(no subject)
I worked with out newest medic Sarah today. We just love working together because we share the desire to make everything: Perfect. When I told her the other day that I wasn't sure how secure my job was she gave me a lecture about how much my partners love working with me. She sees me as uber confident, good with both patients and nurses, calm, stable, hard working, and experienced. Every now and then I adore hearing about my good qualities, even though I feel that the praise is undeserved. :)
We had a long call in Oakland, which is just about my least favorite town on the planet. When we were around the corner from the hospital Sarah apparently wasn't driving fast enough. When we stopped at a red light a big scary dude in the mercedes behind us got out of his car, ran to her window, started pounding on it with his fists, and screamed nasty profanities at her. This is not uncommon there from my experience. In my lovely Santa Cruz it is considered rude to even honk your horn. Anyway, we always lock our doors there and expect lots of uncivilized behavior. I caught myself giving that dude a totally disgusted disapproving glare and worried that he might be armed. Ugh.
After, we had a trauma patient who was super high on morphine. As I prepared to pull the gurney off the ambulance at the end of the call, I warned him that he'd feel a couple of bumps. As soon as the gurney was off the rig, he apologized with great conviction. I asked him why, and he confessed that, "his foot had touched my boobie." I laughed and told him that those weren't the bumps I'd warned him about. As I left him in the crowded ER he shouted out, "I'm sorry I touched your boobie!!!" It was hilarious!
Work is leaving me sore, but I'm lifting ridiculously heavy patients with no knee pain. I'm just delighted. I lifted a 380 pounder on our 100 pound gurney yesterday with no pain. It's hard, but I can do it. If you ever need an ortho surgeon I know a good one...
My favorite partner has been on leave taking care of his father who's been dying of brain cancer. The hospice nurses weren't doing a very good job, so Bill decided to take on all his nursing care. I've been getting texts for the past few days about how much the old guy was suffering. This afternoon I finally I got the message that he died. We all love Bill and hate that he's grieving over his father. I miss working with him; he's my work spouse after all! But I sincerely hope that he takes a week or two to grieve before he comes back to us. The old guy was completely ready to go, thank goodness; I'm just sorry that Bill had to see it happen.
Picked up new uniforms yesterday. My old ones were too tight and threadbare. My new ones are the same size but they feel way better and look super good. Glad I didn't opt for something that encourages my increased girth too much. I feel much more professional in something that looks good.
Catherine and I are working on her next round of assignments. I'm hooked; studies on autism are fascinating. Here's her blog if you are interested.
She's leaving in a couple of weeks for 10 days in Ireland to deal with Stuff. I'm happy to take care of the kids in her absence. I'm dreading the time apart. And I'm scared to death that she won't be let back into the country even though her papers are in order. It happens, you know; some agent goes all premenstrual and *poof* lives are totally screwed up. Immigrants have no recourse. I'm scared to death every time she goes back there. I just wish I could marry her and be done with it.
We had a long call in Oakland, which is just about my least favorite town on the planet. When we were around the corner from the hospital Sarah apparently wasn't driving fast enough. When we stopped at a red light a big scary dude in the mercedes behind us got out of his car, ran to her window, started pounding on it with his fists, and screamed nasty profanities at her. This is not uncommon there from my experience. In my lovely Santa Cruz it is considered rude to even honk your horn. Anyway, we always lock our doors there and expect lots of uncivilized behavior. I caught myself giving that dude a totally disgusted disapproving glare and worried that he might be armed. Ugh.
After, we had a trauma patient who was super high on morphine. As I prepared to pull the gurney off the ambulance at the end of the call, I warned him that he'd feel a couple of bumps. As soon as the gurney was off the rig, he apologized with great conviction. I asked him why, and he confessed that, "his foot had touched my boobie." I laughed and told him that those weren't the bumps I'd warned him about. As I left him in the crowded ER he shouted out, "I'm sorry I touched your boobie!!!" It was hilarious!
Work is leaving me sore, but I'm lifting ridiculously heavy patients with no knee pain. I'm just delighted. I lifted a 380 pounder on our 100 pound gurney yesterday with no pain. It's hard, but I can do it. If you ever need an ortho surgeon I know a good one...
My favorite partner has been on leave taking care of his father who's been dying of brain cancer. The hospice nurses weren't doing a very good job, so Bill decided to take on all his nursing care. I've been getting texts for the past few days about how much the old guy was suffering. This afternoon I finally I got the message that he died. We all love Bill and hate that he's grieving over his father. I miss working with him; he's my work spouse after all! But I sincerely hope that he takes a week or two to grieve before he comes back to us. The old guy was completely ready to go, thank goodness; I'm just sorry that Bill had to see it happen.
Picked up new uniforms yesterday. My old ones were too tight and threadbare. My new ones are the same size but they feel way better and look super good. Glad I didn't opt for something that encourages my increased girth too much. I feel much more professional in something that looks good.
Catherine and I are working on her next round of assignments. I'm hooked; studies on autism are fascinating. Here's her blog if you are interested.
She's leaving in a couple of weeks for 10 days in Ireland to deal with Stuff. I'm happy to take care of the kids in her absence. I'm dreading the time apart. And I'm scared to death that she won't be let back into the country even though her papers are in order. It happens, you know; some agent goes all premenstrual and *poof* lives are totally screwed up. Immigrants have no recourse. I'm scared to death every time she goes back there. I just wish I could marry her and be done with it.