Friday, January 29, 2010

I was out of work for 3 weeks because of some alien organism that seems to have taken up residence in my right throat and ear canal. It's still there, but I've gone back to work. A lot happened at work during my missing weeks. Our "Cardiac Care Unit", has morphed into the Medical Cardiac ICU. Now I'm really more than glad that I work night shift, because most of those surgeries are recovered on Day-shift. That's right, and we stlll get paid more on the night shift. Talk about hidden benefits!

Anyway, going back to work after the unit has been broken-in a bit, has revealed new topics of business that I can write about, so I hope you enjoy this new journey.

Here again, I address a big topic; bariatrics. It's just a ruse. It's really about corporate spending on big projects, and the end-user impact.

Slalom Sleds

These hot new Bariatric beds
Are like super mondo slalom sleds,
We pull the patients up Q1 hour
They slide right down under gravity power.

The hydraulics seem a little weak
I'll explain it now, just let me speak,
When we lower the bed, head-down under feet
It's easy to reposition, all slick and neat,
But to return the head, upright beyond 30
We strain our backs, lifting down and dirty,
By physically hoisting the head of the bed
Another “safety” device, liable to make me dead.

These are new tech beds for the super heavies
Supposedly better than Sacramento levies,
Holding back the 100 year flood
But I'm not sure about Billybob's bud,
He weighed in at 225 kilo's
And we weren't even weighing the pillows,
On beds that are rated to 500 pounds
We're approaching that number in leaps and bounds.
Beds with all the bells and whistles
Not suitable for an ICBM missile.

The beds can rotate side to side
It's really quite a pleasant ride,
But here again, this weight thing irks
If you're really heavy, it barely jerks,
There's a tendency for big boy Jimmy
To get stuck on one side while the bed just shimmies,
Wiggles and strains, to pump air through the bellows
I wonder, “where is the lift team, I really need those fellows?”

There are lifts on the ceiling, with slings down below
When Jimmy's feeling better, we can swing him real slow,
Into the chair by the window to improve his outlook on life
Then the bed will be vacant, for his long suffering wife,
Her kilo's are many, her cankles are like stumps
I'm praying to Euphemia, “Dear Sister, bless these chumps”
Don't let either the one of them, have a cardiac arrest
Our defibrillators aren't prepared for that test.

We've got negative airflow, isolation rooms
And those lifts on the ceiling, on super-strong booms,
But honestly, I'm wary about the safety of it all
Bad things happen, when big people fall,
Caregivers damaged, lawsuits are brewing
When the dust has all settled, corporate is screwing,
Around with the numbers, statistics and more
The science of big, is a titanic chore.

Please, don't misinterpret my harangue on what's big
It's really an expose on the bureaucratic jig,
Million-dollar decisions, from dubious advice
High cost vendor contracts at an unbelievable price,
End-users suffer, at the whim of corporate decisions
Are Workmans' Comp injuries, in the provision?

This light-hearted muse, ended heavy and dark
But the business of healthcare, is no walk in the park.


Thursday, January 14, 2010

I worked in the new tower for 3 days and then I came down with some weird illness, where the right-side of my face feels like I got too much Novocaine at the Dentist office. Also, some of my taste buds quit, so food tastes really weird. Hey, maybe I could blame it on "sick-building syndrome"?

Anyway, I get a bunch of days off, and I figured I better prove that I can still pen nonsense.

Like Cancun

Any one of you with Addisons
Come on down to Auburn and Madison,
Check out our billboard
Take a look at our sign,
Glance at our fine menu and
How you will dine.

We have a shiny new tower
And a new Chef, to boot,
We welcome the gang-bangers
Who maim, stab and shoot,
We are non-prejudicial
Because everybody bleeds,
We're ready to serve
Our community's needs.

It's a fine looking billboard
Yes, it really caught my eye,
I'm thinking, that's where I want to be
When it's a good day to die,
And maybe Sister Euphemia
Will comfort my soul,
With her help I can avoid
That fire-belching hole,
Where I'm probably heading
After writing poems like this,
Poking fun at the nuns
Is like a sacrilegious kiss.

This is all about expansion
Up, sideways and down,
We're one hundred beds bigger
And in this hospital town,
It certainly is necessary
To appeal to the living,
As a non-profit joint
We depend on them giving,
Bundles of dollars
And cases of cash,
Or Sister Euphemia
Comes down with a rash.

It's a heck of a sign
On the outskirts of Carmichael,
If you're in a plane or a car
Or even on a bicycle,
It seems almost as big
As the real thing, I swear,
And if you look at it long enough
You'll crash and end up there,
As a bonafide patron
A victim, per se',
Where you had planned for a visit
And now you will stay.

New rooms and equipment
New Nurses and more,
Shiny, bold elevators
And locks on the door,
Beefed up security
And an incredible view,
You'll feel like you're in Cancun
With nothing to do.

Yes, our ambience was tested
By professional slackers,
Free drinks on the veranda
Toasted oyster on crackers,
And they gave us high-fives
Back-slapping and more,
The new McCauley tower
Got the highest darn score,
Way better than Sutter
UC Davis and Kaiser,
If you bring your business to us
You'll prove that you're wiser,
Than all the other folks
Who catered to our competition,
When they get their bills, they'll suffer
Extraordinary rendition,
Yes, buyers remorse
The equivalent or worse,
They know they should have chosen Mercy
And now they are cursed.

We have the coolest billboards
Plastered all over town,
If you give us a call
You'll get a free gown.