Can I get a little help?

I was on an assignment in a county hospital in a ghetto. I didn't mind the patient clientele, it was the staff. They pretty much hated each other. I just stayed out of it, kept my mouth shut and did my job. Until this happened.



First of all one night someone decided to pitch a fit and say it wasn't fair that I got to keep my same patients all shift. I did 12 hour shifts and most of them did 8 hours. Usually I would get the patients the evening shift didn't want, so I didn't see the problem in their eyes, as I usually had a crappy load. They were insistent on changing every patient I had just had the previous 4 hours. That is when I learned the supervisor's number and wrote it on the back of my badge. I of course kept my same patient's that night as that was the deal when I, or any other traveler was hired.



On one particular night around 01:00 I had a patient who complained of chest pain. On a typical floor, when a patient does this, there are a list of things we can be doing until the MD arrives. So I assessed him, called telemetry from his room, to see if his rhythm had changed. They said they thought there might be some ST changes, so I stuck my head out the door and said to the staff who was all sitting down charting, "I have a chest pain here with possible ST changes, can I get some help and will someone please call the doc?"



I returned to the patient, slapped some oxygen on him and asked specific questions about his pain. I took his blood pressure and then noticed no one was coming in the room. I stick my head out again "Helloooo, I really could use some help in here ya'll" and go back to the patient.



He did not have a morphine order, but did have nitro sub lingual and his blood pressure was fairly high, so I went to the pyxis to get it. I passed the nurses and CNAs who have yet to move. "What's the deal here? I have a chest painer and I need some of ya'll in the damn room!"



I placed the nitro under the man's tongue and checked the clock as you have to wait 5 minutes and retake the BP. The "charge nurse" rolled an EKG machine in the room while I flipped through he chart to see who I was supposed to call. I asked her to do the EKG please and she said, "He looks OK. I'm busy". I was livid. "Busy doing what? Freaking charting?!" She leaves the room.



I walked out of the room and got the CNA assigned to him, who was sitting at the desk chatting. "You. Get in there and get his blood pressure every 5 minutes and write it down!" She went into his room, while I went to get supplies I needed to draw some tubes of blood. The nitro had not helped so I gave another after she told me his latest BP. She tried to leave the room and I told her to stay put. I called the MD, explained my findings and he was on the way. I then called the tele monitor tech back to see if there were any changes and to call the patients room if there were. All the while I am working my ass off AND trying to keep the patient calm.



I then called the supervisor and asked if she could personally come help me with a chest painer as I couldn't get any of the staff in the damn room. I went to drawing the blood, gave the 3rd nitro and as I went to find a stat bag, I saw the supervisor and 2 other nurses coming down the hall. As soon as they saw her coming to the room, they all just jumped up, acting oblivious that anything was going on. The supervisor knew better.



When they got in the room, she sent the other lazy, good-for-nothing nurses from my floor out of the room mumbling something about team work and ethics. The MD shows up, decides the patient is having an MI and we get him to the unit. I went with to give the receiving nurse report and finish up the paperwork.



Meanwhile the supe made the rest of my nurses check on my patients and give the meds that were due during that time. She sat at the desk and watched them work, giving them suggestions of what else they could do for me. When I got back my charts were 24 hour checked, MARs were checked, and all due meds were given and my patients were turned and fluffed. I thanked the supervisor to which she says to call if anything like this ever happened again. I report it is always like this, only this time I REALLY needed help.



I stayed after that shift to inform their manager of the events of the night. I heard later by an LPN who was not there that night that they all got in trouble, or got written up, or a warning , or whatever their steps of discipline were there. I didn't speak to those particular ones the rest of my assignment unless I had to and didn't DARE volunteer to help them as I always had before. I mean unless a patient really needed something. If an IV was beeping I would go press silence and instead of just going to hang a new bag I would tell the nurse that such and such needed more fluids, etc.



I was glad to be out of that negative atmosphere when my assignment ended. Management had the audacity to ask me to sign on for another. I explained in great detail with many examples why I wouldn't and would also be letting my company know about this joy-less time spent on that floor with those awful people.

Astounding Discovery

So after work one morning a fellow traveler and I went out for drinks as we claimed we both had a night from hell. She worked on a different floor than I did and we were trading stories. Hers topped all mine in a awful way.



