26th February (Friday) - People often say T.G.I.F., but for my case, it's never a good thing when it's Friday. It drives me nuts half of the time. And today especially, it's the worst.
Around 9, we got a patient whose PEG tube is needed to be checked by our doctor, okay, we pushed the patient in, knowing our doctor will come in after he sees his patients. The family, two daughters plus a maid, carried a lot of baggage with them. The moment we brought them into the room, the two daughters demanded my friends and I to remove the dressing. We can't, because the doctor isn't here yet, but busy with his clinic. If we were to remove the dressing, and it takes an hour for the doctor to arrive, it wouldn't be clean.When we explained that to the daughters, they gave us really nasty looks. When you had dealt to many people with these kind of attitudes, you kinda developed a sort of thick skin against patients.
The minutes ticked by rapidly with no pause, and our doctor still haven't arrived yet. The doctor finally came after an hour or so, and he asked us, "Why didn't you all open the dressing yet?" Actually, we were already on standby with our gloves and everything, but the two daughters had to snobbishly go, "We asked them to, but they refused." Well, if that is how you put it... At least the doctor didn't say anything, he just let us get on with our work. After the dressing was revealed, the daughters went on and on about the wound. We got nothing against that, but it's more like they kept thinking they're smarter than the doctor, cause they keep asking really weird questions and kept giving that I'm-such-a-know-it-all patient so you can't fool me attitude. Our doctor kept a cool expression, but his voice was all firm, going, "I will say it again for the third time, if you do not let me remove the tube, your mother isn't going to get any better. Do you understand?" The three of them bicker back and forth til our next doctor came in. He assessed the lady's situation and tried to loosen the tube, but with no success. In the end, they both agreed to admit the lady, after much negotiation. I took a swab sample from the tube site as per doctor's order, then cleaned around the area. Sounds okay. I wanted to bring the patient out for our next patient, but the daughters said, "We needed to feed her." So we went okay, but after feeding, they wouldn't leave, saying that we must not disturb her cause she's tired.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Two hours passed, and the family refused to come out, seriously, they all sat in the room with tea and snacks, locking the door and treating our room like a hotel suite. We can't provoke them, all we could do was wait and hope for an opening. And it came. One of our doctors wanted to use that room, so we told the patient that we are sorry, but our patient needed the room. Unhappy, the family packed everything and murmured under their breath as they walked out. Geez....
Then there was an incident that involved a section of a partition falling on a patient. It was just unlucky. A young patient who was groggy clung to it for support, and accidentally shoved it onto another patient who had just came out from sedation. The poor patient got hit on the head and shoulder from the fallen partition. Naturally, all of us ran to the patient, where we offered our treatment room, but because the patient was from Endoscopy, the girls took her back in to rest. Not even ten minutes later, I heard shouting from around the corner. All of us took a quick peak and saw a lady yelling. Oh, I know that lady. She's the patient's friend, she was sitting next to her when it all happened. She was yelling about getting the cashier girl to pay for her friend's medical bill, claiming that she suffered from concussion. The poor cashier girl suffered the wrath, even though it was just pure unluckiness, to the point where the managers, customer services and building and service people came running to calm the lady down. All of us felt sorry for the girl, because she gotten blamed for something that was out of her hands.
In the end, they must've offered some sort of compensation because the lady was fuming, but not so much in the end. Super dotty, but we couldn't say anything because we weren't involved. Don't get yourself into trouble for nothing.
On the bright side, we got treated for Subway. Yay, thanks, Y*.
* Name is kept confidential to respect privacy
Friday, February 26, 2016
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
Stung Once, Twice Bitten, Thrice-
24th February - Yesterday we were all alright with dressings, but today is a market. Everyone keeps on coming, nobody bothers taking queue numbers, nobody bothers sitting, nobody made an appointment, they just kept on coming in like an overflown dam. There were some patients whom are really nasty, the types that shout here and there. Ugh... Of all days... I was right about dancing up and down that today's my half day, but I'm guilty for leaving my friend alone, but she said, "It's okay, just go back home. If I need help, I'll let you know as soon as possible."
