Friday, November 27, 2009

In the vicinity of our metropolitan area there are a number of prisons. Is this a curse, or a boon to business? I am not sure. However, I guess we can consider it a boon to Hospital revenue, because just a couple of the local hospitals, have the good fortune to having garnered the prison-care contract. That includes us at Sister Euphemia‘s joint.

Thus, I figured it was high time I took a look at the topic, and no better a time, than just having spent 3 nights administering to a bonafide felon from the notorious, Folsom Prison.

I Googled, “Folsom Prison Famous” and here is the following website, for those of you who are curious -

Made In The Shade

A prisoner from Folsom
San Quentin or Ione,
They love our soft beds
And their own custom phone,
The cable television
Music, movie, 50 channel,
The sheets from Bed & Bath
And the Ralph Lauren flannel.

Yes, a medical prisoner
Has it made in the shade,
Free, taxpayer paid insurance
And their own private maid,
To fluff up their pillows
And deliver their dinner,
Why, it makes it all worth it
To be a cold-blooded sinner.

Mr. I-Didn't-Do-It
Had a headache and blurred vision,
Apparently he had experienced
A head-floor collision,
After fighting with Bubba
For some contraband tobacco,
Not the best choice
Because, Bubba is a whacko.

The medical doctor
On site, at the slammer,
Had seen injuries like this
Like, head versus hammer,
And since the prison now out-sources
All their medical care,
We are the receivers
Of all the felons out there.

Most prisoners are cool
They know they've got it good,
Just smile, and say thank you
Like any locked up fool would,
When they know we have the power
To cause pleasure or pain,
Why even a rat understands
With his little rodent brain.

One or two ankles
Are shackled to the bed,
Two armed guards sit
Bored out of their heads,
It's a cush-job, always overtime
No part of it is hard,
Merry Christmas to all
Life is great, for a medical guard.

California prisoners
Fake an illness now and then,
To get a luxury bed in the hospital
Better than any, in the pen.


Saturday, November 21, 2009

Yes, the talk of the town, and the rumblings of gossip all revolve around the building of the new tower/wing. When will it open? Who will work there? What version of ICU will occupy the new 22-bed critical-care floor? Of course, since we're nurses, the rumor-mill is hitting about 200 mph by now. Heck, even the rumors are spawning children. Anyway, I have some ideas about what's really happening, but as usual, it's just So Much Talk.

So Much Talk

It's a brand new tower
And there's so much talk,
About the circles and arrows
And colored chalk,
The fancy new beds
With the bariatric lifts,
Which Sister Euphemia claims
Are the most blessed gifts.

There are all kinds of new gizmo's
Both high-tech and low,
There are new communicators
That track where you go,
There's a lock on the doors
So the thieves don't get in,
And Sister Euphemia claims
It will protect us from sin.

There are mumblings and grumblings
Regarding which I-C-U,
Will stake claim to the veranda
With the most wonderful view,
While powerbrokers gamble
With buffalo chips and more,
The bookies in Vegas are
Handicapping the score.

Seniority claims
And back-slapping buyouts,
Brownie point redemptions
And cheerleader tryouts,
Ballot box stuffing
To influence their score,
Everyone bargaining
In the back of the store.

Sister Euphemia consoles
With a positive focus,
Casting prayers right and left
With a little hocus-pocus,
All will be well
As ends well, she states,
Now, just get back to work
And don't test the fates.

It's a brand new tower
But it's not open yet,
Who will win the right to work there?
Is anyone's bet.


Friday, November 13, 2009

Every,every day, the hottest topic is "the new building". As in, "when are we going to move in", and I wonder if we'll stay full, so we don't have to float.

I don't know, or particularly care, as I know it will be soon in dust-mite years. But, it's still the talk of the town!

Shiny New Building

It's a brand new tower

But we're the same old nurses,

It's the 21st century

And we still carry purses,

So don't be thinking something's different

It's the same old song and dance,

Draw the card, “Community Chest”

Or would you rather try at “Chance”?

If only life were fantasy

And imagination real,

All our fixtures made of the purest gold

Instead of stainless steel,

Our patients built of paper

Like the cut-out dolls of old,

We could cure their worst diseases;

Just cut the dotted line and fold.

We'll be doing all the same old stuff

Repackaged, new and shiny,

We'll be the happiest crew you could ever find

With no reason to be whiny,

The wonder-chip from IBM

Will be embedded in our brain,

And if we deviate from the master plan

Expect a ball and chain.

Oh, we're moving to a brand new building

The excitement grows every which way,

It's the hottest new trick since Trauma

Grabbed the headlines, 10 years ago today,

After the public is overwhelmed by our advertising

They'll be crashing Admitting for care,

We'll be praying to go back

To that old rickety shack,

And breathing that moldy old air.



Monday, November 02, 2009

Occasionally at work, there is a new Nursing Policy (or is that a new edict?), that seems so flippin' ridiculous. That means, any nurse that reads it over, stops, and emits a very loud, WTF? But then, when the boss says the cause of it was the "Joint Commission", we shake our collective heads and sigh. But after that, when the boss stumps that they wrote the flippin' edict, there's a distinctive head shake, eye squint and lip lift, and again, WTF-OMG!

The Joint Commission; band of brothers, or band of thieves? Who knows.

But, "National Patient Safety Goal 16", is something to do with making sure patients and families, have a method to "summon extra help". And so, at our hospital, this will be known forever as, the "Condition Help Policy". No, I'm not making this up.

Well actually, I did make up the poem you are about to read, in response to the latest flim-flam edict.

Condition Yelp

If you need urgent attention
Because you are concerned,
Your meatloaf was moldy
And the poached eggs were burned,
We now have a program
For help right away,
Condition Yelp is the answer
Any time night or day.

If there's a medical change
But we didn't notice,
Or you sent us a letter
But we ignored what you wrote us,
We now have a system
For hot buttered care,
Condition Yelp is always ready
Anytime, anywhere.

How do you do it?
Just listen and learn,
Dial "O" for the operator
And then wait your turn,
Because we are predicting
An onslaught of calls,
From every Tom, Dick and Harry
Out wandering the halls,
Complaining about the stupidest
Crap in the book;
Condition Yelp guarantees
The Charge Nurse will take a look.

I can hardly wait to be
A designated responder,
One more task to undertake
As the Charge-Nurse, over yonder,
Never knowing when the phone rings
If I have to leap into action,
It's a heavy responsiblity
This Condition Yelp distraction.

When the Satisfaction Surveys
Are tallied and scored,
It will all come up roses
So that we can afford,
To send the chief's on vacation
Or some high-end retreat,
While the minions of peons
Keep walking the beat.

Condition Yelp is the solution
To any problem that could be,
And the cost to the patient?
Hot damn! It's always free,
It's just a part of our
Hot, smoking package of care,
Dial "O", give a Yelp
And a Nurse, will be there!