It's only a job

This is my new mantra. Over and over I will repeat to myself : It's only a job, it's only a job, it's only a job, IT'S ONLY A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is not helping.

I feel as if I should be writing my EMT Internship blog instead.

I had a bad feeling that today would not be wonderful. The sort of bad feeling that plagues you, the sort where you know that the day will not be all flowers and butterflies.

At the hospital, we collect insurance cards for insurance purposes.

The players:
Co-worker A
Patient B
Me

There we are, it's a semi busy day. Sick and injured people are rolling in left and right. Today, no one is training me, so I'm about 95% running solo. Co-worker A supposedly (pay attention here to the word "supposedly") gives me Patient B's insurance card and license to make sure that his information is properly entered into the computer while Co-worker A goes off and talks to the supervisor about a previous patient's account that has been messed up (good indicator here that there is impending doom)

Well, a good while passes and soon enough Patient B is ready to go home. It is customary to give back ones insurance card when they are leaving, but wouldn't you know, Patients B's insurance card and license are gone. As in vanished. As in disappeared. As in....lost.

Co-worker A immediately turns to me and begins a barrage of questioning:
"what did you do with the cards?" (nothing)
"is it in your pockets?" (negative)
"did you give them back to the wrong patient?" (impossible)

And then, reverting back to my child hood days:
"I want you to sit down and think about where you could have placed it"

Deeming that I have not thought enough about where the cards could be, she then tells to sit and really think about where it could be.

Wracking my mind, I am desperately trying to think if I ever even saw the cards and if I did, what the heck I could have done with them. The ED is only so big. Insurance and license cards don't just up and vanish.

The situation turning drastic. Co-worker A calls our boss. Could this get any better?!?

In she comes. Co-worker is telling another Co-worker of my immense failure, but turns and tells me to tell our boss "what's going on". (as if there were a hostage situation at hand or something of that immense caliber)

She instructs us to tell Patient B that we're looking and an insane search of the department begins. Again. Co-worker A keeps telling me that I must have done something with the cards. Meanwhile, we're all searching through the trash, paper shredder, behind computers, exam rooms. Everywhere.

Then my boss calls me, and says at long last the cards have been found in a folder that is kept under a cabinet.

Guess who did it. NOT ME!! No, it was CO-WORKER A who took the cards and put them mistakenly in the WRONG FOLDER.

My boss felt so bad she hugged me. Co-worker A tried to apologize, and while I accept it, all the apologies in the world won't help me forget what happened, and from now on have a healthy distrust towards Co-worker A.

It's only a job.

If I only had a brain

I've been spending a lot of time learning everything there is to know at the Emergency Department. My wee brain has been jammed packed with information these last two weeks. I mean, I have spent hours in a little room with no windows learning a computer system, yet when I am faced with real life patients and real life emergencies, I feel as if I am moving in slow motion as I try to search my brain for information. Sometimes it comes, others, it does not. (It's getting better)

Today, I hear that a patient has been brought in via ambulance, and my supervisor tells me to come with her to watch the situation unfold.

Before me is a woman gasping in pain, trying to hold back tears. I quickly gather from her and the Paramedic who brought her in that she fell while hiking and is in desperate pain. Her right ankle is propped up, and as we gather information from her, all I can think is that she looks vaguely familiar. Suddenly, it pops to mind, shortly before she tells us her name.

Her husband is the one who gave me my beloved laptop. Why of course! I realize that I live in a small town, but come on....

Imagine how funny it then is when Mr. Laptop comes in. Hugs were shared, smiles were exchanged, and then I lead him to his wife's room and quietly mind my business for the rest of their visit. Turns out, her ankle was very broken and she had to go to surgery today.

I'm remembering once more the exhilarating feeling that comes when an emergency walks through the door. I love helping people get out of their cars, though the whole situation of them being in agony isn't thrilling for them, for me it's a whole experience, it's something to capture, hold on to, try and figure out what's going on with them and what's going to make them feel better.

At the same time though, it makes me really miss the hospital I did my Internship at. The ED I work in is like a super scaled down version of what I had become so accustomed to. However, it's a job, and it's a really good one.

Today alone, I saw:

• A man in a motorcycle wreck
• An asthma attack
• A man who fell while rock climbing and walked in the door with a very bloody face
• A child who fell and needed some stitches
• An ankle break (cool x-ray!!)
• Sprained knee
• Severe lower right quadrant pain (hello appendicitis!!)

