Current Events

There's not much going on around here these days--including blogging!

Christmas has been put away, but the sewing room is still a disaster.

I've been going through boxes and bins and culling out craft items to give away. A blogging friend with 4 kiddos can use them, and I am happy to clear out all the unused supplies and the guilt that goes with them! One box is full and I'm looking for another box at work to bring home.

In my search, I've found UFOs I'd forgotten even existed. There are enough projects and fabric to last me a couple of years, at least, and that's if I get my butt in gear before spring gets here for good. It's been such a mild winter, I've been itching to get outside and start planting, but really, it's too soon.

Work has been busy the last few weeks. It's the season. In addition it seems there's always some inservice or staff meeting or mandatory meeting to attend. Funny, they don't want us to bring our personal lives to work, but they don't mind inserting their meetings into our personal lives! Agghh!

Also on the agenda for the next few weeks: Tandi. She tore the ligament in her right back leg and will have surgery next week. It's going to cost a pretty penny, but we can't just not fix it. She's only 7 1/2 years old, with probably another 7-8 years left, and if we don't fix this leg, she'll be at greater risk to injure the other back leg.

I'm looking for doggy steps to get her off and on the bed and sofa, as she inevitably jumps and could reinjure the leg. We're gradually reducing the radius on her fence collar, too, as the surgeon prefers she be on a leash to go outside to potty, but with my work schedule, and Jack's limitations, it just isn't possible every time.

We've pulled the crate into the living room and will start putting her in it now and then to get her used to spending time in there again. This situation will last for 6 weeks--which seems like a reeeallllyy long time to try to keep her calm and inactive. When she feels good, which doesn't occur much these days, she runs pell-mell down the front steps, plays fetch with her squeaky football, runs barking up and down the yard when the big brown truck or the postal worker appear, and dances for treats. Once the leg is fixed, she'll start feeling good long before she's allowed to show it. I'm seriously considering asking the vet for something to keep her sleepy the days I have to sleep, so maybe I could just bring her to bed with me and still get some shut-eye myself.

Bless her heart, it's hard to see her limping around. She never whimpers, never yelps, and was so resigned when the vets manipulated her leg and drew her labs.

I can't wait to have my sweet little companion steal my socks again.

Challenges

Long, boring post ahead. Feel free to move on to happier blogs. I won't be offended. In fact, I might just do the same thing.



These days, my mental state is ragged and tired and ugly. I am hard to be around; I live in the negative. I didn't want that to show through online, so blogging has been very sparse this last month. What posts there have been were shallow and space-fillers. Is that fair? Is it better to try to smooth over the rough spots and keep things as light and cheerful as possible or is it a better thing to be honest about your state of mind? Maybe the correct answer is somewhere in-between. Moderation in all things.

Autumn has always been a time of renewal for me. The crispness of its air and the vibrancy of its colors always seem to smooth my rough edges, even as I get wild and crazy about Halloween. I need that right now; it's been a rocky summer.

There have been concerns about my daughter's physical and emotional health, and J-Man, due to his partial paralysis, has seemed to endure more falls than usual. (The stroke, by the way, was 30 years ago this Labor Day Weekend.) A change in management has resulted in a lot of mistrust, a HUGE turnover in staff, and a persistent cloud over the unit. I have been looking for other employment, but in this small area, nursing jobs for which I am qualified and in which I have at least a passing interest, are not in abundance. Moving from one lousy situation into an equally lousy, and unknown, situation isn't the answer. Limbo (4. a place or state of imprisonment or confinement) isn't a great place to reside. (My current address is 911 Limbo Lane, Indecision Island, thank you very much.)

So changes must be in order: changes in attitude? viewpoint? place of work? priorities? management? Nah, that's not gonna happen.

A change of attitude is my best bet, with priorities a close second. What's that saying? If you can't change a situation, you need to change your attitude about the situation?

Here's to hot apple cider, crunchy leaves and mellow golden-lit days. They can't come too soon.

