"Don't Touch Anything..."

What a crappy weekend. The aggravating half of it was playing waitress to two floor patients without beds on the floor to transfer them to. Two patients who both need to be fed a total of six meals within eight hours. I didn't even feed my own kids that much. Mr. P. basically needed a bath after each meal cause he's a helper and wants to feed himself faster than the speed of light. Unfortunately his help ended up all over the bed, the floor, his gown, his hair... And the docs, knowing that these patients are floor borders in an ICU take full advantage of that, constantly spitting out STAT orders from some secret, undisclosed location, never talking with the nurses and each order contradicts the orders already written.

I'm not even going to mention other bodily functions and the fact that each patient is well over 200 lbs., or the fact that their visitors did not understand the concept of a garbage can, or a call light, and are unable to grasp the technology of a remote control for the television. By all means, call me in from whatever else I'm doing to change the channel for you, Mr. Visitor. In the ICU we have no other help, no aides, so it's you and your assignment; good freakin' luck with that.

The tragic half of the weekend was the 21yo brought in with a gunshot wound to the head from an AK-47. His nurse was young, wanting to fix this and wanting the family to be happy. There's no fixing to be done. I hope she goes to see her mom today and gets TLC for her bruised heart.

I plan to walk today, commune with God a bit, read about firefighter injuries and fatalities for a meeting tomorrow with one of the township fire chiefs for our class project on near-miss surveys. And the class lecture on Wednesday is occupational dermatitis. I assume they mean Cooties. So there is reading to be done. I'll keep the news off and perhaps put Mad Men on. No weapons there, just cases among cases of good old-fashioned booze.

Friday evening HoneyHaired and I went to the ballet, Sleeping Beauty, at the historic Music Hall with the ballet orchestra playing--always a treat. As a huge fan of the Disney classics and Little Golden Books of the 1960's, I loved, loved, loved, loved, loved Sleeping Beauty. In fact, one of the reasons I love my neighborhood are the three little Flora, Fauna and Merriweather houses up the street. When I had two baby girls we watched the video frequently and know the music by heart.

Here is the same piece of music, different interpretations and luscious both ways--


  1. It is good that you know some techniques to replenish your spirit. Hard won wisdom, I'm sure.

  2. Not to change the subject, (who am I kidding?), but, I'm Not Really a Waitress, is one of my favorite shades of OPI nail polish.

    Sometimes I miss the ICU, but when I do, I have only to visit here for a reality check.

  3. Dear ER--too true and learned after one too many hangovers :>)
    and Rudee, one of my fav nail polishes, especially since I was a waitress for many, many years--cocktails and got tips. :>)

  4. You're my number one candidate for sainthood. Hang in there.

  5. Those three chubby little fairy godmothers constitute my primary memory of my first viewing of "Sleeping Beauty" at the Delman Theater in Tulsa, OK with my mother. I'm fairly certain that I had the box of those shiny cardboard sheets upon which one stuck the plasticky cutout forms of the three fairies... What was that called--Colorforms?

    I hope that your course on cooties teaches preemptive strategies... Could you pass them on?

  6. It is wonderful that you take the time to enjoy fantasy. Probably double important, with the daily job you do.


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