Well last night was less fun than the evening she defecated in the shower. Yep, last night was smell sourcing. While trying to find the source of the smell in her room, she showered twice and did laundry twice. The second time, she dragged wet clothes to her room before they were done. In the process of mopping that up with towels, i noticed that the water got deeper in her room. Not a good sign. Then she said she flushed until it worked, but the water came out. Crap. This from the girl who was using a plastic fork to dig something from under her fingernails and was leaving brown fingerprints on her water pitcher and the dryer (locked that room quick). Guess the smell was buried deeper than we thought. After the disinfection dude came over, the smell got a bit better. Maybe she wasn't digging her butt. Maybe she was snaking the drain. Either way, it was one of those days. And she wasn't even the problem child.
Nope, that one is in a manic league of her own. And i can't type fast enough to come close to approximating the level of fun she provided. She describes herself as hard to handle. Yep. But that is a whole other level of fun, minions.
And i have days until i get another break from the med resistant darling.
Meanwhile, the garden is growing, the birds are chirping and i have 4 hours to be someone else.
Off to that now.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Nutkin Squirrel
I was making toast for my 90-year-old lady Wednesday morning when i heard a load clang from the driveway. She does not live in the nicest neighborhood, as it aged less gracefully than she has, so i ran to the window. She was still brushing her dentures and gums and heard nothing over the running water. I heard it again. It sounded like a can hitting the pavement. An empty can. And then i saw it. The world's proudest looking squirrel moving as swiftly as possible across the driveway near the garage. In his mouth he had a covered (sadly empty) can of peanuts held by the edge of the lid. Off he trotted. If he ever managed to crack it, his friends probably laughed him out of the nest.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Ileus is everywhere this week. Also, Developmental disability plus mental illness equals mess
So, my patient got transferred. Turns out she and my cat have Ileus in common. Go figure. Hers is a blockage. The cat's was functional secondary to severe gastroenteritis. Either way, both were full of shit in a deadly kind of way. Good thing i can detect FoS from a mile off... lol. And good thing it was something that shows up on x-ray. The doctors can't argue with that.
Also, to continue a former rant, we have a plethora of the developmentally disabled on the unit lately. We are not trained for this, so it is really hard to do much but medicate them and move on. We have almost no staff, especially on the weekends, and our days are not structured enough for them. In any case, yesterday, the one with FAS and stuff was yelling like a howler monkey and spitting on her roommate's stuff. We moved the roommate. She got meds and then kept acting out. Yelling she wanted gum, snacks, kool-aid (the blue kind), etc. I walked over past her sitter, looked her in the eye and said, "If you sit down, calm down and act like an adult,we will consider giving you something. Until then, you get nothing. So, relax and listen to your staff." We had a staredown. I love those. She sat down. The end. Meanwhile, the autistic one down the hall was having some trouble with boundaries, but told me he loved me because i made sure he was getting pizza and chicken tenders for dinner. Up the hall, our other one, who has a huge abuse and depression history decided to tie something around his neck and get up on his toilet looking for a way to hang. This proved unsuccessful. Luckily, his roommate heard him, because we were between rounds and busy elsewhere.
In the end, everyone survived the weekend. We had one or two staff on the floor, which is far less than ideal, so groups didn't really happen. The addicts were jonesing and pissed off at everyone else (one threatened to strangle another patient and then asked to use the phone. Um, no, not right now. And, apologize.), while the psychotics were freaking out from all the commotion and running for the door.
A typical weekend. The one with ileus was kind of lucky she missed it. Me, i just keep wondering how other units manage as diverse a population as we get with an average of one floor worker per 6-9 patients. Between the addicts, psychotics, developmentally disabled and all the other flavors of the rainbow, it's a wonder everyone gets through it some days.
Back to my day off in the rain.
Later, minions.
Also, to continue a former rant, we have a plethora of the developmentally disabled on the unit lately. We are not trained for this, so it is really hard to do much but medicate them and move on. We have almost no staff, especially on the weekends, and our days are not structured enough for them. In any case, yesterday, the one with FAS and stuff was yelling like a howler monkey and spitting on her roommate's stuff. We moved the roommate. She got meds and then kept acting out. Yelling she wanted gum, snacks, kool-aid (the blue kind), etc. I walked over past her sitter, looked her in the eye and said, "If you sit down, calm down and act like an adult,we will consider giving you something. Until then, you get nothing. So, relax and listen to your staff." We had a staredown. I love those. She sat down. The end. Meanwhile, the autistic one down the hall was having some trouble with boundaries, but told me he loved me because i made sure he was getting pizza and chicken tenders for dinner. Up the hall, our other one, who has a huge abuse and depression history decided to tie something around his neck and get up on his toilet looking for a way to hang. This proved unsuccessful. Luckily, his roommate heard him, because we were between rounds and busy elsewhere.