Any Help Appreciated

This is just a quick post to ask if any of my readers are medical transcriptionists? I'm wanting to get started on a PRN or part-time basis, in order to supplement my current income, work into substituting a shift at work for it, and then to do it after I retire--hopefully in about 5 years. But I have questions.

If you could email me at cloudtoucher1@gmail.com, I'd certainly be grateful!
Thanks, all!

Back in Action

On my 3-night stretches at work, it seems all I get done is work and sleep, work and sleep, much to Tandi's dismay. This week was so horrendously busy, I didn't even get to check Google Reader during the usual "quiet" hours of 2-4am. As a result, I had over 130 posts to peruse! You folks have been really chatty the last few days! So I'm trying hard to catch up, leave comments to let you know that yes, I'm still interested in what you do, and get ready to participate in Judy Laquidara's Quiltathon this weekend.

I need the therapy of fabric after the last few days. There has been a serious situation at work this week that may really change our workplace. No patient was harmed, but there was an inadvertent privacy violation involving a patient whose spouse is a physician and whose daughter works with the HIPPA folks--you know, the folks responsible for those privacy forms you have to fill out every time you go to a different physician or hospital or clinic, etc.

It was an innocent mistake; said daughter called to find out where her parent was, as no one was answering the phone in the room. The nurse told her the parent was downstairs having a procedure done. However, it was a chaotic day, they were short-handed as usual, and the nurse didn't stop to verify the daughter's identity. Said daughter was furious. She and her physician parent went to the HIPPA people as well as our administrator, and there was a big pow-wow. The gist of it is, the HIPPA people will probably be at the hospital door on Monday morning, and our unit manager might lose her job.

I know the nurse who made the mistake; she's a terrific gal and just got back from 6 weeks sick leave. I'm sure she was feeling overwhelmed and just didn't think. I also have a sneaking suspicion this was a set-up by the patient's daughter, as the family had not arranged a password, and all but one of them is involved in the medical field in some way, so they are aware of the advisability of setting up a password.

As for our unit manager, well, I believe she is just the sacrificial lamb. The-Powers-That-Be-Idiots have been riding her about budget, and we have been working terribly short the last few weeks. I've been put on call one of my shifts each week for the last 3 weeks--that's a 24-hr shortage, or one-third of my paycheck gone. My manager has worked until 7 or 8pm, then been back by 4am to help out--and has come in herself, rather than let someone come back in on overtime. She paid for our competency blitz at the lodge out of her own bonus. She's a terrific advocate of both her patients and her staff.

I think they've been looking for ways to get rid of her.

In all the years I've been a nurse (and that is 37 and counting, my friends) I have seen this over and over again. You get a good manager who really cares about his/her patients and his/her staff, works hard to promote quality care, education and team building, and Upper (mis)Management boots them out, because she doesn't play their games. The crappy managers cut corners, play the short staffing game, inspire rapid turnover, and hire any warm body to fill the holes, regardless of experience or qualifications. Morale plummets, and patient care suffers, but Upper (mis)Management loves these brown-nosers.

It's never going to change.

So I do my 12 hours the best I can, keep my head down, make waves only when I am too riled up to overlook things, don't volunteer for anything, and count the years to my retirement.

In the meantime, I kiss my husband, love my daughter long distance, hug that four-legged furbaby who is overjoyed to see me every morning, and soothe myself with little sharp objects that go in and out of colorful fabrics.

Bits and Pieces...

...of that ordinary life of mine.

First, look what came in my mail Monday afternoon:

It's from Pinky, who won my 200th post/birthday giveaway back in August, as a thank-you. She loves to make aprons, so she made one for me, with long enough ties to go around my generous waist! I put it on that evening to cook, and promptly got something on it, so had to wash it before I could show it to you. (Something tells me this one's gonna show a lot of wear and tear before long.) It's made from a scrub top--can you tell? So clever! Thanks, Pinky!

I couldn't post about it yesterday, because we had an all-day competency test/social for work. Our manager, who is over both ICU and Telemetry, put this together at a church lodge on a lake about an hour's drive from the hospital. At first, I was a little grumbly about having to go to something work-related while on vacation, but I found out she paid for it out of her bonus--the bonus all managers get if they come in below budget for the year.