She was crazy busy and went running into the dirty utility room to get rid of a used bag of transfused blood. She tripped over a bucket trying to find the bio hazard bin. She got rid of her used PRBCs bag and on the way out she looked closer at the bucket she tripped all over. Inside was a dead baby! She stared at it not believing her eyes. There was no blanket, nothing. Just the infant and the bucket.



She left the room to immediately find the charge nurse to inform her of her findings. It wasn't like she was on a maternity ward, it was medical-surgical floor. Apparently a mother had given birth to a stillborn. Most of the time when this happens they do not place the grieving mother on the same floor with the other new moms and babies. They go to a med-surg floor, so they don't have to be faced with others' joys as she suffers her loss. After this particular mother went to her med-surg room, she wanted to hold her baby one last time. When she was finished the nurse put the baby in a bucket in the dirty utility room instead of finding out where she should have carried it.



When that nurse was confronted, she said she just put it there "for a moment" as she was too busy to take it to the morgue, or call someone to take it to the morgue. All she had to do was hand it off to the charge nurse to properly take care of. What the hell was she thinking? My fellow traveler said she got sick to her stomach once she realized what was in that bucket. Then she was enraged. How could someone treat a lifeless infant with such disrespect?

The Almost Donor

He was only 31 years old. Massive bleed from an aneurysm. He was brain dead and on life support. His driver's license reports he is an organ donor. He was very close to his mother. She agreed with his previous decision to donate his organs. His care and the bills were transferred over to the transplant service.

Because of the "rules", the coordinator had to attempt to contact the father. Since the patient was not married, the decision making goes to the parents. The parents had been divorced for a long time. For 24 hours, he lay on life support, being prepared and matched and what not, to give all viable organs. He was a very healthy, and not to mention handsome young man. He was being prepared to give life to potentially several people in need. For 24 hours, all phone calls to his father were not returned.

I became interested as soon as I heard there was a potential donor in the unit, which was the other side of what completed a large circle of our floor. I had never been privy to what all goes on when there is a potential organ donor. I didn't realize that they stop charging his insurance and the bills are then passed to the transplant service, or something like that. I didn't realize that people in need of organs can be called and prepped several times before they actually get their transplant, only to be denied for not being the better match, or because they have a cold.

I asked if I could watch the operation when they harvest the organs and was very excited when I was told it would be no problem. It was to happen early one morning right after my shift would end. I thought it would be extremely interesting. During my nights in a row worked, I visited his bedside often. It seemed so strange that he was in that bed, looking so flawless. (minus the ET tube and various IV drips and such). He was brain dead, but about to give the greatest gift to many. I would stare at him and contemplate whether he was watching from just above us, or if he was somehow still in that body, somehow aware of what was going on, or where exactly he was; where his soul was.

Ok back to the dad part. 12 hours before THE DAY, the father finally calls, enraged and adamant, and speaks to the coordinator. He is totally against the organ donation and wants only an autopsy instead. Now, this "father" for reasons unknown to us, had not been in touch with his son for 15 years. 15 YEARS!!! And he gets to stop the process just like that. Never mind the patient's wishes. Never mind the paperwork he signed years before. Nothing the coordinator, the patient's mother, or doctors could say to make this man change his mind. And just like that, it was called off. All those people who had been notified they would possibly be getting new organs, being worked up, being hopeful, relieved, excited--dashed just like that. I couldn't understand how this was fair. The patient wanted to be a donor. His mother knew it. He hadn't spoken or seen his father in 15 years. I still don't understand how and why that father got to even have a say in the deal. Apparently that is how it worked in that state. It just didn't seem fair!

The mother did not want to be there when they took him off life support, she had already said her good-byes and was very upset about the whole ordeal. I had finished up with my own patients on the floor and went to the unit to see if it was really true--if they were really going to just unplug the machines. The atmosphere in the unit that night was stale. The staff was quiet. Not the usual chatting or clowning, and buzzing around. You could feel the disappointment. But what got me personally was when they unhooked everything. He didn't die immediately. I mean it was within a matter of minutes. I don't know what I was expecting. They just sort of did it and then went back to their other patients and paperwork. There lay this handsome young man. Alone. No attempts to breathe and I watched as the oxygen saturation dropped and the monitor worked its way to a flat line. Guess they were really busy, or immune, as they went back to their work, seemingly going with the motions. Guess I was still so new to such. I stayed by his bed and watched him until he was gone, my hand lightly placed on top of his.

