Personal Space and the Race to Replace
This is not exactly a nurse I'd like to run into in a dark hallway.
But she's right! It didn't hurt a bit!
One of the Emergiblog posts was accepted into the Carnival of the Vanities, hosted this week by The Hip and Zen Pen blog.
The topics are varied, and you can submit what you consider your best post for the week. I submitted my "Who Let The Dogs Out".
I felt a little strange submitting to a non-medical carnival, but I am in good company - "Doctor" (formerly of the Medical Madhouse - see sidebar link) is also represented! So if you are looking for a very eclectic group of bloggers, check it out!
I have never minded having to commute to work.
It gives me a chance to gear up , to change from wife/mom, maid/counselor, chauffeur and accountant/chef to my much easier job of working as registered nurse in an emergency department.
As I drive, I exercise my vocal repertoire of songs. I practice my harmonization techniques (I swear I could have been in the Eagles) and quite often give Steve Perry (formerly of Journey)
a run for his money in the high-note department.
Unfortunately, no one appreciates my talent.
I've had absolute strangers tell me to shut up as they drive by.
And this is with my windows closed.
But I digress....
I stop and pick up my 44 gazillion ounce Diet Pepsi that will last me all shift and assess the parking lot as I drive in and park in an area that, well, isn't exactly dedicated to the staff.
Now before I go on, let me tell you that when it is the end of my shift, which is usually sometime during the night or early morning, I give the oncoming nurse time to acclimate. Get a cup of coffee. Survey the department. Take a breath. I'm in no major hurry to leave, I know my relief is there and I don't want the oncoming nurse stressed the moment she walks into the unit.
I wish I had someone like that waiting for me when I got to work.
But no, I get Whirling Dervish, RN.
She meets me at the sliding doors and proceeds to follow me.
To the breakroom where I place my purse.
To the bathroom where I get my various accoutrements (pen, stethoscope, scissors, tape) out of my locker. Talking continuously the entire time, reporting on patients before I even know which assignment I have. I'm sure she would join me in the actual toilet but there is only room for one in the cubicle so she talks outside the door.
It wouldn't surprise me in the least if a chart was pushed under the door for my perusal while peeing. Which tends to be copious after all the Diet Pepsi.
After awhile she sounds like Charlie Brown's teacher: "wah, wah, wah-wah wah!"
I don't even think a Diprovan drip would settle her down. Must be why she works the day shift.
But that's a whole different topic........