Vomit............

Vomit never loses its gross-out feature, that's for sure. And folks, new nurses or any sentient beings, DO NOT ask Joe Bob repeatedly, if he is nauseated! The very word, triggers that person, to feel the sensation of nausea. It is a visceral memory.

Three vomits?
That's too much,
A slimy smelly
I didn't want to touch,
Yet, apparently
It wasn't an option,
Vomit #2
Was up for adoption.

What was for dinner?
I'm not too sure,
But there was some lettuce
All pretty and pure,
On my forearm
With an olive and a carrot,
Look; I like salad
But I don't want to wear it!

Many Nights Like This

There were many shifts like this, repeated over and again..........any nurse who has worked at the bedside, can attest to the most irritating of all things; the relentless demanding patient.

99 Requests

After 99 requests
In the course of twelve hours,
You have thoroughly diminished
All of my powers,
Just saying, if you suffer
A cardiac arrest,
I can not guarantee
The outcome will be the best.

Your water requisition
Ten times, just like this,
No more than five ounces
On the hour, don't miss,
Because I am your patient
And you are my slave,
Each time I pass the room
She gives a beckoning wave.

I offered the four P's
But it really seemed like twenty,
Pain, potty, and position
And many more a'plenty,
And of course I offered AIDET
(I've had it shoved down my throat).
Management loves that crap
It certainly fills up their boat.

At the end of my shift
I’m supposed to say, Thanks,
For allowing me to serve you
(The worst of old cranks),
No, instead I have pity
For your family and friends,
You treat them just as poorly
And never make amends.

Moan and Rattle

His smile is infectious..........yep, that's what people say about the kid.


It's a nasty infection
And I blame it on the kid,
He's not a pharmacist yet
Doesn't know what he did,
Coming home, with a
Class-A infection,
Hit up the old man
He wasn't wearing protection.

This otherworldly beast
Has cut me at my core,
Approaching day seven
I have Hades at my door,
Proposing special offers
To relieve me of this disease,
I have rejected each one
Though I bargained on the sneeze.

See, the cough is bad enough
But the sneeze is hell on wheels,
Each time it rips my throat
With razor blades, it feels,
I have learned from prior suffering
It's a decent bargaining chip,
Succumb to 17 lashes
From the elder Abaddon's whip.

Ah, don't worry it's just mythical
I wasn't whipped by Loki,
Although a trade was made
To clean the Okefenokee,
And I'll get to that later
If I survive this epic battle,
Why, even the cats are howling
As my lungs doth moan and rattle.

Deaf and Kind

An attentive daughter is a wonderful thing.

90 years old
Deaf and nearly blind,
A daughter named Donna
She is so kind,
Helping to navigate
Time with her father,
Clearly she knows
He's a bit of a bother.

Just waking up from
Conscious sedation,
He has all the right questions
With mixed up equations,
He simply can't grasp
Complexity now,
I answer over and over
The most basic how.

In time he will grasp
As the drugs disappear,
All those things he most know
With the help of us here,
And his surrounding family
Which decision might be best,
To solve his heart problem
Defined by this test.

Aim is the Game

Old guys...........I'm kind of one.

They talk about their junk
I wish they would not,
How lying supine
They can't make a shot,
Into a plastic urinal
I say, aren't you a guy?,
Did you never pee in your garden
They say, No; I ask why?

What the heck? are you kidding?
Man, that's what we do,
We must mark our boundaries
Why didn't you?
And this is the moment
I show that rubber tube,
Where Joe Bob imagines
He'll need a psychedelic lube.

It's where the rubber meets the road
He will give it a try,
A urinal supine
Is better than some guy,
Shoving a hose
Up his special junk,
What he thought was a capillary
Was a mighty redwood trunk,
Spewing gallons of pee
Into yonder container,
Good Lord, it's so easy
Really, a no-brainer,
And factually, I have trained
A 90 year old man,
Reminded him, what to do;
Just aim for the can.

Leaving, mostly

Due to misinformation shared with me by an office, now I have to declare my retirement date as January 1st, 2019. It's all right, it helps with my taxes, not to get the whopping PTO payout added on my 2018 income.

Anyways, I haven't written much, so now here are a couple ones regarding those aspects of life and death that are so hard to see.

Spirit and Ghosts

I felt ghosts
I heard spooky whispers,
Haunted hallways
With psychic lispers,
Working forty years in hospitals
With too much history,
Spirits lurking
In realms of mystery.

Stories are told
Not everyone approves,
Especially the religious
Who lack certain moves,
Regarding acceptance
About that other world,
They ought to loosen up
And get their mindset uncurled.

Empathic persons
Or the psychic type,
Can tune to the vibe
Beyond all the hype,
Regarding near death
Little changes; not the same,
Subtle muted signs
Near the end of this game.

Why talk about it?
Well, I'm about to head out,
I want other believers
To cast aside all doubt,
Regarding assessment
Of the person, and the spirit,
Listen closely my friends
You want to be near it.


Neither Blessing nor Curse

Gently fading
Upon the bed,
Until the angels visit
You're not dead,
But when they depart
I will feel the breeze,
Escorting your soul
O'er the grass and trees.

I will miss those moments
When I felt such things,
At the bedside
As we cut the strings,
Letting them go
No matter what age,
Just a transition
To another page.

Believe what you will
Religion or not,
Your time on earth
Is like a pistol shot,
Some kind of energy
In this vast universe,
Neither a blessing
And never a curse.