What a waste. What a tragedy to be taken so young and quickly due to an unknown flaw in the vessels of his brain. And then how horrible that his wishes weren't carried out. What a disappointment this must have felt like for all those preparing to receive a shot at a longer life.

I made out my living will, told my parents about it and swear to this day I will haunt them if they don't do as I say.

LIVE LIFE! THEN GIVE LIFE!

Bug Eyed Crazy

I was working at a hospital that was still on 8 hour shifts. They were trying to make the transition to 12s, with a few of their own doing 12s. As a traveler I got to choose, of course I chose 12s. A lot of times for the first 4 hours I would be the resource nurse. Resources generally would do admissions and hand them off to the RN who was getting them, or do whatever to help out, change IVs that were outdated, give meds for a nurse that was backed up, go to codes, etc.

I was asked to go to a certain floor to draw blood from a patient for a nurse who was behind. The patient had a PICC line. I thought it was a little odd as it only takes less than 4 minutes to perform this task, but whatever. I went. As I was about to go in the room, the patient's nurse tells me everything I need was in the room. OK...

"Anything else I should know?", I asked.

"No".

So I go in and introduce myself and say I am helping her nurse out by drawing some blood from the PICC line. We just did some quick idle chit chat as I got to work on this simple task. I was having trouble getting blood to come out, so I unhooked the syringe, removed the port, and screwed the syringe directly into her line to see if I could get better results this way. I moved her arm to the side a little more and sure enough, I struck blood. I filled the waste syringe, unscrewed it and went to screw in the new syringe that would be the sample. There was no clamp on her line, so a drop of blood fell onto her arm. That's when she went all crazy on me.

Her eyes started bugging out and she starts yelling "Ahhh Ahhhh what you doin'?"

Trying to steady her jerking arm and screw the syringe in completely I say I am just getting some blood from your line, I am sorry some dripped on you, but I will clean it off.

She's like "Oh naw! You don't know what you are doing. Nobody else does it that way. You not supposed to take that thing off. You're gettin' blood all over me, looks like a murder scene on my arm!"

I am trying to explain that sometimes you can get a better pull on the blood by removing the port and I would be replacing it with a new one and there was only one little drop of blood on her arm. She's still screaming stuff and when a staff member comes in to see what the deal is, Bug Eyes starts with "Get this girl away from me! She don't know what she's doing and she's been drinking! I smell it all over her!"

Now I had to pause and look at her like she was the crazy person she obviously was. I am like "Excuse me?" Where did that one come from? I just stare at her eyes all bugging out with the syringe now in place. Then that staff member and I are trying to calm her down and be still so I can get the blood without her yanking the PICC out. Quickly I finished, Bug Eyes still hollering I am a drunk and she's gonna sue the hospital and buy a new house....I flush her line, capped it off and ran out of the room as she decides to start swinging at us when we let her arm loose.

I went directly to the nurse, handed the tubes of blood off, and said the least she could have done was told me that patient was crazy before I walked in there. That other staff member who was trying to help me comes up and hugs me with a big sniff. I don't even know this chick. So I just stood there stiff armed and realized she was sniffing for alcohol. I say if you are trying to see if I am drunk, you can just ask me and I will blow in your face. So I did. Probably smelled like the Skittles I was snacking on before. Then I went over to the little alcohol hand sanitizer and rubbed it on my hands and said, now do I smell like alcohol? The hand sanitizer there must have been the generic kind. Not like purell that has a decent smell. It smelled straight up like some ETOH. I had used the sanitizer right before I went into Bug Eyes' room, and that's all I can think of why she busted out with that one.

I went back downstairs to my home floor and claimed I was done doing that floor any favors for the night. My manager just so happened to be pulling a night shift orienting a new nurse and I told her all about it. She thought it was funny. Later that shift she'd gone upstairs to look at Bug Eyes chart to find a slew of psych diagnoses. SO I am like, oh well, another crazy............

THEN, I work the next night and that morning around 0500, the head supe of the med surg floors tells me I've had a complaint from Bug Eyes saying I was drunk and I need to write up exactly what happened and what was said. I seriously thought she was joking. I was also busy as hell and had to catch a flight immediately after the shift was over. I talked to the manager immediately and she was all like "I know! I told supe that I worked with you that whole night." She also said the supe wanted to know why I wasn't piss tested. Manager told her the thought never crossed her mind because she was with me in my area all night, there was no way in hell I was drinking, and that Bug Eyes was indeed crazy and this did not warrant this kind of follow up.

