It's about neatness...................

Tangled-String Theory

We talked about this
Just last night,
How some people are neatniks
And are willing to fight,
About the necessity of order
And the fixed way of things,
While others like myself
Give disorder a fling.

It would be totally untrue
To call me a slob,
But a passion for neatness
Isn't a part of my job,
I just can't get fanatical
About the placement of the linen,
I place vital signs and viability
At the end and the beginnin'.

I admit to being totally frenzied
When the lines are all twisted and coiled,
In a moment, I nearly lose all control
As if my brain and my blood have been boiled,
And according to tangled-string theory
This phenomenon cannot be prevented,
Like a contortionist freebasing adrenaline
Within minutes, I am totally demented.

Suffice to say, in the above scenario
The neatness of my lines, holds no rival,
I say, screw all the linen and the plastic essentials
I know the secret to my survival,
And if I know where the essential cables and IV's
Are attached to the patient and pumps,
I can pretty much guarantee, that after 12 hours
My patient won't be in the dumps.

Every nurse has their particulars
And our priorities, don't necessarily match,
I've seen so many patients die, during a bath
The group qualifies as a classified batch,
And if you're rustling around, with your mind on the neatness
Of the furniture, room and possessions,
You might overlook some physiological disaster
While attending to your neatness obsessions.

Fibril_late;
5/4/08