All of our doctors are fighting for the treatment rooms, ohhhh, dang it. And one of our doctors got two PRPs and is hogging the room. And one doctor, poor doctor, he's always in a hurry and have no room for his injection. His poor patient ended up in the clinic for a long time, and because I just needed to apply one copper sulphate, my friend took over just as he said, "You're free?" And I answered, "Just." And he said, "Okay, get me a dressing set, local anesthesia, shincort and iodine." Well, my friend did say it's just a normal injection, so I grabbed what's needed, a pair of gloves for precaution and run into his room where the patient is waiting. He was looking up down for his gloves, and I said, "Here, I got these as spares." Whew, he took it and I start preparing the equipment on his table. I didn't had a choice, there's no trolley, and his counter surface is the only place where it's clear. So I got him all his stuff and he jab...at TWO places. Oh Mother of God, please don't let him explode. Well, he didn't. He let me place the gauze there while I run like crazy for a second plaster. Thank God, thank God he wasn't fuming, he just tossed the needle and syringe into my kidney dish and said, "Watch your hands. I put the needle in there." The moment I stepped out, he started shouting at the clinic girl about why there's so many patients without appointments. Uh-oh. I hightail it out of there, refusing to get involved in the drama.
Everybody's sick too. Poor them. The only ones who are not sick were us Three Musketeers and a few clinic girls. Well, the weather is awful, and working in a hospital is a place where you'll most likely get sick, hence why we need annual medical checkups plus good immune system. If you think that's bad, many patients with masks are also piling in. My doctor didn't wear his mask, but he still had sore throat. Poor doctor. I didn't had time to see him cause I was super busy, and for the love of God, both legs of mine are really in pain now. Thank goodness for Voltaren gel, but if this keeps going on, I'm going to have to see him for prescriptions of Acustop plasters. Please no more X-Rays, @.@
I just about had it with a doctor. For goodness sake, he's still going on about the cotton balls. Geez, it's not just our hospital, it's worldwide. Everyone stopped using those fuzzy cotton balls because it sticks onto patient's wounds, and it hurts. Don't believe me, try it. I had seen patients screaming like hell when we pulled those fuzzy cotton from their wound. Outside pharmacy still sell them, so why not try there? Knowing that he had lost the battle, he started taking out all of his stress on me. Okay, enough is enough. From the first time I solo-ed with him, he kept saying I'm slow, no matter how much I prepare smoothly, it's always I'M SLOW. Once upon a time, I might have broken down and refused to assist him, but you know what? Sod it. I'll assist you in your cases and do it right, but not for you, for the patient. Say whatever you want, I'm tired of arguing with people who always think they're right.
This pretty much sums up today.
All of our doctors are fighting for the treatment rooms, ohhhh, dang it. And one of our doctors got two PRPs and is hogging the room. And one doctor, poor doctor, he's always in a hurry and have no room for his injection. His poor patient ended up in the clinic for a long time, and because I just needed to apply one copper sulphate, my friend took over just as he said, "You're free?" And I answered, "Just." And he said, "Okay, get me a dressing set, local anesthesia, shincort and iodine." Well, my friend did say it's just a normal injection, so I grabbed what's needed, a pair of gloves for precaution and run into his room where the patient is waiting. He was looking up down for his gloves, and I said, "Here, I got these as spares." Whew, he took it and I start preparing the equipment on his table. I didn't had a choice, there's no trolley, and his counter surface is the only place where it's clear. So I got him all his stuff and he jab...at TWO places. Oh Mother of God, please don't let him explode. Well, he didn't. He let me place the gauze there while I run like crazy for a second plaster. Thank God, thank God he wasn't fuming, he just tossed the needle and syringe into my kidney dish and said, "Watch your hands. I put the needle in there." The moment I stepped out, he started shouting at the clinic girl about why there's so many patients without appointments. Uh-oh. I hightail it out of there, refusing to get involved in the drama.
Everybody's sick too. Poor them. The only ones who are not sick were us Three Musketeers and a few clinic girls. Well, the weather is awful, and working in a hospital is a place where you'll most likely get sick, hence why we need annual medical checkups plus good immune system. If you think that's bad, many patients with masks are also piling in. My doctor didn't wear his mask, but he still had sore throat. Poor doctor. I didn't had time to see him cause I was super busy, and for the love of God, both legs of mine are really in pain now. Thank goodness for Voltaren gel, but if this keeps going on, I'm going to have to see him for prescriptions of Acustop plasters. Please no more X-Rays, @.@
I just about had it with a doctor. For goodness sake, he's still going on about the cotton balls. Geez, it's not just our hospital, it's worldwide. Everyone stopped using those fuzzy cotton balls because it sticks onto patient's wounds, and it hurts. Don't believe me, try it. I had seen patients screaming like hell when we pulled those fuzzy cotton from their wound. Outside pharmacy still sell them, so why not try there? Knowing that he had lost the battle, he started taking out all of his stress on me. Okay, enough is enough. From the first time I solo-ed with him, he kept saying I'm slow, no matter how much I prepare smoothly, it's always I'M SLOW. Once upon a time, I might have broken down and refused to assist him, but you know what? Sod it. I'll assist you in your cases and do it right, but not for you, for the patient. Say whatever you want, I'm tired of arguing with people who always think they're right.