Converse and Conversations

Two for one today!
______________

Two things you should know about me: I love the color purple and I love my purple converse shoes. ------------------->

I went down to Fort Collins today. As I'm standing in line at the store, with my items in tow, the elderly man ahead of me turns around and asks how I am doing. I respond that I am doing well.

He then proceeds to tell me about his son, who is a musician in California. My thoughts go on panic mode as I begin to process in my mind all of the horrible things people have said to before when bringing up their children. He then begins talking about how his son absolutely loves Converse shoes, and whenever he comes to visit him, they must go out to buy another pair.

I agree that the shoes are indeed wonderful. He comments that he has not seen many purple pairs around. I tell him, yes, that is correct, but man do I love my shoes. The checker continues to run his items through the scanner, listening to everything we say, whilst there is a growing line behind us.

He stops talking. I breathe easy. Then he asks, while stepping rather close to me:
"How old are you?"

I respond with my age.

He tells me that his son is fifty one (insert scream here) then he tells me that sadly, his grandchildren are also too old for me.

Then he shimmy's up even closer and tells me proudly:
"I'm eighty!"

And how do you respond to that? I feign shock and tell him, who knew, I'd never guess his age.

After wishing me a great day, he is on his way. Thank the good Lord.
__________________________________________________

I really don't like shoe salesmen. I find them to be annoying. They follow you around, pester you, and push you to buy their shoes. I on the other hand, like to browse. Yes, I am in the market for new shoes, but when my rolly poly salesman came up to me, I was subjected to a man who liked to converse and who was so large in size that once he sat down, he would not move until absolutely necessary.

After giving me shoes to try on, he asked if I am a Nurse (perhaps you can tell what profession one is in by the shoes they are buying) I respond that I am working my way into it.

He goes on to tell the tale of a friend of his who is a surgical nurse, who back in the "days of disco" took care of a man who broke his leg while boogying on the dance floor.

My salesman goes on to tell me that this man with the broken leg was adamant that the staff not take off his pants, no matter what. They then drugged him and discovered the reason why he was struggling with all his might with the staff.

He had taped, within his inner leg a "summer sausage", to "give him more bulge".

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Why, tell me WHY any person, let alone a complete stranger would think it okay to share this story?

Not okay. Totally awkward. No, no, no.

No.

All Wrong

There's this client who has come into the clinic for awhile now, and I always get stuck helping him. He's one of those men that makes a young woman uncomfortable. The kind who flirts with you in a round-about way, the kind who stares at you creepily, the kind who just comes across as too friendly.

He comes in today and asks me to refill his dog's medication. No problem, right? But because his dog is taking a steroid that needs to be used with great caution (as in, not giving him too much, not giving him too little, and not stopping it suddenly) I had to ask him a few questions first.

He answered, I say thanks, and go on my way to fill the prescription. And then, oh then he says: "Wait. I have a question for you."

Let's stop here a moment, and let me ask you a question: When someone says they have a question for you, how do you respond? You turn to the question asker and respond in formal fashion, giving them indication that you would like to hear the question at hand, right?

I do just that, in my normal, (or what I thought was normal up until today) voice, and he says:

"Whoa!! Not that kind of question!"

What?!? Please. This man is infinitely older than I am, shorter than I am, has long hair (yet is balding...lame look) and gives me the creeps.

Fail

Of laptops and men

If this entry doesn't take the cake for what my blog embodies, then nothing else will. The following story is entirely true.

For many years, I have desired a laptop. One that I could tote around with me to school, to coffee shops, to...anywhere. I've always wanted one, but never had the finances to splurge on one. Besides, I've had access to a desktop computer, and essentially though I really wanted a laptop, I didn't need a laptop.

However, as I progressed in school, the want actually turned into a need. On my 22nd birthday, a friend from work gave me her husband's old lap top. Unfortunately, it was the first laptop ever invented. It was old, ancient, rickety, prone to crashing, working slow and sometimes when I'd plug in the little card to connect to the Internet, it failed. This created a few embarrassing situations, and soon enough, the ancient lap top was rendered useless for school use.

Enter.....Mr. Client from my job at the veterinary clinic. Mr. Client is a retired dentist, and as is natural, was curious about my schooling, as I was slowly progressing into the medical world. One fateful day that got the ball rolling was a discussion on computers, and which ones were the best deal. We both decided that Macbooks were the way to go, and on his way he went.

Weeks later, Mr. Client comes back to the clinic with the proclamation that he has bought himself a Macbook. I ooed and awwed and congratulated him, and then, he tells me that he'd like to buy one for me.

I declined.

