (Injections.)

"No, PO," he sighed.  (Oral.)

That's not enough to calm down an agitated big guy who has already thrown punches.

I grabbed the lorazepam and asked where they keep their extra Haldol tablets.

"Give liquid Haldol in juice," he said.  "And make it a Nursing Dose."

I smiled.  Yes, we do this.


Thursday, June 15, 2017

Glad to be away from Psycho Nurse

My assignment one day was to check charts on the ward where Nurse Fortune was gracing her presence.  I survived.  I’m proud.  I did have flashbacks to our prior horrible years, where I felt hostage to her wrath.



She watched me in the chart room the entire time.  Non-stop complaining on her end.



Politics:  “Your President” she kept stating, as if I alone decide on the president of the country and people who complain don’t have him as president.

Work:  “I know so much about all these patients, it makes me sick.  Nobody else knows what they are doing.”



Family:  “How can they say that my son is a behavioral problem?  Oh, he yells and talks back.  He fights.  He doesn’t listen.  He doesn’t do the work.  Not my son.  I mean, where would he learn that behavior?  Not from me.  If that’s what he does in school, which I don’t believe, then he learned it at school so they should take a serious look at themselves.”




I feel bad for any child of hers.  She’s a jerk.  She’s the only one who doesn’t see her behavior and attitude reflected in her child.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Moving?

I am moving out of my current spot and getting a desk elsewhere in the building, according to Nurse Sally.  She seems nice.

I have endured three years in my current spot.  Three seems to be my limit for anything.

What she is calling a desk is one table in a large hallway.  Other people occupy other tables.  "My desk" is currently a repository of papers, binders, and boxes.

Part of the problem is that this table is adjacent to the nursing staffing people.  It will be too easy for them to be scrambling for coverage and find their solution in Nurse Enid, "who is just sitting there, doing nothing."  Unlike the other office nurses, I'm classified as a floor nurse.

Another issue is that I keep all of my current duties, plus extra as added by Nurse Sally.  Not sure when I get to sit at my new table/desk, which is nowhere near where I need to be to schedule appointments, procedures, and to do rounds with doctors.

The other issue is that someone, such as Nurse Fortune, could find out, flip out, claiming I'm getting a cushy deal, and file a complaint with our union.  Even though Nurse Sally seems nice, she is powerless against Nurse Fortune and the union.

I did some paperwork from the charts as requested.  When I handed it to Nurse Sally, she said to give it to her secretary.  Her secretary occupies one of the tables near my new table.

The secretary glared at me when I handed her the papers.  (I had the foresight and experience to make copies first.)  "Listen," she started, "Don't go thinking that you are going to make more work for me."

"Sally told to research these issues and fill out these forms and give them to you," I explained.  "That was my assignment."

"Well," she huffed, "You could have said 'no'."

"Actually, I'm not in a position to refuse an assignment," I tried.

"So because you do whatever anyone tells you, now I have more work?" she sneered.  "Does that seem right to you?"

This is a hopeless cycle everywhere in this hospital.

"Take your own advice and refuse to do it," I told the secretary.

"I didn't ask you to tell me what to do, thank you very much," she snapped.  "Let's get that straight right now.  You don't tell me what to do.  You don't give me work.  You are not my supervisor.  Don't even speak to me.  Got it?"

I left and returned to my previous (or current?) work area.  There, I realized that no provisions were made for my addition to that department.  The "desk" I used varied from day to day and was a table or counter where I could spread out papers to work on them.  My supervisor and the other employees had cabinets dedicated to their personal stuff, while she told me that I could not keep anything in the office, including pens I needed to write with.

If people ask, I'll tell them that there was not enough work in my current department to justify two nurses, so I was reassigned.

I will not allow myself to get excited about this move because it may not happen.



Tuesday, June 13, 2017

That's Okay

I had to cover a unit, which involved the narc count.  The process was a lot more involved than I remembered.

"Oh, someone lost some pills," the nurse explained.

"Who?" I asked.

She smiled.  There was more than one nurse and they were all favored children.

"If you or I did that, we'd be sitting in jail right now," I said.

The other nurse shook her head in agreement.


Monday, June 12, 2017

Drawing a Line

The nurse whose office I sometimes cover joined a meeting, late, and plopped herself down next to me.

In front of me was only a notebook, upon which I was fervidly writing my grocery list.

This nurse spread her pile of papers into my space and onto my notebook, over my hand and pen.  This was no accident.

What was the proper response?  She was pushing me and I had to push back.

I placed my arm on the table and mushed her papers back into her area.

This startled her, but she didn't put the papers back onto me and my area.


Sunday, June 11, 2017

Another Hat I Wear

I don't understand the fixation on my wearing a hat.

I am not the only person who wears a hat.  There is nothing unusual about my hat.  I wear a warm hat in the cold and a hat with a brim when it's sunny.

"There you are in your hat!" one of the orderlies cooed in the parking lot.

I stared at her.  For the record, she is not well-balanced.

"Oh!  That's right.  You said there's a reason why you wear it."  She paused, trying to think.  "To protect your heart!" she declared.

"My eyes!" I corrected her.

"Your eyes?" she said, confused.  "How would a hat protect your eyes?  And what would your eyes need protection from?"

"The sun," I answered.

Still confused.  "But we need the sun," she tried.  "That can't be why you would wear a hat."

"Sure it is," I insisted.  "How could a hat protect someone's heart?"

"How would I know?" she answered.  "You're the one who is wearing the hat."