This pretty much sums up today.
Monday, February 22, 2016
Haunted by Past
22th February (Monday) - You think, that today being Chap Goh Mei will be a happy day. But oh no, this is MY life we're talking about, and it's anything but normal.
Things started off innocently enough, then there's an incident on Saturday, yes, I did not manage to post it up back then cause I was beaned. I was returning the appointment book to the respective department when the two senior girls asked whether I'm happy working in an outpatient department. Is that a trick question? "Of course I do, the place here is wonderful, I get to meet doctors, some really nice ones, and I have wonderful supportive friends who had helped me." Then, comes the bombshell.
"Do you want to go back to your old department?"
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ...
... ... ...
... ...
...
"Are you okay? Your face is really white, like someone had sucked out all your blood..."
I swear, my heart seemed to have dropped all the way into my stomach.
Go...back...there?
"We're not forcing you or anything, but it's just that there were some...incidents going on, that's why we are asking you whether you want to go back there."
Oh... Going back to the place where I worked at means staying with one doctor, and handling the few little cases, but is it worth it? I suffered depression from there, attempted self-harm and self-loathing, and very nearly gave up on being a nurse. I was shifted from here and there, absolutely lost til I went to the place where I am now. Where the people there had brought me back on track, the doctors, especially a few, supported me. My friends at that department, supported each other, got each other's back, like that song :
Our paths, they did cross,
Though I cannot say just why,
We met, we laughed, we held on fast,
And then we say goodbye.
And who'll hear the echoes of stories never told?
Let them ring out till they unfold.
Even when we were busy, get yelled at by rude patients, we still stick together. I dubbed us the Three Musketeers since there are three of us (nurses, I mean), which they accepted as an endearing term. And to be really frank, even if I were to go back, what can I achieve? I know my condition, I got nothing against the people, but it's more like the environment is not right for me. I can try, and try til I break, but I'll never be able to fit in there. Yes, it's a small place that focuses only on certain procedures, but I'll be miserable. I won't be able to be with my friends and my doctors. I'm not willing to give it all up. My department is big, true, with all sorts of doctors to handle, and all sorts of funny procedures, but I was happy. Truly happy to find a place where I belonged. They knew that I wrote novels as a second job and they were proud of me, even giving me inputs on some ideas. I had to go for my psychiatrist's appointment when the time comes, and they were accepting of me, instead of shunning me as though I am a pariah. Especially the surgeon whom I assisted, he had seen me going for my appointment and he had been supportive, always telling me not to stress, not to get upset, but to let him know if I'm having difficulty. If I had been there, I would've never met him, or any other doctors, of all types.
When I got back after a long while, they asked me where had I been. Never one to hide anything from them, I told them the issue. They were actually outraged, for me. "Who do they think they are? When she was depressed, they had to throw her out. Now that we had mold her back to normal,. they think they can just waltz in and take her back just because of their incidents?" I nearly burst into tears, because they had accepted me as part of them from the time I joined in, even when there were rumors of me going around, about how I am insane. Outraged that they said if they dared to come, they will set the few doctors that I am closed with on them. I assured them that they didn't have to do that, because I had politely told the senior girls that I refused the offer, not that I still hold hatred against my old department, but because there are just some places where I just don't belong to, no matter how much I tried. Like that old saying that goes: If the shoes fits, something like that, I really can't remember how it goes.
I learned a really weird procedure today.
