I've had a stressful few weeks at work.
Lots of changes.
New people coming.
Patient load increasing.
Fun, fun, fun.
In the midst of all this drama, I will still say I love my job. However, I have also said a few other things lately while at work.
Tom to me on early Thursday morning: Hey, Andi! I'm going down to get a cinnamon roll.
Do you want me to get you one?
Me: Yes! It may improve my mood. I'm P.M.S.ing.....And, I'm not even playing about that.
Tom: Oh. Okay....Well, I'll get you a big one.
And he did. A great big ginormous one. And I ate every last bite.
A conversation between me and my boss.
Boss: Andi. Did you leave your crayons out and forget to clean them up?
Boss: Come here and look at this.
I dutifully walk over to bay 8 to see what the ruckus is.
Me: Oh. Well, that patient is still here. The IV went bad as they were about to start so the other nurse put one in quickly and I guess she didn't take time to put the stuff away.
Boss: Come on. It takes a second to throw away your trash. That is ridiculous.
Me: Listen. You need to lighten up. I'm in a bad mood today, and we can't have two people like that in one day.
And, thankfully she burst out laughing instead of writing me up for insubordination.
I have left work late for every day for almost two weeks straight. This wouldn't be such an issue, if I didn't fear my nanny will go work at Walmart where she will get to leave on time herself...My boss (who doesn't read this blog, please, Jesus, please, don't let her somehow have stumbled on this here bit of rambling) has been doing the early shift. She comes in at 6:30 and is leaving by 3pm every day. No matter where we stand patient load wise.
Me: Hey, do you want me to take the early shift for you?
Boss: Well, I don't know. Why?
Me: Well, I know you have a lot of office work you need to do, and since we've been short a nurse, you've had to be in staffing, so I was wondering if you needed me to take the early shift so you wouldn't need to leave so early every day....(I CAN be diplomatic....for about 5 seconds)
Because I really don't think it's possible for you to do your job and leave at 3 every day....
Are you cringing yet? I am. I wish I could pretend that none of these were real. But, sadly they are.
A conversation between me and two anesthesiologists.
Background: We were doing a procedure I do maybe every 6 months...
Dr K: Okay, I want you to draw some blood out of the left AC (that's elbow for you non-medical folk)
Me: You want me to draw it. (voice is uncertain and slightly confused)
Dr. K: Sure!
Me: I thought you put in the IV for the blood draw.
Dr. K: I did.
Me: But you want me to draw it out of the AC.
Dr. K: Yes.
So, I mentally rolled my eyes and dashed down the hall to get lab supplies and dashed back and draw the blood.
Me: Here you go! (In my normal cheerful voice)
Dr K: Oh. I don't want the blood now. We're nowhere near ready for it.
Me: Okay. (Getting a little frustrated here. I expected him to draw the blood because he was sterile.) I guess I'll just agitate it....And I begin to tilt the syringe back and forth in a continuous motion....
Machines are humming....
Music is playing on XM radio over head.
Dr K: mpfjpldkpme fentanyl mopepoj;dhrpf
Me: Do you want me to give the patient some fentanyl?
Dr K: *crickets chirping*
Me: Did you say fentanyl?
Time passes by, I continue to agitate the syringe, thus being very limited in my ability to chart what is going on.
Dr. K: apfjelrhjaptyhadkfnaskldf fentanyl maofdifjoefjpeohadlkfjads;f
Me: DID YOU SAY YOU WANT ME TO GIVE HER SOME FENTANYL?
Dr. K: Yes.
Me: grrrrr...Okay. I have to get some....I dash to the next room to get the fentanyl and draw it up, and administer it....
Time continues to pass by. I continue to agitate the bloody (literally here) syringe....
Dr K: Alright! Dr. G, you have it from here. I'll see you guys later.
Dr. G: Okay, Andi, I'm ready for the blood.
I walk around the table, and hold out the infamous syringe of well agitated blood.
He stares at me.
He pulls his hand back and refuses to touch me.
Dr. G: Ummm. Is that sterile? You're not sterile. That blood has to be sterile.
I nearly burst into flames spontaneously. I have on a surgical hat. I'm wearing a mask. He can only see my eyes....
I stare at him........
Me: Okay......(breathe in and out) We (another deep breath to control the scream that is building in my throat) are having (relax, don't say anything rude) some communication issues here today. (Gentle Reader, in our environment, the doctors are sterile. Never the nurses...A little explanation goes a long way sometimes)
I glared at him some more, carried away my stupid agitated syringe full of blood that I had worked diligently for 30 minutes to not allow to clot and THREW it in the biohazard box. After all, there were no doors to slam in this scenario. I then walked back to the patient, prepped her skin and drew her blood using sterile gloves with a sterile syringe and handed it over to him very steril-ly.
Without a word.
I know. Pretty amazing.
Sometimes I'm capable of not rambling at all.
But only sometimes.