We've never had a manager do anything like this before--they always seem to be pushing us to work as a skeleton crew, so their bonus will be bigger, and we've always resented it. I clash with this manager sometimes, but she is a good person, and she makes sure to schedule a shift now and then so that she doesn't lose touch with us trench-dwellers.

This was well-planned, with required skill stations set up for us to breeze through, and annual TB testing done. After lunch was fun and games, with karaoke (my first!) and ice-breakers. The gal I rode down with needed to leave early, so we didn't stay for the Accreditation tug'o'war, nor the candlelight dinner.

Thinking it might be boring, I carried along some handwork, but only got a few stitches put in. It was a beautiful day, all crisp and colorful, and there was a lot of laughter and lots of photos taken by those who remembered to bring their cameras. Not moi.

Today we woke up to cold and steady rain. It was a great day for sewing and listening to books on tape. My little hummingbird friend paid several visits today:

I thought they'd be all gone further south by now, but maybe he doesn't leave as early as the rest. I'll keep putting the sugar liquid out there as long as he keeps coming.


I started a wild Halloween tabletopper for a friend at work. She and her husband love to ride motorcycles (and they're probably late 40s or early 50s), so when I saw the fabric a couple of years back, I knew I had to have it for her.


It took me a long time to figure out how to make it work, and thankfully, I had enough to fussy-cut one of each of the figures. I got it to a flimsy stage today, so I guess tomorrow I'll cut the backing and batting. The backing will be the rest of the flames fabric, as I can't think of anything else I would ever use it for.


The green fabric was a happy mistake. I had something else I was going to use, and make the rectangles wonky, but it just didn't work after I starting putting it together. That green star burst (or whatever it is) fat quarter was just in my stash, but not enough to do wonky. When I cut strips from the fabric, it really seemed to scream "collision" around the fussy cuts, and that was how I opted to orient the direction of the cyclists. And yes, those are dog bones in one of the strips, but they love dogs, and it was black and white, so in it went, too.

It turned out rather large, and it's not exactly square (37" x 35"), but I think she'll like it. She loves wild colors. You should see some of the scrub tops she wears!

The weather seemed made to order for the first chili of the season, so I cooked a big batch, along with some bread machine herbed bread. I haven't harvested my herbs to dry, yet, so I cut some thyme and added it to the mix. Even J-Man, who doesn't like a lot of herbs and spices, thought it was pretty good.


I always chop up onions to cook in the chili, but we also like some raw onion sprinkled on top, along with a generous helping of grated cheddar cheese:


We're going to bed with tummies full tonight.

Finished and Delivered!

Hallelujah, let the rejoicing commence!

I didn't get called in last night, so was able to sleep and get up about 0600 and get started on my day. Karen's suggestion led me to my final decision--and that was to turn the quilt to the backside and quilt from there. If you remember my version of Judy Laquidara's Labor Day Challenge, you know I'm a bit anal retentive--the kind of child who always colored within the lines--so trying to think of motifs to fit the modified rail fence pattern had me at a stall.
(In my defense, though, I think part of the trouble I had with the LD challenge was using a striped fabric as the wonky center. If I'd used an allover pattern, I think I would have been less disturbed.)
I always underestimate how much time things are going to take, so I didn't finish sewing until 4:30pm--and the baby shower at work was at 3:00 pm. So I went ahead and tossed it in the washer and dryer, took a shower myself, and just met her at 7pm at the end of her shift.

I wasn't real happy with the quilting; I'm still such a beginner at free motion and the fabric gets stuck, then releases, and then I have all these huge stitches, or a bite out of the heart. Here are a couple of close-ups:



The quilting seemed too far apart in some places, and to tie it all together, I quilted loops and circles to get from one object to another, but I think the variegated pink thread was too light and showed too many mistakes.
But hey, I wasn't starting over, nosirree!