In the end, everyone survived the weekend. We had one or two staff on the floor, which is far less than ideal, so groups didn't really happen. The addicts were jonesing and pissed off at everyone else (one threatened to strangle another patient and then asked to use the phone. Um, no, not right now. And, apologize.), while the psychotics were freaking out from all the commotion and running for the door.
A typical weekend. The one with ileus was kind of lucky she missed it. Me, i just keep wondering how other units manage as diverse a population as we get with an average of one floor worker per 6-9 patients. Between the addicts, psychotics, developmentally disabled and all the other flavors of the rainbow, it's a wonder everyone gets through it some days.
Back to my day off in the rain.
Later, minions.
Saturday, June 08, 2013
Bile is Vile
afternoon, minions.
As you may have garnered from previous rants and observations, i work on a psych floor. Some say i belong there. I am not sure how to take that, but usually say thank you.
As you also may have noted, i have a love-hate relationship with the medical profession and its treatment of the patients who get the accursed label "psych." And again i am fearful that this is going to play out for one of the patients. Please note that i do not anywhere mention what hospital i work for on purpose. Nor do i mention patient names. I just don't need that sort of attention.
In any case, one of our older patients started vomiting bile. Cups of it. Yesterday. If she laid flat or walked much or leaned forward, at least some came out. The doctor came and is running tests today. Meanwhile, i have sworn off pesto for a while. Wouldn't it be grand it, once again, the reason she had stopped eating and drinking was not psychological? Yeah, me too...
Off to see if she's any better today and play with the other psychotic and moody denizens.
Later, minions.
As you may have garnered from previous rants and observations, i work on a psych floor. Some say i belong there. I am not sure how to take that, but usually say thank you.
As you also may have noted, i have a love-hate relationship with the medical profession and its treatment of the patients who get the accursed label "psych." And again i am fearful that this is going to play out for one of the patients. Please note that i do not anywhere mention what hospital i work for on purpose. Nor do i mention patient names. I just don't need that sort of attention.
In any case, one of our older patients started vomiting bile. Cups of it. Yesterday. If she laid flat or walked much or leaned forward, at least some came out. The doctor came and is running tests today. Meanwhile, i have sworn off pesto for a while. Wouldn't it be grand it, once again, the reason she had stopped eating and drinking was not psychological? Yeah, me too...
Off to see if she's any better today and play with the other psychotic and moody denizens.
Later, minions.
Wednesday, June 05, 2013
What to do when your boss likes to be called the gestapo?
Apply everywhere else. And, when that doesn't work out so well, at least for now (stupid recession crap), try to outlive her. How long do overweight type A control freak greek women live? Meanwhile, the following is a brief replay of the end of my shift last night...
It was one of those nights on the psych floor when everyone was kinda off their rhythm and the patients were acting out. Visitors snuck in contraband, some of which i found, other of which was smoked first, and some probably is still stashed somewhere... None of them want to be there and everyone is loud and complaining about rules and such. Mind you, the loudest ones are the ones that came from ICU after overdosing or the street and have nowhere to go. So, a fun night. A nasty, why must patients barf in paper bags kind of night.
These are the shifts when we all pull together and it all gets done. Which, as it turns out, was the wrong thing to do. My supervisor is working the night shift this week, training a new night supervisor after the last one blew a sarcastic gasket at the wrong time. She comes in at 11 and another tech mentions having done an admission. She immediately jumps on him. "Why would you do an admission? My techs should not have let you do that. I have it assigned to one person and they are to do them (all). They know that. I have a system in place. My techs should do their assignments." And so dies team work. He apologized to me (i think i was searching for contraband or on the rounds board at the time of said admission). "That was unanticipated." Not really.
There were three admissions. I did none. I did two of three discharges, but those don't count. Why no admissions? Because one came in medicated and unconscious (mercifully, as we really can't do much else with violent MR sorts on our unit - we are not equipped or trained for them) and needed a strong guy to do the transfer from stretcher to bed, so i helped get him in bed between rounds and my aforementioned coworker got his vitals. My other coworker did number two while i was on rounds, because he knew this one from the adolescent floor and the kid was freaking out, so talking him down led to the rest. The third, don't remember. Rounds again, i think. I did belongings, which is the icky part. And all of this should never have happened. We are not to help each other out or be a team. Ever. Never mind what works best for the patient or the flow of the unit. Got it. Letter of the law resumes tomorrow.