Needless to say I spent most of the plane trip home writing down everything I could remember about the incident including quotes and had to fax it in. Never heard another word about it except co-workers making alcoholic comments to each other about using the cheap alcoholic sanitizer. Guess 'ol Bug Eyes didn't get her a new house on this one. Bubble-eyed-crazy-bitch!




This is what she would looklike if she were a man. I swear!

Nurses and Narcs

What is it exactly with nurses and narcotics/substance/alcohol abuse? I have seen for myself and heard too many stories about nurses getting busted. Here are a few.

There was a code called on Paula's patient. Paula was in the bathroom. They banged on the door to have her come help her coding patient since she was the primary RN and knew about the patient. Paula sprinted out in a weird frenzy. About 10 minutes later Cocoa had to pee. She goes into the same one-holer staff bathroom that Paula was in last to find a broken Demerol vial, an alcohol swab, and an empty syringe on the sink. Everyone got tested, and Paula was fired/went to rehab--something.

Two traveling nurses, a couple, got busted like this: Apparently the girlfriend RN took too much of something(s) IV and the boyfriend RN didn't have enough Narcan on hand. He had no choice but to start CPR and call 9-1-1. The paramedics found stacks of vials and syringes of IV narcotics out on the kitchen table. Big investigation led to many missing narcs, and discrepancies from the floors they worked (they were floaters). Yep, they lost that assignment.

Nurse Jean I worked with was always in a giddy mood. I thought she just had a chipper personality. A patient complained he wasn't getting the "strong" medicine and was in a great deal of pain. The nurse manager was called in on it at his insistence. Jean had been taking his Vicodin for herself and giving him Motrin instead. Upon investigation, this had gone on for months. She was sent to rehab, but told everyone she would be gone for a while due to a back surgery.. (bogus--she was in rehab).

Then one hospital I worked at there was an RN (Jane the drunk) who had been there for many years. She had an "angel" as they called her who would catch her before work to be sure she wasn't intoxicated. The "angel" (who was a charge RN) would just send her home if she was not "fit to work". I didn't believe this one until I saw Jane one morning before the charge angel did. She was plastered! And then I followed her up in the elevator where the angel was waiting on her. She took one look at Jane and said "Go home, you are sick today" Jane protests and makes a scene, while regular staffers looked the other way.(I of course was being all nosey, staring at them). She STILL worked there when my assignment ended.

A fellow traveler was befriended by a CNA on her floor. He loved his weed and was proud of it. But the thing that got us was that he confided in my friend that he had some pills if she ever wanted any. When she became inquisitive, he admitted to retrieving various pills from sharps containers where some RNs dump their wastes. CNAs were responsible for replacing sharps containers when they were full. He even admitted not knowing what some of his "finds" were most of the time, but he took them all the same. He seemed to justify himself by saying he NEVER took the IV stuff out-only pills and pill halves. He also asked her if she wanted to toke on a blunt during their break, that he knew the place to go.

I just don't know what some people are thinking. How can they not get busted with pyxis, omni-cells, sure-med machines and whatever other kind of computerized narcotic dispenser they have out there? How can they function while abusing these types of drugs?

Ok for those of you who may not be familiar with the system, at most hospitals there is a machine we have to get patients' medicines out of. If it is a controlled substance, the computer wants you to count what you see when the selected bin opens. You type in what you see and when you take what you are supposed to the computer automatically subtracts it. So if you miscount it gives you another try and then if it is still wrong, it posts a discrepancy that has to be resolved before the end of the shift by two nurses-or more.

This is the closest I have ever come to being "busted". I was wearing a too big scrub top with huge pockets on both front sides. I had to lean over to get the 60 or so Lortabs pharmacy had shoved in the pyxis bin and count them. Each time I was coming up 10 short. I was sure that pharmacy must have pressed the wrong number when they stocked, so I got my little 2 out, gave it to my patient, let the charge know there was a discrepancy and went on my merry way outside for a smoke break. Well, I reached into one of my pockets for my lighter and found 10 Lortabs in there! I about pissed my pants! I didn't even take my break, but headed right back to the floor and showed the charge RN who laughed at me. I guess because there were so many, 10 somehow slid into my large loose pocket. But hey--I was new and I take my narcs seriously. Almost my whole career I have worked with people who don't know me, either because I was a traveler or a floater. I WILL follow you around after you have witnessed my waste in the pyxis, omni-cell, sure-med, whatever and be sure you watch my waste with your own eyes. I don't care how many eye rolls I get. And I will secretly watch you if you have asked me to be a witness on the computerized med holder. I don't even want to be involved in/waste my time with investigations. No, I don't like to mess with narcs.