And wouldn't you know it?--Jenny's a quilter! I almost snatched it back right then and there. I would rather an uneducated eye look it over, but she's a fairly new quilter herself, and could appreciate all the hard work I put into those mistakes. Seems she made her older child a Yellow Brick Road quilt and has made one for the baby-to-be who is still Nameless.

So we talked quilts all the way to her car as we carried all her gifts down. It'll probably be a couple of months before I see her again, because her due date is 10/8 and did I mention I'M ON VACATION?!! for the next 18 days! Woohooo!!

Sometime during this vacation we were supposed to go to our timeshare in Myrtle Beach for a few days, but folks, we have no gasoline in our little town. Seriously. Some places haven't had any since just before Ike, but an Exxon station I passed on the way to the hospital tonight had about 40 cars in line, and when I came home 2 hours later--no more gas. I'm down to 1/4 of a tank, because I filled up just a day or two before the Ike rush, and haven't been able to fill up since. We have a full 1-gallon container and a full 5-gallon container in the garage--and that's it.

So this may well turn out to be a stay-at-home vacation. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I haven't seen the ocean in 2 years and I've been looking forward to getting away. My list of things to do around here is pretty long, and I can always make a dent in the UFOs, but I did yearn for a little ocean breeze, and some fresh seafood.

Ah well, I still have 18 nights of NO WORK!

Pass the kahlua!

A Cure for What Ails Me

I am SO relieved to be here at home, indulging (ahem--busy) in some fabric therapy, after the week I've had at the (looney bin) hospital. Something is afflicting that little place--staff, physicians, visitors and patients. And I don't mean a physical virus, either.

This week I've seen brothers and sisters feuding over who is worthy and responsible enough to be mom's power of attorney, in charge of her care, and probably, her property. And I'm not sure if mom is ignorant of it all, playing it up, or just passively letting them do it.




I've seen an employee put on call due to low census, but be unavailable when we needed her to come in--for the second time in less than a week--and seemingly get away with it.

I've had an old WWII vet, who has never been the same mentally since the war, grab my throat in a warning to not bother him with petty heart medications while he's trying to sleep--and not remember the incident 16 hours later.

I've spent hours of one-on-one nursing all night pumping blood and fluids into a post-op patient sporting a whopping 50/0 blood pressure whose (addle-brained lunkhead) physician refused to transfer her to ICU. And then saw her sit up, call her boyfriend, and ask me what was for breakfast.

I have been the Princess of Poop/Duchess of Doo-Doo/Conquerer of Caca, then talked quilts and crafts with a patient and her daughter, and eaten a chocolate cupcake with blue icing--all in the same night.




Tonight J-Man took me to a little Mexican restaurant for supper, partly, I think, to make up for waking me an hour and a half early yesterday afternoon with the smoke alarm. ( He forgot the burner was on high.) The meal was so-so, (by New Mexico standards, and the salsa wasn't any where near thick and hot enough, but the fried ice cream we shared was pretty good.


And for the next 3 days, I am refusing to answer the phone. I let it be known I have no intention of darkening the door of that place, unless I am wheeled in on a stretcher. They'll call anyway. They always do.




So I've had Kate Havnevik on the CD player and have been preparing my version of the 4 Seasons Quilt Swap for Summer. I haven't finished my swap quilt, but before putting the fabrics back in their bins to multiply while I am not looking, I decided to go ahead and cut the strips for my wallhanging.

I'll post photos after I've finished my partner's.

Tonight seems like a Dido/Havnevik/Norah Jones type of night--except I don't have any of Norah's CD's yet. It's on my wish list for my birthday. Sometimes it's a Sarah Brightman/Andre Bocelli kind of day, or a Delilah love songs night, or time to listen to "The Point" again.




Judy Martin had a blurb in her last newsletter of the Pandora music station. Have you checked it out yet? It's pretty cool. You just go to www.pandora.com and post the name of your favorite artist or a favorite song. Then they analyze the artist or song or album and play songs that fall into those general categories. You can click on the little album logo and give a thumbs up or thumbs down to the current song and they will adjust your music selections. You can design several stations, and with a button, you can mix the two. So far I have a "Barry Manilow" station that plays a lot of Lionel Richie, Manilow, etc. and a Dido station that plays Dido and Jewel and Frou Frou and Norah Jones. If the computer were in my craft room, (and if it wasn't older than Henry VIII) I'd probably have it on most of the time.