Nope, you did not read it wrong. It does read Buddy Splint. God knows, the doctor yelled at me because of the cotton balls. He wanted the old ones, the fuzzy kind, not the gauze type. No matter how much I told him that we've been using it from last year and most of our doctors love it, he was like, "Get me the freaking cotton balls NOW!!!" Fortunately, my patient was a CI for the hospital and she said, "Doctor, there really is no more of those kinds." And he kept looking at me as though it's my fault. Ahhhhh, please don't eat me. In the end, he shoved the cotton balls into my hand, fixed the splint, and walked off. Whew. The CI confirmed with me that there's no more of those cotton balls and I apologized non-stop, and said perhaps outside are still selling the old types, which she thanked me and assured to splint her toes.
I asked my friend why is it called a buddy splint, and she showed me by putting two fingers together, side by side. "Two together, right? BFF, That's why they are buddies."
Oh.... OH....
I drew the toes together like she mentioned. And yes, you can apply it for your toes and fingers, as long as you have a pair.
Over and out. With more to come.
Things started off innocently enough, then there's an incident on Saturday, yes, I did not manage to post it up back then cause I was beaned. I was returning the appointment book to the respective department when the two senior girls asked whether I'm happy working in an outpatient department. Is that a trick question? "Of course I do, the place here is wonderful, I get to meet doctors, some really nice ones, and I have wonderful supportive friends who had helped me." Then, comes the bombshell.
"Do you want to go back to your old department?"
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ...
... ... ...
... ...
...
"Are you okay? Your face is really white, like someone had sucked out all your blood..."
I swear, my heart seemed to have dropped all the way into my stomach.
Go...back...there?
"We're not forcing you or anything, but it's just that there were some...incidents going on, that's why we are asking you whether you want to go back there."
Oh... Going back to the place where I worked at means staying with one doctor, and handling the few little cases, but is it worth it? I suffered depression from there, attempted self-harm and self-loathing, and very nearly gave up on being a nurse. I was shifted from here and there, absolutely lost til I went to the place where I am now. Where the people there had brought me back on track, the doctors, especially a few, supported me. My friends at that department, supported each other, got each other's back, like that song :
Our paths, they did cross,
Though I cannot say just why,
We met, we laughed, we held on fast,
And then we say goodbye.
And who'll hear the echoes of stories never told?
Let them ring out till they unfold.
Even when we were busy, get yelled at by rude patients, we still stick together. I dubbed us the Three Musketeers since there are three of us (nurses, I mean), which they accepted as an endearing term. And to be really frank, even if I were to go back, what can I achieve? I know my condition, I got nothing against the people, but it's more like the environment is not right for me. I can try, and try til I break, but I'll never be able to fit in there. Yes, it's a small place that focuses only on certain procedures, but I'll be miserable. I won't be able to be with my friends and my doctors. I'm not willing to give it all up. My department is big, true, with all sorts of doctors to handle, and all sorts of funny procedures, but I was happy. Truly happy to find a place where I belonged. They knew that I wrote novels as a second job and they were proud of me, even giving me inputs on some ideas. I had to go for my psychiatrist's appointment when the time comes, and they were accepting of me, instead of shunning me as though I am a pariah. Especially the surgeon whom I assisted, he had seen me going for my appointment and he had been supportive, always telling me not to stress, not to get upset, but to let him know if I'm having difficulty. If I had been there, I would've never met him, or any other doctors, of all types.
When I got back after a long while, they asked me where had I been. Never one to hide anything from them, I told them the issue. They were actually outraged, for me. "Who do they think they are? When she was depressed, they had to throw her out. Now that we had mold her back to normal,. they think they can just waltz in and take her back just because of their incidents?" I nearly burst into tears, because they had accepted me as part of them from the time I joined in, even when there were rumors of me going around, about how I am insane. Outraged that they said if they dared to come, they will set the few doctors that I am closed with on them. I assured them that they didn't have to do that, because I had politely told the senior girls that I refused the offer, not that I still hold hatred against my old department, but because there are just some places where I just don't belong to, no matter how much I tried. Like that old saying that goes: If the shoes fits, something like that, I really can't remember how it goes.
I learned a really weird procedure today.
Nope, you did not read it wrong. It does read Buddy Splint. God knows, the doctor yelled at me because of the cotton balls. He wanted the old ones, the fuzzy kind, not the gauze type. No matter how much I told him that we've been using it from last year and most of our doctors love it, he was like, "Get me the freaking cotton balls NOW!!!" Fortunately, my patient was a CI for the hospital and she said, "Doctor, there really is no more of those kinds." And he kept looking at me as though it's my fault. Ahhhhh, please don't eat me. In the end, he shoved the cotton balls into my hand, fixed the splint, and walked off. Whew. The CI confirmed with me that there's no more of those cotton balls and I apologized non-stop, and said perhaps outside are still selling the old types, which she thanked me and assured to splint her toes.