I hate my job.
I have to go fill out more applications and submit my resume to every business within 30 miles of here now.
Anyone need a team player?
Later, minions.
It was one of those nights on the psych floor when everyone was kinda off their rhythm and the patients were acting out. Visitors snuck in contraband, some of which i found, other of which was smoked first, and some probably is still stashed somewhere... None of them want to be there and everyone is loud and complaining about rules and such. Mind you, the loudest ones are the ones that came from ICU after overdosing or the street and have nowhere to go. So, a fun night. A nasty, why must patients barf in paper bags kind of night.
These are the shifts when we all pull together and it all gets done. Which, as it turns out, was the wrong thing to do. My supervisor is working the night shift this week, training a new night supervisor after the last one blew a sarcastic gasket at the wrong time. She comes in at 11 and another tech mentions having done an admission. She immediately jumps on him. "Why would you do an admission? My techs should not have let you do that. I have it assigned to one person and they are to do them (all). They know that. I have a system in place. My techs should do their assignments." And so dies team work. He apologized to me (i think i was searching for contraband or on the rounds board at the time of said admission). "That was unanticipated." Not really.
There were three admissions. I did none. I did two of three discharges, but those don't count. Why no admissions? Because one came in medicated and unconscious (mercifully, as we really can't do much else with violent MR sorts on our unit - we are not equipped or trained for them) and needed a strong guy to do the transfer from stretcher to bed, so i helped get him in bed between rounds and my aforementioned coworker got his vitals. My other coworker did number two while i was on rounds, because he knew this one from the adolescent floor and the kid was freaking out, so talking him down led to the rest. The third, don't remember. Rounds again, i think. I did belongings, which is the icky part. And all of this should never have happened. We are not to help each other out or be a team. Ever. Never mind what works best for the patient or the flow of the unit. Got it. Letter of the law resumes tomorrow.
I hate my job.
I have to go fill out more applications and submit my resume to every business within 30 miles of here now.
Anyone need a team player?
Later, minions.
Sunday, June 02, 2013
No Shit Sherlock Phrase of the Day
It is what it is.
Really?
Define it, treat like algebra and, yep, guess you're right.
I absolutely despise that phrase more with each passing year. And then my husband used it. *Gasp*
That's right, the accursed words meaning nothing invaded my home. My sanctuary. Nowhere was safe from "it" anymore.
What was i to do? I could force him to define "it" and explain how this "it" could possibly be anything other than itself. I could go on an existential rant about emptiness, the interdependent impermanent empty nature of all phenomena which are merely labeled and can best be said to be "not not" it. Although technically correct in defining phenomena, i have issues with how this sounds in english, so tend not to use that phrase much and really couldn't deal with the hour explanation of terms necessary to get there. So, I considered, instead, countering with "it is not what it is not." "It" being equal, the phrase should be identical.
In the end, I chose "yep." And moved on.
I prefer the Cronkite phrase: "And that's the way it is..."
Sometimes maybe the way it is is what it is....
Really?
Define it, treat like algebra and, yep, guess you're right.
I absolutely despise that phrase more with each passing year. And then my husband used it. *Gasp*
That's right, the accursed words meaning nothing invaded my home. My sanctuary. Nowhere was safe from "it" anymore.
What was i to do? I could force him to define "it" and explain how this "it" could possibly be anything other than itself. I could go on an existential rant about emptiness, the interdependent impermanent empty nature of all phenomena which are merely labeled and can best be said to be "not not" it. Although technically correct in defining phenomena, i have issues with how this sounds in english, so tend not to use that phrase much and really couldn't deal with the hour explanation of terms necessary to get there. So, I considered, instead, countering with "it is not what it is not." "It" being equal, the phrase should be identical.
In the end, I chose "yep." And moved on.
I prefer the Cronkite phrase: "And that's the way it is..."
Sometimes maybe the way it is is what it is....
Saturday, June 01, 2013
Can we V(egan), seo's and the politics of writing
Learned a new term yesterday. Seo. Means search engine optimization and has to do with word placement so the search engines put you in the right searches. Turns out, most sites prefer it over grammar when it comes to choosing writers. So, i may play with it a bit now that i know it exists. Oh, and i am attempting the vegan lifestyle again. Cuz i'm Buddhist and i can (should?).