Ok One more story within this story. One time I accidentally squirted myself in the eye with some Morphine when I was wasting some of what I had pulled up in the syringe. Now, I have had Morphine, as well as Percocet in the past with a surgery and wisdom teeth extraction and I do not do well with these types of things. Like a tiny bit would make me fall out, say crazy things, be high as a kite, you get the drift-I have no tolerance. So I was so scared when that Morphine went into my eyeball that I would pass out or something. I made sure to tell all my co-workers that if they found me on the floor, it was not because I ingested the morphine on purpose and to feel free to Narcan me. Guess it didn't do anything to me, or I was too busy to notice.

If I still have any readers, do share any of your stories on this subject.

Sometimes strokes are strange

I remember the lady like it was yesterday. She was a direct admit, which means she bypassed the ED and came straight to the floor with orders. I walked into the room with no warning of what I would see. She was the cutest thing, but I couldn't figure out why she was flapping her arm around. I didn't want to address this immediately because I didn't know if it was some crazy-psych thing or what. Her husband was sitting beside her bed as if she was not doing anything out of the ordinary. I introduce myself and asked where they were from, you know some idle chit chat.

Then she says, "Oh don't worry about this 'ol arm. It just does what it wants."

Her right arm is literally flapping around fairly rapidly. It was already making me tired watching it. It was as if it were being led my her elbow; down, then up in front of her and circling back and then down to her side again. The rest of her arm just flapped around straightening at times, circling her side. It was like the rest of her arm was jelly.

I saw that her elbow was rubbing the bed each time it came around and so I tried to hold her arm still to get a better look. I couldn't get it to stay completely still, but enough to see the skin was raw and starting to bleed. With her husband's help I dressed it and added some padding and taped it up pretty well. As I was doing this, if I let go of her arm she'd yell "Watch out, it's gonna slap the shit out of you!" or "Don't be mad, it's not me it is the arm!" while giggling.

At least she had a sense of humor, I think I would have been fed up by now. Her arm had been on the move for 2 days now. Apparently she had some sort of infarct somewhere in her cerebellum, or stroke in some weird place, if I am remembering correctly. The only deficit was the arm. Because she had just arrived, there was no information or history and physical to browse through.

She was a pleasure to be around and I still wonder how they fixed her. Apparently she didn't stay long because no one I asked knew whatever happened to her or how they fixed her. But I am assuming she did get fixed. Or maybe there is some old lady out there in the world still flapping that arm around.

Any insights as to what exactly this could have been?

Back from vacation

Had such a great, relaxing week. A real vacation with no schedules, no watches, good food and good company. Staying up tonight to get back to my nocturnal schedule. Can't think about hospital stuff yet. Check back on Thursday maybe. Hope all is well in the blogger world!

ON VACATION!

Type ya next week!

Weirdo

I had a co-worker that was pretty weird. He was very tall, with dark straight hair and those bangs that are just bluntly cut right across his forehead. It was like he brushed his hair down from the top/back part of his head toward his nose. He wore a white uniform every single shift. Several would make comments that he must own only one set of scrubs. We were convinced this must have been true when he had a pen to burst in his chest pocket. It made a big stain and so every time he came to work, there were those white scrubs with the stain. He collected those little lids that you pop off drug vials, you know the plastic circular tops that come in multiple colors. He would protest each time he saw one of us flick a lid in the trash, and then dig it out. One coworker claimed to be developing a paranoia-looking around to be sure Weirdo wasn't near by every time he was trying to draw up meds. He was caught on several occasions eating from patient trays in the dirty linen room. One of the times he was busted, he said, "What? They didn't even touch it!" We also found out he had a mail order bride from like Russia or Yugoslavia or something, I can't remember exactly where. We never saw him with a stethoscope and wondered what the hell he was doing during rounds. I was always too busy to investigate. But I don't believe he owned one and never asked to borrow. Whoever was charge while he worked would check up on him and his patients like crazy. One made the comment he must have gotten his license from a 1-800-number. He would make strange comments during various conversations that would make the place go silent trying to figure out how it correlated with the topic.

