Im not overly fond of cowboys.
Especially in this part of the world. It seems to me that being a cowboy involves:
A: driving trucks with "dualies"
B: wearing ugly polyester shirts with snap buttons
C: missing at least 4 teeth in a complete set
D: wearing starched jeans and a cowboy hat (except they curl their lip and pronounce it "het")
However, I like to go out with friends, so one night, Dean and I decided to go to a club called "BIG TEXAS." Yeah. You get the picture.
They actually charged us to get in. I think they should have OFFERED us money to go past the front door.
A few hours later, after enduring songs like "Now I lay Me Down To Cheat" and "Her Teeth were Stained, but her Heart was Pure", I was pleasantly buzzed, and feeling a bit cocky. I was standing in place, talking to a couple of friends, sort of dancing in one place. (I wasnt on the dance floor because there was a line dance going on....I was worried I would be crushed by all the fat girls that always seem to pour onto the floor at the first note of Boot Scootin Boogie.)
So Im dancing in one place, and feel a bit of a draft near my ass region. I turn around, and this COWBOY is waving his "het" at my ass. I glare at him and he says, "Darlin, you need to coooool down."
I look at him and say, "Can I see your "het"? (Good thing I wasnt missing teeth or that question would have been the equivalent of saying, "Wanna fuck?")
He says, "Why shore darlinnnn"
I took his hat, and threw it like a frisbee out onto the dance floor. I was aiming for the chick that was wearing sequins but I missed.
Cowboy Fuckface looks at me and gets in my face and says, "Yer MEAN!" By this time, I am ready to kick him in his denim encased crotch....but suddenly, I feel these iron hands close over my shoulders, and I am picked up and moved behind some guy. It was my husband. The cowboy took one look at him and walked away in a hurry.
This all took place about 6 months ago. Last week we decided to go to BIG TEXAS again (except the neon lights are burnt out so all you see is "___ __XAS" blinking pathetically. Like a dumbass, I left my wallet in the truck (yes it was locked) and some skank stole it and went on a shopping spree.
I bet you a million dollars she was related to that cowboy.....karma always gets you sooner or laer.
13 January, 2009
02 January, 2009
Happy New Year
I wouldnt say that nursing is an art. Truthfully, I think my reasons for being a nurse are selfish: I like to make other people feel good, because it makes me feel good. As much as I complain and whine about the emotional vacuum it creates, I feel like my feet are planted more firmly on the ground when Im at work.
So. The hospital I am currently employed at needs a charge nurse. I can see why too: the unit is huge. 43 beds. It is often short staffed. The patient demographics suck. Alot of the staff are understandably burned out. New Years eve was no exception. Im filling in as charge nurse, but New Years Eve, instead of charging with only one primary patient, I had 5. That means I have to look after 5 of my own patients, plus be in "charge" of the rest of the floor.
Basically that means I have to delegate without pissing people off, and handle situations before they escalate.
I arrive at work at 1830. I am greeted with the staffing arrangement. Im not impressed. Then its time to do the narcotic count. Thank goodness there are no discrepancies. Then its time to get report on 43 patients. In the middle of this, a day nurse tells me that a certain doctor, who has MAJOR phsycological issues, is refusing to reconcile the medications on a patient who is about to be discharged.
Ever been yelled at? I mean REALLY yelled at by someone who you have never met? It sucks. Anyone who knows me understands how hard it is for me not to pop back twice as hard. For example, the other night, an asshole urologist was interrogating me about why his patients were still in the hospital. I wanted to look him in the eye and say, "Im sorry, what did you say? I was too busy looking at all those warts on your face." Instead, I said, "Im not sure, but Ill try to find out for you." (Dont get me wrong....I dont kiss their asses, but I certainly hold back when it comes to retorts. I have the emotionless facial expression perfected when it comes to dealing with asshole doctors.)
Anyways, Dr. Fucktard is on the phone, and continues to demean me, and any other nurse who has the pleasure of talking to him. His personal mental struggles end up putting a patient in danger, so I have to write him up in what is described as an "objective and factual" manner. How do I write, "HES A GIANT ASSHOLE" in professional terms?
