I get a moment to do some documentation. A call light goes on and I step up to answer it. A few minutes later I go back to the seat where I was doing my documentation and somebody/anybody else has assumed my spot and placed their own work materials, such as a notebook or perhaps a computer, right on top of my own workbook, which contains the medication records and cardexes for the patients in my team.
That's what we call them: our "team." As if my patients and I were contesting the freakin' World Cup.
Or I'm assessing and maybe even changing the linens for a patient and the rounders come in. The neurology residents, the pulmonology residents, the cardio residents, the medical residents, or The Residents themselves, giant eyeballs and tuxedos and all.
"Duckstab" was a personal favorite. "Six Things to a Cycle" from "Fingerprince" got a lot of vinyl play back in my radio days, too, as well as at home dance parties.
I'd pass out a bunch of chewing gum to all my guests. You had to be there. Only we didn't call it "there." We called it "here."
Chew chew gum chew gum gum.
Things really happened back then. Things happen still, but without the weird masks and goofy music.
Anyways, I'm at work and I'm just trying to do my fucking job and there's a freaking boatload of people in my way, or maybe I'm in their way, because they have to draw blood, or assess the patient's occupational skills for home, or cover their neuro issues, or choose a coumadin dose, or pull their pacer wires, or administer a nebulizer treatment, or they want to take their picture for People Magazine, or they want to do a bedside echocardiogram, or maybe they just want to squeeze my nipples with a wrench until they bleed and throw me out the window, I just don't really know.
I'm the nurse. I'm in the way. So shoot me. But make it quick. Oh forget it. My phone is beeping and one of my other little darlings just went into A-fib with a rate of 160.
1 comment:
Maybe what you need to do is chew some of that gum. Then when you leave, take it out of your mouth and put it conspicuously right by your notebook, on the table.
They won't want to sit there.
Of course, when you left the table had only your book and the chair was empty. So maybe it would be an equitable trade off that when you return, their book is on yours and they are in your seat, so you stack your behind on their lap.
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