I asked my friend why is it called a buddy splint, and she showed me by putting two fingers together, side by side. "Two together, right? BFF, That's why they are buddies."
Oh.... OH....
I drew the toes together like she mentioned. And yes, you can apply it for your toes and fingers, as long as you have a pair.
Over and out. With more to come.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Many Faces
20th February (Saturday) - Hello, I'm back folks. And my last post was dated back in January. The Chinese New Year festivities had everything in a rush, visiting relatives and old friends and whatnot. Being in a new working environment made things tough to take leave, but a week of R & R is good enough.
Let's see, I came back and things were the same as usual, but had a few ups and down, inside and outside of work. Before Chinese New Year, there was this patient who seemed okay enough, but the sister, the younger sister, is quite frankly, awful. There are many ways to describe her, but I'm sticking to the one that is nicer compared to the one we're thinking of her. I'm sure you know this better than anyone, but when it comes to hospital stuff, you are not allowed to take photos or video recording. Well, when I do my usual standard of dressing, she stopped me and started talking in a really, really arrogant tone. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" I was a little confused, because I didn't know what she's talking about. Then she slammed her hands on my trolley and said, "This is a sterile procedure. Why are you not using sterile gloves?!" What the-
She said WHAT?!
I looked at her brother's wound, it's no bigger than a ten cents piece, a centimeter deep. You can clean it without batting an eyelid. You don't need sterile gloves for this, just clean hands and your principal of sterility will do. Well, she basically called me a lot of names, and not satisfied, shouted, "My brother had an appendicitis!!!" (So....) I wonder what is she so worked up about. In my department, all general and gastro surgery such as appendicitis (appendix), lap cholecystectomy (gall bladders), colectomy (colon), hemorrhoids, and many other fracture bones cases surgical wounds like the knee, back, shoulder, legs and more are something that I see nearly every single day. And so far all of our patients are okay except for her. Not enough to berate me, she whipped out her phone and started recording me, demanding me to start from hand washing til the end. If I don't comply, she will take me to customer service. What could I do? My mind on auto-pilot, I complied and ignored the fact that there's a camera recording my every move. The brother kept silent, only answering when I ask him if he feel any pain. The sister made sure to keep me in her sights.
You can imagine the relief once I finally placed the dressing in place and let the patient out. The moment the brother went out, she looked at me and said coldly, "If I ever catch you doing that idiotic thing again, I will drag you to customer service." Dispirited, I sat down in a corner with my face in my hands, not crying but thinking what went wrong. My friend, pittied me, comforted me, saying that I should just ignore the crazy patient's sister. Since the sister had me in her, um, blacklist, she took the case over while I handle the other various cases. My friend(s), both of them, are the no-nonsense type. So the sister couldn't talk to them like how she did to me. Turns out the sister is a staff nurse in the National Heart Institute.
!!!!!!!!
Now hold on a minute. The Heart Institute deals with heart cases, and, of course you need to be sterile because the heart is a vital organ. One slip and you will cause death. The brother has appendicitis. Now I'm not saying that it's not a big deal, but common sense here, if your patient has a dry incision wound, don't tell me you are going to open a dressing set, one large bottle of saline, sterile gloves, all for the sake of a dry wound, where you can actually just wear normal gloves for protection and use one swipe of the alcohol swab to clean the dried blood. Believe me, when I first started down here, a doctor was going on and on about how opening a dressing set to clean a small dry wound is a total waste of money. Since then, I always looked at the severity of the wound first before deciding on the dressing set or not. And to be frank, being a nurse in the Heart Institute is nothing to be braggy about. I been to banks many times and had to fill in the occupation part, when I put down my position and company name, most people go, "Oh, a 5 star hospital, so good." But I always smile and shake my head, saying it's just like any other hospital. When I was a patient undergoing surgery, I had never sued my position to bully other nurses, I just act like a patient, because the moment you are sick, and you come for help, you are a patient. Of course I've had student nurses taking my vital signs and whatnot, but I had never once antagonize them by pointing out their flaws, I just smiled softly, but did give them advices and tips instead of yelling at them like some maniac. The doctor asked me about the patient and he said that the brother and sister duo had caused dramas in the ward as well. Hm, if only the world is such a nice place.
