Auto-Flush

Hospital equipment purchasing........who decides what to buy? Who vetted the products? How were they tested, before being bought and placed into use? Shrug; I don't have any idea. I doubt if there is a single department for that, but I think, that at least there ought to be some qualified Mechanical Engineers on staff, to carefully scrutinize machines.

Take our new Auto-flushing toilets with their light-sensor switch. I don't know if it is infrared or just a motion activator, but newsflash, they aren't very reliable. In my careful observations, I'm betting on 50% success. Sometimes they flush, during the deposit, but not afterwards. Or, no flush at all. There is no fall-back handle, just a black, rubbery thing, that looks like a button. But, it isn't labelled, so one has to use a little intuition, to figure it out. I'm thinking of asking the public folks (when I do a "Discharge Phone Call) not only if the Nurses were sweet and friendly, did you get all the education you needed, and, by the way, when you used the bathroom in the hallway, was the toilet bowl flushed and clean when you got there. Odds are, they were too embarrassed to mention, that our public bathrooms often look like a post-apocalypse bathroom in Kathmandu. Quite frankly, that's what I would remember, when I got home. (of course, I'd remember the sexy Nurses too, after all I'm sorta normal).

And the term, "Discharge Phone Call", takes on a whole new meaning!

Auto-Flush

The automatic

Flushing toilet,

You don't even

Have to oil it,

Greased before

It was put together,

It operates

In any weather.

Sit right down

Or lift the lid,

Do your business

Like they did,

The Engineers

Who took a fling,

Designing this auto-

Flushing thing.

Does it work

After every expulsion?

Or do future users

Face revulsion,

When they discover

Prior remains,

After Billy-Bob

Crapped out his brains.

That's the dilemma

When adopting new tech,

If you believe the hype

From the Salesman, oh, heck,

He was a nice young fellow

Honest and sincere,

With the always-flushing toilet

The hottest thing this year.

These devices never work

As advertised,

Seven times a day

Someone is surprised,

With left-over remnants

From the last user,

Another irate customer

Acting as accuser,

Looking for the perp

Who left his smelly poop,

While the purchaser is to blame

But they're out of the loop.

We nearby nurses

Can't ignore,

So we call Housekeeping

That's their chore,

To clean up toxic

Spills and such,

Though I am betting

They don't like it much.

I suspect

The Hospital Buyer,

Wasn't a thousand

Flusher-trier,

To check if this device

Would really function,

And now we have crap

That needs extreme unction.

Luckily, Sister Euphemia

Hasn't lost her skills,

She knows everything

About flushing pills,

And wadded napkins

Always sanitary,

Though sometimes what's left

In the bowl is really scary.

She says a prayer

And calls, “Oh, Father,

Could you come to

4-East, if it's not a bother,

Because we need an Exorcist

To straighten out this mess”,

Sister Euphemia snickers

Knowing she might have to confess,

That she's overwhelmed

With this toilet disaster,

And she's merely dumping it

On the local Headmaster.

Didn't these new toilet flushers

Arrive with the latest C-E-O?

Is there some correlation

Underneath it all, that might show,

Where this organization is heading

Down the tubes, and such,

There's no way to say for sure

But we don't like it too much.

Fibril_late;

7/8/13

Big as a Barge

Three hundred eighty pounds fella, with new-onset Atrial Fib. Unsure how long he's had it, as his Left-atrium is enlarged, and his ejection fraction is only 40%. He thought the arrhythmia was due to stress at work..........a salesman / broker for multiple Nurseries. He did admit, that he and his wife, do love to eat (she's 200 pounds plus, herself). He was shocked (cardioverted) twice, and got back into Sinus Rhythm. He'll take some meds for a few months and see if he stays in rhythm. I'm betting he doesn't diet, but I'm the perpetual cynic, aren't I?

Big as a Barge

A BMI of forty-eight

Admit it now, that's too much weight,

To carry around on your skeletal frame

Regardless if you're a guy or a dame.

It's really such a case of denial

A thousand excuses in your personal file,

Categorically, ignoring the fact

You are obese, don't call it an act.