So, enough introduction. First off, i want to make a living doing anything that will not get me hit and otherwise physically and emotionally abused for a living. I still really want to advocate for the mentally ill and get the cretins in medicine and society at large to see the humans that they/we are. It is a horrible thing to be dehumanized for a brain dysfunction that has nothing to do with who you are any more than type I diabetes defines children. However, the inpatient setting is way too much for my PTSD/depression with a healthy dose of anxiety ridden ass to handle anymore. I have working been in this field in or out patient for over 25 years now.
I have applied to State Farm, cuz i am a good neighbor and always there. Besides, i have family and friends there who should be able to get me in. I don't care what i do, as long as it pays my bills and doesn't cause me bodily harm. Fear of getting clocked again is getting paralytic. Twice in 3 months is enough. So, begging for 33k anywhere else that will take me. I got mad skills, yo. 4 realz. The psych and english degrees are not my only qualities... I am tired of dumbing myself down to get by.
I therefore am looking at the writing for a living angle. There again i am faced with dumbing down and swallowing my everything to get hired to do idiot work for the most part. The good part is that Buddhism does not posit a soul, so if i sell it, i lose nothing. Hey, there's always a bright side. Sometimes it's the headlight just before the train hits the coyote, but it's there.
Meanwhile, my vegetarian self is getting more and more upset at the killing that is rampant on this planet for our convenience. I blame Genesis and want to burn it along with the whole 'dominion over' bullshit mentality. I actually have burnt it. Several times. Best way to get rid of Bibles i can think of and the only constructive use of one that guests won't conscript you to hell for. The whole chair leg thing did not go over well...
So, my husband is solidly in the killing/carcass ingesting camp. He doesn't cook. He is about to be shit out of luck unless he learns to cook meat for himself. Seriously. Had enough of catering to him and having dead flesh in the house. Local organic dairy stuff i can tolerate. The rest not so much. I also have no idea how to cook vegan without nuts, - holy shit that's a big spider crawling on the railing - because i can't have them. Or coconut. Or pomegranate. So, i am trying to figure things out. Beans and lentils are my best buddies for now. Throwing them in lots of things. (moved away from the jumping spider)
Any helpful hints always appreciated.
Later minions.
So, enough introduction. First off, i want to make a living doing anything that will not get me hit and otherwise physically and emotionally abused for a living. I still really want to advocate for the mentally ill and get the cretins in medicine and society at large to see the humans that they/we are. It is a horrible thing to be dehumanized for a brain dysfunction that has nothing to do with who you are any more than type I diabetes defines children. However, the inpatient setting is way too much for my PTSD/depression with a healthy dose of anxiety ridden ass to handle anymore. I have working been in this field in or out patient for over 25 years now.
I have applied to State Farm, cuz i am a good neighbor and always there. Besides, i have family and friends there who should be able to get me in. I don't care what i do, as long as it pays my bills and doesn't cause me bodily harm. Fear of getting clocked again is getting paralytic. Twice in 3 months is enough. So, begging for 33k anywhere else that will take me. I got mad skills, yo. 4 realz. The psych and english degrees are not my only qualities... I am tired of dumbing myself down to get by.
I therefore am looking at the writing for a living angle. There again i am faced with dumbing down and swallowing my everything to get hired to do idiot work for the most part. The good part is that Buddhism does not posit a soul, so if i sell it, i lose nothing. Hey, there's always a bright side. Sometimes it's the headlight just before the train hits the coyote, but it's there.
Meanwhile, my vegetarian self is getting more and more upset at the killing that is rampant on this planet for our convenience. I blame Genesis and want to burn it along with the whole 'dominion over' bullshit mentality. I actually have burnt it. Several times. Best way to get rid of Bibles i can think of and the only constructive use of one that guests won't conscript you to hell for. The whole chair leg thing did not go over well...
So, my husband is solidly in the killing/carcass ingesting camp. He doesn't cook. He is about to be shit out of luck unless he learns to cook meat for himself. Seriously. Had enough of catering to him and having dead flesh in the house. Local organic dairy stuff i can tolerate. The rest not so much. I also have no idea how to cook vegan without nuts, - holy shit that's a big spider crawling on the railing - because i can't have them. Or coconut. Or pomegranate. So, i am trying to figure things out. Beans and lentils are my best buddies for now. Throwing them in lots of things. (moved away from the jumping spider)
Any helpful hints always appreciated.
Later minions.
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