What do you listen to when you're crafting/sewing/quilting?

The Natives are Restless Tonight

Well, it's 1:30 am at work, the air conditioning is off for 4 hours and we are out of fans. Patients are not happy. Maintenance is not happy. Nurses are not happy.

In addition, one of our nursing assistants was fired this week and is threatening employees, even calling some at home. One of the ICU nurses won't come in this weekend, because he has threatened her specifically. There is now a guard posted outside our unit, though what he will be able to do is beyond me, because they aren't allowed to carry weapons. Maybe harsh language will control the situation. Yep, that should do it.

If that wasn't enough, apparently one of our patients' husband is abusive and is threatening to come up here and shoot her. I heard her earlier on the phone, crying and telling him she will always love him, but she just can't take it anymore. Always love him? Are you kidding me?

I wish it were the dead of winter, since criminals don't like to come out in the cold. Usually.
I wish Hillary Clinton was here to see how I earn "too much money."
I wish everyone would go to sleep.
I wish I were (almost) anywhere but here.

MMM follow-up

Well, it was not a good week for finding something positive to say to everyone all the time. In fact, I pretty much failed at it. I tried. No, really, I did.

We had a situation. Our 8-bed unit was full, ICU was full, and between us, we were 3 people short. My little orientee, now on her own, but still on my schedule for assistance, was struggling to handle her assignment. She had a patient who really should have been in ICU, but they, as mentioned before, had no beds. I was so busy with my patients, I couldn’t do more than shoot off advice as we passed in the med room. In addition, the phone was ringing off the desk, call lights were going off in 3 rooms at once, and there was no one to help.

A man appeared before me. A very irate man. A very irate man whose mother had called for Morphine 30 minutes after taking another narcotic, and hadn’t gotten it. A nurse had tripped over her IV earlier in the day and half the day was spent in X-Ray trying to replace it, and the nurse hadn’t even apologized. There wasn’t even ICE WATER in her pitcher to comfort her, for God’s sake! She was one of us (a CNA from a physician's office), but he knew there were priority patients. He was going to take this up with Someone In Charge in the morning.

I listened with what I hoped was a caring look on my face. I apologized for the day nurse’s clumsiness. I informed him Debbie had asked me about the morphine and I had advised her to wait and reassess his mom to insure she did not get over-sedated. I would have Debbie reassess her now. I promised to go fetch the ice water right away, even though I was holding the pain pills for my post-op patient in my hot little hand. And ALL of our patients are our priority. But when he spouted off that “this was supposed to be a special care unit, For Crying Out Loud!” I forgot my resolution.

“Sir, look around you,” I told him as I waved my hand around the unit. “Do you SEE anyone else here? No? That's because there are only the two of us, running our butts off, and we are doing the best we can. I’m sorry that’s not good enough for you.” He walked off without another word. So did I.

In retrospect, I still can’t think of anything positive to say to that man. He made Debbie cry.

Emotions

The last few days have been topsy-turvy on so many levels. I just need to vent a few minutes, so feel free to skip this post if you like!

Disappointment, disgust, and cynicism: Our unit manager threw up her hands and quit after administration performed another butt-chewing over staffing. She really was a good manager and I hate to see her go, but totally understand. Admin announced a staff meeting (with less than 24 hours notice) to address "questions and concerns", but I didn't bother to go. I've been working in hospitals long enough to know they say what you want to hear, then do what they have always planned to do. Don't waste my time, you clueless idiots--just get out of my way and let me do my job.

