Was happily munching on my vending machine dinner when Cheery Nurse walked by with her Bulgarian yoghurt-infused cucumber salad and said, "Oh, by the way did you know night nurses get more bowel and stomach cancers than any other profession because of how they eat? Happy munching!"
Night duty, so no Hot doctor. Just me and the orderlies and the interns sleeping in the on-call room. I don't know why all the medical TV shows have people having sex in there all the time. The place smells like antiseptic, nicotine and puke. It's like sleeping in a prison cot.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Who needs friends?
My roommate (Nurse Friend) says the new gynae is a waste, because male gynaes are perpetual bachelors. Her reasoning? She quoted a TV show of some kind:
"It's like the year I spent working at a coffee shop. After a month, I felt like if I saw one more cup of coffee I could hurl."
Nice one, Nurse Friend. I hate you now.
New patient on ward. He's seventy. He was a single dad at a time where no one was a single dad. He's got four kids and they decorate his room and comb his hair and harass all the oncology nurses until they get pissed. I like him. He's got the same bright blue eyes as my grandpa and shows us pictures and comments on the TV shows like they are real people. And he flirts. "I want a nurse in a mini-skirt. I'm paying enough as it is."
He's having a hard time breathing because of his white blood cell count. "But I'll fight it," he says when we try to talk to talk to him about hospice, and pats his daughters' hands.
"He's a tough guy," they all assure us and we look at each other really knowingly.
"It's like the year I spent working at a coffee shop. After a month, I felt like if I saw one more cup of coffee I could hurl."
Nice one, Nurse Friend. I hate you now.
New patient on ward. He's seventy. He was a single dad at a time where no one was a single dad. He's got four kids and they decorate his room and comb his hair and harass all the oncology nurses until they get pissed. I like him. He's got the same bright blue eyes as my grandpa and shows us pictures and comments on the TV shows like they are real people. And he flirts. "I want a nurse in a mini-skirt. I'm paying enough as it is."
He's having a hard time breathing because of his white blood cell count. "But I'll fight it," he says when we try to talk to talk to him about hospice, and pats his daughters' hands.
"He's a tough guy," they all assure us and we look at each other really knowingly.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Cute Doctor
OK, the new gynae has arrived. And surprisingly, he looks good. I noticed him to talking to Triage-Nurse-with-attitude earlier. She was surprisingly upbeat for a change. (This was the woman who practically taped a sign to her desk that says, "Yes, I can fucking SEE you have an emergency" so that the bleeding masses wouldn't bother her as she plays various card games on her PC.) a) it's really hard to come up with something funky after working 7 nights in a row;
and b) nurses are nurses because their creative skills are...lacking.We eventually decided on...
Hot Doctor.
I know I should be less excited, but in four years the only people that have hit on me have included: ex-boyfriend Victor, Lesbian Nurse and a HCA named Gary who ended up leaving the job to become a panelbeater.
New New Year's resolution is to speak to Hot Doctor as soon as I have something interesting to say about vaginas. Vaginas in general. Not my vagina, specifically. Although I'm all for icebreakers.
Who am I, why I blog, why you should care
I am a nurse and I work for Hell's Hospital. That's not the real name of the hospital.
I'm not allowed to give you the Real Name of the Hospital, or anyone in it, because like any form of Hell, they have a surplus of lawyers. And come to think of it - doctors.
I'm 26 and although I love my job, I also hate it. Because on one hand you have the whole healing New Age good kharma care-for-those-who-need-it thing but on the other hand, you also work 12 hours a day and get poop in your hair.
I was inspired to write this blog after my colleague, Cheery Nurse, sent me a poem. Now before I start, I need to say a little something about Cheery Nurse. Cheery is not my friend but we are inevitably thrown together from time to time. The reason we are not, cannot, and will never be friends is:
1. She believes in Holistic Nursing.
Not doesn't she smoke or drink or consume vast amounts of the cellulite-inducing caffeine brews from the cafeteria LIKE A NORMAL PERSON, she also believes in the power of lavender and whale song as a means of pallitive care.