Yesterday I encountered a family of three under one of our department surgeon. The mother was the speaker for the family, she came up and rapped the counter and said, in a very rude and arrogant tone, "My son had daily dressing under Dr. So-and-So. Do I go to the ward for dressing or here?" With a bright smile plastered on my face, even though my heart is writhing at her tone, I answered, in a really bright tone, that all dressings will be done in our treatment rooms. She took a look at the room and gave a huff. Then, rapping the counter again, she said, in that tone of hers. "I want to know how much is the cost for a dressing." Again, I told her politely that I can't name her a price, because each and every patients are different. Then she snapped, "You are a nurse. Surely you had seen all sorts of dressings, I want you to give me a fixed amount! Don't tell me you don't know how much a dressing costs if I told you my son dressing is about this big! (She puts her thumb and index finger together.)"
Oh..... I know these types. These types of patients are the one who asked you a price, then they come for the procedure. Even if it's a few dollars expensive than the one you stated, they will go to customer service, start making dramas, and then, the usual statement, "The nurse told me so!!!" Sorry, I had my fair amount of handling these types, so I told her, quite firmly, that I don't know the exact price, and if she has any inquiries, to please go back to her son's primary doctor. Naturally, she took my word, then went to cause a big drama for the doctor as well. Ahhh, I guess there's no reasoning with some patients.
After work, I went out shopping with dad for a blanket-pillow for traveling necessities, so we found a nice empty space at the parking lot and parked there. No sooner had we taken more than a few paces, this elegantly dressed lady in red came out, and said in very rude way, to please move our car. We didn't get it because she parked in her space, and so did we. But no, she was making a big fuss that our car will bang hers. So we took a good look at her car. A really old, faded green Proton Saga with rusted tires. For the love of - IT'S NOT EVEN A PROPERLY MAINTAINED CAR OR SOMETHING FANCY LIKE A MERCEDES, yet she kept demanding us to move. When we put the car in reverse, she didn't walked away, but watch us with those hawk eye gaze of hers. Fuming, my dad ordered me to get in the car and we drove another round for a parking spot. We passed that lady's car again, and surprise, surprise, no one parked beside her. I took a quick sneak peek and saw the lady sitting at a window table of a coffeehouse, staring out at her car. Geez, no wonder why nobody wanted to park next to her. Of course Dad went ranting about how unbelievable some people are and I told him to calm down, to not lose himself, and someday, karma will come back to her. It's the Circle of Life.
On an extra note, I was beaned by an orange during a lion dance. *K.O.ed*
Let's see, I came back and things were the same as usual, but had a few ups and down, inside and outside of work. Before Chinese New Year, there was this patient who seemed okay enough, but the sister, the younger sister, is quite frankly, awful. There are many ways to describe her, but I'm sticking to the one that is nicer compared to the one we're thinking of her. I'm sure you know this better than anyone, but when it comes to hospital stuff, you are not allowed to take photos or video recording. Well, when I do my usual standard of dressing, she stopped me and started talking in a really, really arrogant tone. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" I was a little confused, because I didn't know what she's talking about. Then she slammed her hands on my trolley and said, "This is a sterile procedure. Why are you not using sterile gloves?!" What the-
She said WHAT?!
I looked at her brother's wound, it's no bigger than a ten cents piece, a centimeter deep. You can clean it without batting an eyelid. You don't need sterile gloves for this, just clean hands and your principal of sterility will do. Well, she basically called me a lot of names, and not satisfied, shouted, "My brother had an appendicitis!!!" (So....) I wonder what is she so worked up about. In my department, all general and gastro surgery such as appendicitis (appendix), lap cholecystectomy (gall bladders), colectomy (colon), hemorrhoids, and many other fracture bones cases surgical wounds like the knee, back, shoulder, legs and more are something that I see nearly every single day. And so far all of our patients are okay except for her. Not enough to berate me, she whipped out her phone and started recording me, demanding me to start from hand washing til the end. If I don't comply, she will take me to customer service. What could I do? My mind on auto-pilot, I complied and ignored the fact that there's a camera recording my every move. The brother kept silent, only answering when I ask him if he feel any pain. The sister made sure to keep me in her sights.