Anticipation, panic, concern, relief and gratitude:
Friday night I had my second sleep study, this time with a C-PAP, and oh my, what a difference! I was so ALERT Saturday night and I had so much stamina--I've forgotten what it's like to feel GOOD! Since I'm claustrophobic, I had a little trouble with the mask, but was able to get past it that night, and will be working on it. Today I got my own machine, and found out the detailed results of my sleep study: Severe, with 62-75 episodes an hour and changes in my heart rate and rhythm, as well as dangerously low oxygen levels (73%). This is the stuff heart attacks and brain damage are made of. Throw in an absence of stages 4 & 5 sleep cycles (deep sleep) plus mild restless leg syndrome, and there is no where to go but improvement. I am so grateful my PA listened to my whiney-ass complaints and put the puzzle pieces together to treat this potentially life-threatening condition.

More concern, fear, frustration and relief: Tandi, my cocker, had 4 teeth removed by the vet yesterday, and then has had some strange type of reaction to one or both of her meds. We're still trying to figure out which of them it is, but she has been disoriented, possibly hallucinating, and managed to leave the yard despite the invisible wireless fence collar shocking her neck. Two neighbors helped me look for her, and we found her being watched over by another neighbor who recognized her from our walks, but didn't know where we live. Tandi was aimlessly crossing the street, walking around in circles, and finally just laid down in the woods. She almost didn't recognize me when we got there, and now doesn't want me out of her sight. She's really pitiful, with her little heart beating so fast and her body just quivering, and I hope this wears off soon.

Disbelief, sorrow, hope, gratitude, humility and pride:
The Compassion bloggers.
The conditions so many children must endure, IF they live long enough, make me ashamed of my petty complaints about my regular income (okay, I just did that, didn't I?), the neverending piles of laundry and dishes, gas prices, grocery shopping and insurance nincompoops. I am so wealthy--I have a non-leaking roof over my four walls, two working indoor bathrooms with toilet paper, food in my pantry for endless meals per day, ice water, shoes, a C-PAP machine, books to read, headache medication, hobbies. I live in a country where I CAN complain about my employer or my governor without fear of retribution, where I can drive to the store and pick up a variety of foods, where I can drive, period. My daughter always had good health care, went to school, is pursuing a career she has chosen for herself.

I am wealthy.

I am blessed.

Now I think I will spend a few minutes viewing the lunar eclipse, put Tandi in her crate where she will feel safe and secure, and put that C-PAP to good use.

Thanks for listening.

Home again

We had SNOW! LOTS of snow! Well, lots for us, anyway. Up to 6 inches in places. Enough that the schools closed, the little mom and pop shops didn't open, and some of us had to bunk in at the hospital.

Since we had advance notice, I was able to pack extra scrubs and an overnight bag. I knew the interstate would be fine, but the local roads wouldn't be easily navigated that hour of the morning, and I live on a little mountain. No problem, I can just stay in an empty room.

Wrong. The case manager said the patient rooms hadn't been released, and the sleep center rooms were already committed. What was left? 4 cubicles off the emergency room. One had two cribs in it, one had a bed, one had a stretcher, and one had a chair. She thought she could get us mats for the floor. But she couldn't promise we would be able to get a shower. WHAT????? For this, they want me to stay so I can work the next night? Come on, we're not talking Hurricane Katrina, here. Just a little snow and ice.

So I booked a room at the Days Inn next exit up. Four miles away. Interstate is clear, rooms are plenty, there's a coffee pot just for me, and a SHOWER. The receptionist was very nice. She gave me a 10% discount. She put me on the back side of the motel, across from the pool and away from the noise, no one above me or for several rooms around me. Nice and quiet. My own thermostat. My own blankets. 3 pillows just for me. No sleeping on the floor. No sharing the remote. Days Inn, I love you.



No reason not to sleep well, right? Except that pesky sleep apnea. And I forgot my meds, so no sleeping pill, no Claritin-D. It was the worst day's sleep I've had in months.

Thank goodness for a moderately busy night and a new orientee. Otherwise it would have been so difficult to stay alert. Today the roads were clear in most places, my driveway melted clear, and tomorrow it's supposed to snow again. But I am safe and warm in my own house, with my own sweet little cold-nosed barker, my snoring, blanket-hogging husband, my meds, 3 flavors of coffee, my sewing machine and stash, a new DVD--and 4 nights off.

Life is good.