Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Hand Prints on the Walls

I am on the other end of nursing right now....A patient.
I had minor surgery on my feet. What is a nurse without good feet right?

The experience was a good one. Except for the pain of course.

There was also a very nice surprise in the OR. A nurse who has been retired and who comes back to work in the OR once in a while was on duty that day. Dee and I worked together when I was a brand new nurse. She taught me how to start IV's.

I barely remember the spinal anesthesia going in. Dee was holding me upright, my head was on her shoulder and we were talking about our grandchildren. It was so good to see her and I felt so safe and well cared for.

This past week has brought back some old memories of all the times we moved as a young family. I can remember cleaning the houses we left behind. The dirty hand prints along the walls where my kids touched them.

Each time we moved the hand prints were higher up of course.

Now I touch the walls as I try to keep my balance walking in these post op shoes. I think my hands are cleaner though. No hand prints to clean off.

I have gained a new respect for walker users. My elbows and wrists are hurting.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Ode to a co worker.

We met when I was 28 and she was 18. We had decided to start nursing school and we hooked up to do some sharing of rides and soon discovered that we would be sharing so much more.

We studied together almost every night. Let me clarify that. She and my husband drank a lot of beer and laughed a lot about the various anatomy courses while I studied. We both got great grades. I just had to work harder for mine.

Janice made nursing school a great adventure from the beginning to the end. We got a 10 minute break every hour in class and we lived for that 10 minutes. There was on instructor who would try to go over that but Janice fixed that. She hid an alarm clock one day under the teacher's desk. When it went off, the teacher screeched and looked right at Janice frowning. We were all smiling at her though so nothing bad happened to Janice.

They learned not to mess with our ten minute breaks after that.

Things haven't changed too much through the years. Janice is still demanding her breaks and getting them mostly. We have both lost our fathers and are taking care of our mothers and still taking care of our children. I traded my husband in on a wife, which I recommend highly if you have the tendency, and I have the joy of having 5 grandchildren.

We are great nurses, great friends, and still up for any funny business that we can get away with and still get laughs and have fun.

Sometimes I'm a Little up tight because I have a charge position and the director expects more from me than in the old days.

It is hard to find the balance between having fun, being part of my friends and co workers behind the scenes shenanigans, and upholding the trust my director has placed in me.

So I will remember the mustang we drove to clinicals in, the nights she spent on my couch sleeping over after all night "studying", my little ones sitting on her lap when they were so young and cute, waiting for the results after taking the state boards and the partying afterward.

I am happy and so glad we have stayed so close all these years. I will be 57 years old soon but when I think of us I still feel 28.

We are what we remember we are. And we were great!

Sunday, April 5, 2009

A SET UP FOR FAILURE

You would think that after 38 years of washing my hands in a health care setting I would be pretty good at it. Second nature.

I have a pattern that has been endorsed by nursing schools forever. I wash my hands every time I cross a threshold.

However, they had to find a way to document and observe that we are washing our hands so they created a new way... a way that costs lots of money in new product and a way to deliver that product.

Foam in, Foam out. Since my hands are usually full of things going into a room, and full of things going out of a room, this is not conducive to getting me to wash my hands their way. Therefore, when the spies are watching, they say I am not washing my hands. (not true).

I had the humiliating opportunity to get instructed on how to wash my hands the other day. By a sweet young girl who should have been teaching at my grandson's school. There were two of us in the class. Both of us veterans. We could hardly contain our irritation. Let me go back. I definitely did not contain my irritation.

Here we are, mixing up your medications around a dirty sink next to a garbage can in our med room and they want to teach me how to wash my hands.

My bullshit cup runneth over.

The next day I saw that the hand washing inservice had been cancelled. I'll probably be called on the carpet for harassing the poor hygiene lady. Or maybe she caught a clue and went after real issues.
I can only hope.