You can imagine the relief once I finally placed the dressing in place and let the patient out. The moment the brother went out, she looked at me and said coldly, "If I ever catch you doing that idiotic thing again, I will drag you to customer service." Dispirited, I sat down in a corner with my face in my hands, not crying but thinking what went wrong. My friend, pittied me, comforted me, saying that I should just ignore the crazy patient's sister. Since the sister had me in her, um, blacklist, she took the case over while I handle the other various cases. My friend(s), both of them, are the no-nonsense type. So the sister couldn't talk to them like how she did to me. Turns out the sister is a staff nurse in the National Heart Institute.
!!!!!!!!
Now hold on a minute. The Heart Institute deals with heart cases, and, of course you need to be sterile because the heart is a vital organ. One slip and you will cause death. The brother has appendicitis. Now I'm not saying that it's not a big deal, but common sense here, if your patient has a dry incision wound, don't tell me you are going to open a dressing set, one large bottle of saline, sterile gloves, all for the sake of a dry wound, where you can actually just wear normal gloves for protection and use one swipe of the alcohol swab to clean the dried blood. Believe me, when I first started down here, a doctor was going on and on about how opening a dressing set to clean a small dry wound is a total waste of money. Since then, I always looked at the severity of the wound first before deciding on the dressing set or not. And to be frank, being a nurse in the Heart Institute is nothing to be braggy about. I been to banks many times and had to fill in the occupation part, when I put down my position and company name, most people go, "Oh, a 5 star hospital, so good." But I always smile and shake my head, saying it's just like any other hospital. When I was a patient undergoing surgery, I had never sued my position to bully other nurses, I just act like a patient, because the moment you are sick, and you come for help, you are a patient. Of course I've had student nurses taking my vital signs and whatnot, but I had never once antagonize them by pointing out their flaws, I just smiled softly, but did give them advices and tips instead of yelling at them like some maniac. The doctor asked me about the patient and he said that the brother and sister duo had caused dramas in the ward as well. Hm, if only the world is such a nice place.
Yesterday I encountered a family of three under one of our department surgeon. The mother was the speaker for the family, she came up and rapped the counter and said, in a very rude and arrogant tone, "My son had daily dressing under Dr. So-and-So. Do I go to the ward for dressing or here?" With a bright smile plastered on my face, even though my heart is writhing at her tone, I answered, in a really bright tone, that all dressings will be done in our treatment rooms. She took a look at the room and gave a huff. Then, rapping the counter again, she said, in that tone of hers. "I want to know how much is the cost for a dressing." Again, I told her politely that I can't name her a price, because each and every patients are different. Then she snapped, "You are a nurse. Surely you had seen all sorts of dressings, I want you to give me a fixed amount! Don't tell me you don't know how much a dressing costs if I told you my son dressing is about this big! (She puts her thumb and index finger together.)"
Oh..... I know these types. These types of patients are the one who asked you a price, then they come for the procedure. Even if it's a few dollars expensive than the one you stated, they will go to customer service, start making dramas, and then, the usual statement, "The nurse told me so!!!" Sorry, I had my fair amount of handling these types, so I told her, quite firmly, that I don't know the exact price, and if she has any inquiries, to please go back to her son's primary doctor. Naturally, she took my word, then went to cause a big drama for the doctor as well. Ahhh, I guess there's no reasoning with some patients.
After work, I went out shopping with dad for a blanket-pillow for traveling necessities, so we found a nice empty space at the parking lot and parked there. No sooner had we taken more than a few paces, this elegantly dressed lady in red came out, and said in very rude way, to please move our car. We didn't get it because she parked in her space, and so did we. But no, she was making a big fuss that our car will bang hers. So we took a good look at her car. A really old, faded green Proton Saga with rusted tires. For the love of - IT'S NOT EVEN A PROPERLY MAINTAINED CAR OR SOMETHING FANCY LIKE A MERCEDES, yet she kept demanding us to move. When we put the car in reverse, she didn't walked away, but watch us with those hawk eye gaze of hers. Fuming, my dad ordered me to get in the car and we drove another round for a parking spot. We passed that lady's car again, and surprise, surprise, no one parked beside her. I took a quick sneak peek and saw the lady sitting at a window table of a coffeehouse, staring out at her car. Geez, no wonder why nobody wanted to park next to her. Of course Dad went ranting about how unbelievable some people are and I told him to calm down, to not lose himself, and someday, karma will come back to her. It's the Circle of Life.
On an extra note, I was beaned by an orange during a lion dance. *K.O.ed*
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