I think you can gather he was a strange bird. OK time for the clincher. About 15 minutes before day shift came in for report, he goes to the restroom. Now there are several bathrooms he could have chosen to do his business, but he chose the one that opens up to the report room. A fellow coworker wants to go look at herself in the mirror or whatever before report and she tries to go to the same bathroom. (It was a one-holer). She opens the door to find Weirdo totally naked, stained white scrubs folded neatly on the sink, shoes off. He's sitting down on the toilet reading a newspaper while obviously taking a big dump according to the smell that nearly knocked her down, as she put it. He didn't jump or try to make a move to do anything, just turned his head and looked at her only slightly surprised. She let out a sort of screech and slams the door closed then runs out of the report room.

She didn't tell me and two other coworkers until we were walking toward our cars.

I'm like "Are you sure he wasn't like reading some nudy mag?"

She says it was definitely a newspaper and he was just chillin on the toilet....naked.

I mean, THERE IS A LOCK ON THE DOOR! And why would you stink up that particular bathroom when you KNOW it's gonna waft in the report room that was about to be filled in like 10 minutes.

Weeks later it was being discussed at the nurse's desk and someone said they had heard of people who have to take their clothes off to take a dump. I had never heard of this prior to this incident, nor have I heard of it since.

What about ya'll? Anyone out there feel the need to strip in order to move the bowels? I'd like to know what this disorder is called. I do not believe this is normal!

Oh and he was a traveler. They didn't renew his contract.

New colors

Scalpel said he couldn't read my blog because I guess the bright green was not easy on the eyes. So I decided to take a look on another computer. On my home computer it is much more dull! I had no idea it was so blinding! Why didn't someone come right out and tell me? SO I have changed the main color, what do you think? Easier---less blinding?

This is how I feel sometimes

E-Greeting Card


But I always "water" them anyways.

Bipolar Quad

So I was in my earlier years of my career and I was a newbie and my patient is a new quadriplegic as of 3 weeks ago or something like that. She was not too demanding yet as quads can be known to be. She had a big mug that she liked to have placed in the crook of her neck so she could just turn her head and drink from the straw without having to ask for help. I was very encouraging of her wanting to be as independent as possible.

Some of her conversations were strange like something could be missing up there if you know what I mean. But I didn't dwell too much on it as I was used to weird people by now I just listened to her drone on and on. I turned her regularly as our CNAs never seemed to get around to doing so and she was an easy turn and just less drama if I did it myself. I kept her fluffed, clean and comfortable all shift and every request was granted as best I could without problem.

She was too nice, telling me things like how wonderful my scrubs were, (they were the regular baggy blue ones like the run of the mill lots of people wear especially in the OR). She gushed about how beautiful my hair was (it was piled in a wad on top of my head with some major roots showing--bad hair). All these crazy compliments came out just before she asked for pain meds. Maybe she thought I wasn't gonna give them to her or something. I always did, no questions asked except the regular where does it hurt, how does it feel and what number do you rate it. She told me how fabulous of a nurse I was constantly, then wanted to talk smack about all the other ones on the floor and made up elaborate stories of how they had mistreated her. She even made up some story that someone said something about me that was negative. Now I can't remember exactly what is was, but when she said the worker's name, I didn't even know who she was because she wasn't part of our regular staff and felt certain she had no idea who I was. This is when I began to keep my distance. She was obviously a manipulator and trying to do the old split the staff trick.

Once after I administered her IV pain medicine, she calmly asks if she can speak to the charge nurse. I say of course she can, but was there anything I could possibly help her with as I was her primary nurse.

"No, just send her in please"

I told the charge nurse and said I had no idea what it was about. I had visions of her wanting to commend me for taking such good care of her as I was wearing myself out over her.

The charge nurse reported back to me. That patient accused me of taking her pain medicine! I was pissed......until I found out the rest of the fabrication. When charge asks Bipolar what made her think I was taking her pain meds, Bipolar tells her she saw me push the med into her IV line---she had IV fluids running---and then I supposedly unhooked the line from her and put it in my mouth and sucked the Morphine out. I guess the charge was getting a kick out of this because she made Bipolar describe in detail what she "saw". Apparently I undid the IV line and put the part of the line that goes to the patient in my mouth and sucked the fluid. Charge tells me she finally couldn't keep a straight face and Bipolar got angry and kicked her out of the room and said she would wait and tell the MD when they made rounds.