He then buys me a $1000 gift card from Apple so that I too may enjoy having a Macbook of my very own. Mind you, I have had zero, zilch, zip interaction with this man outside of work. So why then, give me this rather expensive gift? Because he once was a poor college student and he knows what it's like to be in my shoes. (.........)

Months passed by, and I simply could never be that selfish enough to just go and buy myself a laptop no matter how much I wanted it. It just never felt right. Friends and family encouraged me to just use it, or sell it. One suggested that I sell it and go to Hawaii with them. Try as I might though, I never had a good feeling about it, so I just left it in its envelope.

One evening, I get a call at home (how he got my number is beyond me) but he kindly requested the gift card back if I was not going to use it. Feeling as if a burden was lifted, I promptly mailed it back to his vacation home where he was wintering.

I was free and clear.

This past Tuesday, I officially decided that I was going to just buy a super cheap lap top to use for school this semester when I begin science pre-requisites as part of the Nursing program I one day intend on enrolling in. (For those of you who didn't know this....surprise!)

That afternoon, Mr. Client saunters into the clinic wearing dark aviator glasses. It's been months since I've seen him, and the first thing that he asks upon seeing me is if I'd settle for something other than a Macbook. I tell him that yes, actually, I'm planning on buying a Johnny-Cheap-o laptop.

He then tells me, (all while wearing those sun glasses)

"I may have something for you"

That being said, he tells me all about this laptop he has that is about a year and a half old of which he has no  further use for.  He did mention that it was first up for grabs to his brother-in-law, and I tell him that obviously family should always come first. (I immediately begin to imagine what piece of junk he's trying to pawn off to me)

He responds:

"You're practically family"

. . .

Today, he comes into the clinic, and says to the receptionists:

"Where's my little girl?"

Sounds coy, but guess what.... HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW MY NAME!!

The receptionists giving him a hard time ask him why they're not referring to them, and he simply tells them that they're his "mature girls" ......haha!!

Well, the receptionists bring me back this gorgeous barely used lap top, in amazing shape. In fact, I'm writing this little story with it right now.

So maybe this is a lesson.....you can always settle for less, but in the end, waiting is oh so much better.

Happy girl
:)

Kittens & Cats

My training "in the back" at work has been completed, and as a result the staff now trusts me to work by myself as a Tech, assisting the Doctors with....everything. Oftentimes, animal medicine is complicated (one reason being that they cannot speak) and it often leads to long laborious hours.

Today was my first Saturday rotation meaning: one Doctor, one Tech, and one receptionist. Saturday's are often unpredictable with strange cases coming in frequently, especially during the summer.

Our day went great, without a hitch. All my blood work I ran went without a hitch, vaccinations pulled up were all used, standard examinations went well, and all animals behaved themselves.

My doctor had just commented to me that when I'm up in reception it's pure madness, but now that I'm working as a Tech, things seemed to be relatively calm.

Famous last words.

A cat was brought in, having had three kittens 24 hours ago. However, she had begun contracting again. An x-ray showed that she did indeed have one more kitten inside. An ultrasound revealed that the kitten was not viable (alive) but that it had to be taken out, especially if just in case the kitten actually was alive.

The Doctor had never performed an emergency c-section surgery before as it is very uncommon, and I don't know a thing about monitoring anesthesia, very little about intubation, and even less about sterile requirements for surgery. We tried contacting the other Doctor's from the practice, but none answered. Therefore, we embarked on the surgery--my Doctor having no experience in this surgery and me not knowing much about....well, anything.

The surgery went extremely well. The Doctor removed the kitten from the mother, we peeled back all the surrounding goop it was encased in. I tried to recall everything I had learned from my EMT training about reviving a dead baby, but alas, the kitten was stillborn. I even listened to him with a tiny pediatric stethoscope, but no heartbeat was ausculated :(

We closed her up, and the surgery was over. She recovered rather quickly, and woke up, frantically pawing at us to let her out of her cage so that she could go back attending to her three mewing kittens. (They were very upset to be without their mother)

All ended well. But now I'm on call all weekend. Eek.

Immaturity

Below is a Facebook status about yours truly: (No doubt about it, even if the offending party tries to claim otherwise)


"Don't you hate it when there's something that you really want and you really want it for a long time and you're totally falling for it every time you see it and talk to it and then you learn more about it and you realize that you don't want it at all?"

First of all, don't ever refer to me as "it". Even if you want to be coy, and all secretive like. It's pretty much obvious what you're doing.

Second, don't be petty and put up Facebook status's about people who have hurt you or whatever you want to call it. That's for wee children and those whose maturity levels have not yet reached adult hood.

Sheesh. Awkward!


o_O