I'm afraid of my brain...

Ok, this train of thought started this morning. It's another example of my self-diagnosed ADD. I intended at some point to write about how I start stuff and then get side tracked. But I got side tracked. First by the whole being a bad stan thing, then by Facebook (damn you, Mafia Wars!!) then by G-Chat with Alise, which led me to write something I sent to her.

Then of course, I had to attend to the little things in life, like, I dunno.... the fact that I have a child who must be cared for and fed and attended to and whatnot. Not to mention that he needed to practice his guitar, b/c his slacker of a mother didn't make him practice at all on Friday or Saturday.

Soooooo..... here I am, at 9 pm, writing what I intended to write at 7 am. Now, where was I?

Oh, yeah... my brain is a scary place. It is like an amusement park ride in poor repair. You know, like the travelling carnivals that make you pray they don't throw parts until after YOU get off the dang ride. That kind.

Anyway, I started to blame this on being a nurse. B/c when you are a nurse on a busy medical floor, you have to be able to juggle, multitask and prioritize simultaneously... patient A needs pain meds, patient B just came up from ER and has to be admitted, patient C is being discharged and is anxious to get home, D, E and F are just plain ol' sick and need stuff. You kinda just have to go and figure it all out on the run. Then I realized, no... the whole ADD thing started way before nursing. I'm pretty sure having it is an asset in that sense, actually.

But that doesn't change the fact that a person could get hurt up there in my ol' gray matter. It's cluttered and nothing stays where I put it. Kinda like my house. Which leads me to another thought... I really need to tackle my closets and Eli's room.

Eli's room is an even scarier place than my mind. It is literally a universe of its own. It has its own gravitational pull and nothing escapes it. Imagine swirling galaxies, if you will... it's a very young universe, therefore chaotic and lacking organization.

Sorta like my brain. Which leads me back to the topic... I can't stay focused on one thing longer than five minutes today.

Now what was I talking about?

Old people should not be given certain stuff....

Ok, this post will not mean a dang thing to a bunch of y'all. However, let me hear my nurses rep!

There are certain medications that older folks should not be given. Ever. At all. Period. The top two on that list... a sleeper that starts with "A" and a nausea med that starts with "Ph." (Shoot, you dang right I'm bein' cautious.... I don't want those pharmaceutical companies coming after me coz I named their brand...).

Anyway.... here's how it goes. You get a perfectly sensible and sane senior citizen on your medical floor. The doctor prescribes something to help them sleep. The sane and sensible senior swallows the pill with nary a thought. They drop off to sleep. 90 minutes later, sane and sensible has gone out the window! Mr. Senior is now crazy as the proverbial outhouse rat, wide awake and ready to make sure you lose what's left of YOUR mind trying to make sure that he doesn't break a hip climbing over a bedrail....

Not only that, but Mr. Sane Senior (now known as the confused man in 277) has become convinced that he is being held against his will somewhere, though he's not sure where, for some reason, though he's not sure why. One thing he is absolutely certain of is this: YOU ARE THE CULPRIT!! YOU are the enemy... and Lawd help you if he was ever anywhere near Korea in the 50's or VietNam in the 60's, because then, you MUST be a.) the commandant of a POW camp or 2.) a member of the interrogation squad come to torture him.

As an added bonus, Mr. Senior has seemingly lost the ability to keep his clothes anywhere near his body, much less ON his body. IV's will be pulled out. There will be multiple changes of bed linen, and the rest of your patients will be "back burnered" as you attempt to keep Mr. Senior from running his wrinkled hiney up and down the hall boo-booty-ass-nekkid.

Somehow, the nightshift will survive... though how is equal parts miracle and mystery. Come 0700, they will be meeting the dayshift at the daggone door, lookin' like they just went 12 rounds with Muhammed Ali in his prime. Hair every which way, clothes rumpled, dark circles under the eyes, faces pasty and pale. "YOUR TURN!" they cry, as they bolt for their cars.

And do you think it stops? Only NO!! The madness continues unabated. Only now, physical therapy is trying to get in for treatment, the family has arrived and there are food trays to be thrown and played in!! Mrs. Sane Senior shakes her snowy head, and with a perplexed look on her face protests, "I don't understand? This is just so unlike him!!"

Yea, sweetie, I know. That's because it's not him.... it's that nasty little blue pill we gave him at 2100 last night.

And that, my random friends is why old folks and sleeping pills don't mix!

*this is in no way to be interpreted as a single patient event, but a composite of nursing experience*

(o_O I had to side-eye myself for that last statement)

Just like riding a bicycle.....

My only job used to be working at my "hometown hospital." Then I decided to strike out for the great unknown and started working at a hospital in a nearby town. When I made the move, I went from working mainly in the ER to working on a medical floor. From small hospital to medium hospital. From not so busy to running 12 hours straight. At the medium hospital, I also do infection control and prevention, which because I'm not quite right, just tickles me to no end. But after a while, I got to missing the ER and the people I used to work with and working in my own community. So, I started working at the old job again per diem. I now refer to it as my "spare job." I love my real job, and have no intention of leaving it, but I'm diggin' playing in the ER again.

And here's what I especially love about ER: beginning, middle, end. I find out what's wrong, work with the doctor to do what we can to fix it and then *shazam!* off my planet! There is a sense of completion in it, accomplishment, if you will. I was worried at first that I would have to relearn the routines and protocols, but after a couple of hours, it was like I never left! It was good to be back in the ER. And there wasn't even one stupid human trick to be found today! I love nursing!

stop being so damn proud of yourself.......

found out that a lady i thought i really helped at work on sunday didn't make it. she started going downhill fast on sunday morning. we busted ass, got on top of things quick, and i thought, turned her around.

well, i was off on monday and tuesday. i found out today that she started getting really bad again monday, and by that evening, they were transferring her to another hospital for dialysis. but it didn't do enough to turn her around.

i'm racking my brains for anything i could have picked up on sooner that could have made a difference, but i'm pretty sure i did all i could have. still, she was really nice. and her family was great. this is the part of the job that sucks..... when you lose em, no matter what you do.

no wonder nurses drink!!! lol....