This is when I read her history to discover some unstable mentality going on. She had turned on me so I steered clear of the room as the shift was to be over in 45 minutes anyways. I had worked my butt off for her, being so empathetic and listening to her asinine stories all shift for this?

Then it gets even more interesting. I was standing outside her room charting when the MDs made their rounds. The attending comes out of her room and asks if I took care of Bipolar that night to which I said I had. Then he reams me out in front of all his little residents, interns and medical students. Stuff like she was not a dog and where did I get off putting that mug by her neck for her water. Before I could explain this was HER idea, he just doesn't shut up. I hadn't gotten to the point where I was brave enough to make him shut the hell up, so I just stood there red faced and took it. He also accused me of not turning her all night and she didn't get a bath (she had refused) and reminded me she was a human being and what kind of nurse was I. There was more, but now is all a blur. All I could say was that he had not been there that night to witness the level of care that Bipolar thing had gotten and did he realize that she was in fact bipolar therefore she might not be telling him the truth. He just stormed off, not acknowledging I'd said anything and his little people followed him all staring at me as they walked by.

I thought of a thousand things I wanted to say to him after the fact, but took it to the charge nurse instead. I didn't know until the end of the shift what happened next. Charge nurse told manager. Manager already had it out for this attending for past unnecessary run ins with other nurses. Manager tracks him down in the middle of the ICU that joined our floor and blesses him out in front of all his followers and the ICU staff. How dare he treat one of her new nurses like that, and did he even know that patients history, and he couldn't decipher what went on that shift when he only whips in Bipolar's room for 15 minutes and who the hell did he think he was and if he ever bothered one of her nurses ever again, his ass would be hers. He didn't get a word in and manager storms off saying she is going to report him.

SWEET! I just wish I could be there to witness that as it apparently caused quite a stir. I love it when someone has my back! It is actually a rare thing in this profession.



P.S. I don't know why my font changes in the middle of my posts. It is getting on my nerves.

Idiot

I walked onto the floor hoping I would get a decent assignment as I was in a mood. When the secretary laughed as she saw it was me that got a particular room I just knew I was doomed for the next 12 hours. Luckily I was assured this patient was on the way out the door.....as soon as security could escort him out.

"Interesting", I thought.

Then, "YAY! "

He is leaving and according to the day shift this was a good thing. He still managed to get on my damn nerves for the next 45 minutes.
I don't even know why he was there; something about some cut on his leg. I didn't even have to take report, but during my getting report on my others, I couldn't help but be disturbed by his antics. He was in his 50s, unkempt, and switched back and forth from whining to yelling something about lawsuits. So I had to ask for the details.

Apparently this idiot could not be a patient. We don't ask for much. He had a sitter because someone down the line thought it might help him in some way. He had been told many times he could not leave the hospital to walk to the local gas station for beer. He also refused all treatments and vitals and everyting but demanded various things such as massages and gourmet food. Just that afternoon he went for a walk, sitter in tow. When they were on the way to the local gas station, the sitter calls the floor from her own cell phone to state their location. The sitter was told to come back to the floor as this was a bit beyond her normal call of duty. When the patient returned, he was told to have a ride ready, or they would give him a taxi voucher, he was no longer a patient due to some major non compliance. Props to the doctors for this one-what's the point of wasting everyone's time if you're not going to comply with at least half of what you need to do to get better. Usually us nurses have to just keep babysitting and spending too much time dealing with idiots thus subtracting our time with patients who truly belong in the hospital and need us. Obviously whatever was wrong with him was not life threatening, so he gets to leave.

He proceeded to pitch a fit when the security showed up to escort him out. This is when I began to watch the action. The nurse is trying to take out his IV. He states he is refusing, and would not give his permission and this was a violation of his patient's rights. Then he picked the phone up and announced, "I am calling 911 for some help". The cop/security immediately unplugs the phone and the patient whines, "I just want to make a phooooone caaaaall" I come to the door ready to help tackle him and rip the IV out so he can go on his merry way, but no one gives me the cue. (damn!-he was gettin' on my nerves) But obviously we don't get to do that at this hospital. He drags everything out and starts saying he has all these new and acute medical problems (headache that could be a brain tumor, he is hearing voices, he's having a heart attack...) I watch in amusement as he tries everything he can to not get the boot and wonder how long everyone is going to let this drone on.