Next, we have a nursing home patient who was admitted for AMS....which means "altered mental status". When you see AMS as a diagnoses, you know you are going to be dealing with A: pleasantly confused man or woman or B: a crazyassed bastard thats going to take a swing at you unless you get some sedation. The little guy that we got was a swinger. He only weighed 100 pounds though so he wasnt threatening. What WAS an issue was the fact that his bladder was so distended, it looked like it was ready to pop. He couldnt pee. I would have AMS too if I couldnt pee. We tried to put a catheter in him, and it was a bloody mess. Five different nurses tried five different times. All we got was blood. It was horrible. We had to hold him down.
So we call the doctor and he requests an emergency urology consult. Its 3am. Its New Years Day. The one urologist consult I got ahold of snapped, "I am NOT taking emergency consults" and hung up on me. Next step? Emergency surgical consult. The doctor was paged NINE TIMES. Called at his home, his pager, and his mobile. In the mean time, the patient is trying to get out of bed. I dont blame him...he was probably worried that those crazy nurses were going to come back and try to stuff a tube up his penis again.
After 12 hours of trying to help this little man, and having to write up another doctor for "delay in treatment" that could "result in harm to the patient", it was time to give report to the day shift. We finally got a hold of the doctor, but it wasnt a happy moment. This poor little confused man had suffered for the whole shift. And I couldnt do anything about it except sedate him when he tried to climb out of bed.
Next year Im going to go out and get shiftaced instead of working.
So. The hospital I am currently employed at needs a charge nurse. I can see why too: the unit is huge. 43 beds. It is often short staffed. The patient demographics suck. Alot of the staff are understandably burned out. New Years eve was no exception. Im filling in as charge nurse, but New Years Eve, instead of charging with only one primary patient, I had 5. That means I have to look after 5 of my own patients, plus be in "charge" of the rest of the floor.
Basically that means I have to delegate without pissing people off, and handle situations before they escalate.
I arrive at work at 1830. I am greeted with the staffing arrangement. Im not impressed. Then its time to do the narcotic count. Thank goodness there are no discrepancies. Then its time to get report on 43 patients. In the middle of this, a day nurse tells me that a certain doctor, who has MAJOR phsycological issues, is refusing to reconcile the medications on a patient who is about to be discharged.
Ever been yelled at? I mean REALLY yelled at by someone who you have never met? It sucks. Anyone who knows me understands how hard it is for me not to pop back twice as hard. For example, the other night, an asshole urologist was interrogating me about why his patients were still in the hospital. I wanted to look him in the eye and say, "Im sorry, what did you say? I was too busy looking at all those warts on your face." Instead, I said, "Im not sure, but Ill try to find out for you." (Dont get me wrong....I dont kiss their asses, but I certainly hold back when it comes to retorts. I have the emotionless facial expression perfected when it comes to dealing with asshole doctors.)
Anyways, Dr. Fucktard is on the phone, and continues to demean me, and any other nurse who has the pleasure of talking to him. His personal mental struggles end up putting a patient in danger, so I have to write him up in what is described as an "objective and factual" manner. How do I write, "HES A GIANT ASSHOLE" in professional terms?
Next, we have a nursing home patient who was admitted for AMS....which means "altered mental status". When you see AMS as a diagnoses, you know you are going to be dealing with A: pleasantly confused man or woman or B: a crazyassed bastard thats going to take a swing at you unless you get some sedation. The little guy that we got was a swinger. He only weighed 100 pounds though so he wasnt threatening. What WAS an issue was the fact that his bladder was so distended, it looked like it was ready to pop. He couldnt pee. I would have AMS too if I couldnt pee. We tried to put a catheter in him, and it was a bloody mess. Five different nurses tried five different times. All we got was blood. It was horrible. We had to hold him down.
So we call the doctor and he requests an emergency urology consult. Its 3am. Its New Years Day. The one urologist consult I got ahold of snapped, "I am NOT taking emergency consults" and hung up on me. Next step? Emergency surgical consult. The doctor was paged NINE TIMES. Called at his home, his pager, and his mobile. In the mean time, the patient is trying to get out of bed. I dont blame him...he was probably worried that those crazy nurses were going to come back and try to stuff a tube up his penis again.
After 12 hours of trying to help this little man, and having to write up another doctor for "delay in treatment" that could "result in harm to the patient", it was time to give report to the day shift. We finally got a hold of the doctor, but it wasnt a happy moment. This poor little confused man had suffered for the whole shift. And I couldnt do anything about it except sedate him when he tried to climb out of bed.
Next year Im going to go out and get shiftaced instead of working.
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