2. The e-mail "poems" she sends me
Even though she never seems to have five minutes to clean her station, she somehow miraculously pulls together enough spare time to create (and forward) 5-minute long powerpoint e-mail forwards that take about 2 years' to download and then blast "What a Wonderful World" at full volume JUST as Nurse Matron Ratched approaches from the hallway.
This was the poem I received in my inbox this morning...please use the power of your imagination to add the accompanying images of Jesus, white doves flying towards the light, hands folded in prayer and prayer beads draped worshipfully over an open Bible:
There are times in our lives when we sit down and wonder where our lives will lead us.
Sometimes we get so caught up in our jobs that we forget what we truly represent.
We get frustrated, aggravated, pushed to the limits and so mentally tired that we feel what is the use in being a Nurse.
But then someone gives us a weak smile or holds our hand and may say "thank you, you are so special."
The we feel the warmth growing in our hearts.
All the bad feelings disappear and replaced by the core values that we present:
human dignity, compassion, dedication, integrity, stewardship, leadership and excellence.
So when the bad feelins begin to show take the times to say this prayer:
Lord, help me to bring comfort where there is pain.
Courage where there is despair.
Acceptance when the end is near.
A touch gentle with tenderness, patience, and love.
And, always remember, all Nurses are truly blessed.
For you see --- God gave of Hearts of Gold.
Mmmhmmm. I have a little poem of my own to counter that experience, using the ancient Japanese art form of the Haiku.
Vomit.
Beep Beep.
Spit. Beep. Blood.
On call.
Fuck.
I'm not allowed to give you the Real Name of the Hospital, or anyone in it, because like any form of Hell, they have a surplus of lawyers. And come to think of it - doctors.
I'm 26 and although I love my job, I also hate it. Because on one hand you have the whole healing New Age good kharma care-for-those-who-need-it thing but on the other hand, you also work 12 hours a day and get poop in your hair.
I was inspired to write this blog after my colleague, Cheery Nurse, sent me a poem. Now before I start, I need to say a little something about Cheery Nurse. Cheery is not my friend but we are inevitably thrown together from time to time. The reason we are not, cannot, and will never be friends is:
1. She believes in Holistic Nursing.
Not doesn't she smoke or drink or consume vast amounts of the cellulite-inducing caffeine brews from the cafeteria LIKE A NORMAL PERSON, she also believes in the power of lavender and whale song as a means of pallitive care.
2. The e-mail "poems" she sends me
Even though she never seems to have five minutes to clean her station, she somehow miraculously pulls together enough spare time to create (and forward) 5-minute long powerpoint e-mail forwards that take about 2 years' to download and then blast "What a Wonderful World" at full volume JUST as Nurse Matron Ratched approaches from the hallway.
This was the poem I received in my inbox this morning...please use the power of your imagination to add the accompanying images of Jesus, white doves flying towards the light, hands folded in prayer and prayer beads draped worshipfully over an open Bible:
There are times in our lives when we sit down and wonder where our lives will lead us.
Sometimes we get so caught up in our jobs that we forget what we truly represent.
We get frustrated, aggravated, pushed to the limits and so mentally tired that we feel what is the use in being a Nurse.
But then someone gives us a weak smile or holds our hand and may say "thank you, you are so special."
The we feel the warmth growing in our hearts.
All the bad feelings disappear and replaced by the core values that we present:
human dignity, compassion, dedication, integrity, stewardship, leadership and excellence.
So when the bad feelins begin to show take the times to say this prayer:
Lord, help me to bring comfort where there is pain.
Courage where there is despair.
Acceptance when the end is near.
A touch gentle with tenderness, patience, and love.
And, always remember, all Nurses are truly blessed.
For you see --- God gave of Hearts of Gold.
Mmmhmmm. I have a little poem of my own to counter that experience, using the ancient Japanese art form of the Haiku.
Vomit.
Beep Beep.
Spit. Beep. Blood.
On call.
Fuck.
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