Perhaps the psych ward would be a more ideal place for this fellow. He had already been discovered quite competent by the psych consult 2 days prior.

So they finally get him and his bag of belongings in to the wheelchair and security is wheeling him out of his room. Most of the staff has scattered by now except me and the 2 cops and the person I have been trying to get report from. When they make it right outside the room, Idiot dramatically stands up, arches his back, carefully "falls" onto the floor and proceeded to do his best imitation of a seizure. We all stare at him in disbelief and one cop says, "Mr. Idiot, we have been very patient with you so far, I suggest you get off the floor"l

Idiot keeps "seizing"

So I walked over to him, leaned down, grabbed his right nipple and pinched and turned fairly forcefully. I learned this trick working lots of neuro. It is a form of painful stimuli and if someone is really seizing, they won't acknowledge this as a normal non seizing person would. As soon as the titty twister was in progress, Idiot reaches for my hand and whines "oooooouuuuuch!"

"Well it isn't a real seizure" I say and walk back to finish getting report.

Both cops jerked him up off the floor and sat him back in the wheelchair and told him that was all they were gonna tolerate.

SEE YA!

ER rotation-nursing school

I was pumped and ready for some gory business my first shift in the ER while in nursing school. I was pretty disappointed I didn't get a night shift on the first weekend of the month with a full moon, but I settled for the random Saturday day shift that was given to me. I spent the first several hours awkwardly wandering around, threw some foleys in because the nurses thought it would be good for me to practice that, never mind my protests that I was an expert at this already. I was getting depressed about this so called exciting, busy ER.

Then we had one coming in. Motorcycle versus guardrail at high speed. I positioned myself in the trauma room as far away from the door as possible with the hopes I would "get stuck" in there AKA wouldn't be asked to leave if someone felt I was in the way. I wanted to SEE. And boy did I.

First off he was not a nice boy. Mid-30s, long hair, trying top hit people as they restrained him. He had on ratty faded jeans he screamed were his favorites when they cut them off. I am thinking those jeans are the least of his worries. He reeked of alcohol, this was about noon. He and his cousin had been at the strip club drinking, smoking weed and doing coke. He was cussing up a storm and saying someone cut him off and how he was gonna be rich when he sued. I heard something about some bleeding in the abdomen, crushed tib-fib, lacerated something or another, etc. I am directly across from the doctor giving orders and assessing and I am trying to take it all in.

Then someone notices his foot, or I think the medic reminded us about his foot. I craned my neck to the side to take a peek. It looked all hamburgerish at the ankle and his toes looked perfectly shaped, but a weird purplish color. I couldn't see good enough from where I was. They wanted to move him from the stretcher to the gurney or maybe it is the other way around. Anyways. That doctor points at me and says,"YOU. Stabilize that foot while we move him and then hold it in place!"

I look behind me to see who he is talking to, but no one is there. (!!!YIKES!!!!) He means ME. Little 'ol nursing student me.

I go to the foot and see that I can't understand how it is still attached. After we moved him it was my (extremely important job in my mind of course) ...my job to keep his foot steady in a position I thought it might should go in. I couldn't help but stare and as I got braver I'd move it around just a bit to see inside and figure out if it really was attached at all. Turns out it was by a narrow shred of skin and what might have been a ligament or something on the outside of his ankle. I remember thinking--WOW how can this not hurt even a little. Guess he was too high to feel much.

Of note, he kept asking about his cousin Vinny who had been riding on the back of the motorcycle. He would look at me from time to time and tell me to go check the other room to see if he was OK. I didn't say anything back. Vinny was still lying on the highway with a sheet over his dead body. And Mr. Stripclub was going to the OR to have his leg amputated. Then probably to jail.

I was pumped I got to actually see something and I bragged to my fellow classmates about my "very important job".

But upon reflection, I wondered how this guy's life would play out. He was the impaired driver of an accident that killed.....KILLED his cousin. How will he deal with that-in jail, unable to get drunk or high to fade out the memory of his cousin and anything he remembers about that day.