It's bad for your family

When you're as big as a barge,

If your kids eat like you

They too, will get large,

Adult-onset Diabetes?

There's a childhood rendition,

Thanks Mom and Dad

For promoting this condition.

Your sleep is disturbed

Because you snore all night long,

Fat throat, heavy tongue

Makes the apnea song,

Like a snorting Bull Moose

With his mating call of Spring,

A slew of comorbidities

Is the song you will sing.

Insulin resistance

And Atrial Fib,

Yeast infection colonies

Where you once had a rib,

At the seventeenth fat roll

Down south near your gut,

And you can't even speculate

What happened to your butt.

From the front, you're a bulldozer

From the back, a Mack Truck,

At a distance you're a blimp

And in the doorway you're stuck,

But once you were a baby

No more than 12 pounds,

Now you're three times my size

Which is out way of bounds.

So, today we shocked your heart

From A. Fib to Sinus,

But I guarantee it won't stick

Until your weight becomes a minus,

And your cardiomyopathy

Will only worsen, unless you change,

Curtail your gluttonous eating

Or drop dead on the driving range.

Fibril_late;

7/10/13

Bits & Pieces

In my lifetime, I have been acquainted with three people who later committed suicide. I get it, they had pain, but they didn't have a clue regarding how much pain and suffering they were leaving to their supporters and loved ones. Usually that suicider made a lot of people miserable, even before they took the easy way out. So I don't have much sympathy for your suicidal tendencies..........you are narcissistic and grossly self-centered. Grow up or give up, but please do it quickly, Ok?

Bits & Pieces

Artists and musicians, and

Other people who made the choice,

To exit on their own terms

Maybe even crashing the Rolls-Royce,

Although, that's not usually the vehicle

More like a gun or a bridge;

But, not too many people

Lock themselves in a Fridge,

Airtight and cold

Or positively freezing,

Nor do they wrestle with an Octopus

For the ultimate squeezing.

The bystanders, stand by

What else can they do?

They can't put your brain back together

With Dollar-Store super-glue,

No, what they're left with

Are bits and pieces of your pain,

And perhaps, it's just as well

That you ventilated your brain.

Because, we all, were very tired

With that pity-party crap,

It might have worked in the beginning

When you dropped it in our lap,

But time, brought understanding

And distance showed us truth,

Your misery was founded

Way back in your youth,

Before we ever met you

Some bad luggage you've carried forever,

And in our loving relationship

You chose to use it as a lever.

So, goodbye to you

Thanks for picking up that gun,

Or you jumped off that bridge

Or dived into the Sun,

Whatever it was

You did us all a favor,

And finally, dear friend

You chose the right flavor.

Fibril_late;

7/8/13

No Coming Back

There was well-known person (celebrity) in the news recently, who made a very personal and difficult healthcare decision. This woman chose to have an elective breast removal (and reconstruction) because she carries (in her family), a genetic pre-disposition for Breast Cancer (reported to be as high as an 85% probability). Persons facing this dilemma, certainly have a daunting “possible future” of Cancer. I am not diminishing their experience by asking the big question of probability: If I might risk dying from a disease, that I know I have a greater than 75% chance of acquiring...........would I choose to remove the organ now?

Wow!    

No Coming Back

If my mom and dad had a brain cancer

Should I remove my brain?,

If I remove my nervous system

Could I eliminate my pain,

If my left leg has cancer

Should I lop off the right?

If I remove both of my kidneys

I won't have to pee at night.

Removing healthy organs

Seems drastic to me,

It was hard enough to grow them

And they certainly weren't free.

Celebrities

Described in magazines and TV,

Do a lot of crazy things

Unlike you and me,

Would you lop off your eyeballs

Just because there was a threat?

You would never see the world again

Children, beautiful flowers or a favorite pet.

Most of us have hearts

Guaranteed to disease,

If we manage to live too long.......

“So, Doctor, I ask you, please,

I want to eliminate the possibility

Of any chance of heart attack”,

Hopefully, my Doctor says, “No, Bobby

You're going down a road, where there is no coming back”

Fibril_late;

6/5/13

Last Breath

Sepsis, Cardiogenic Shock, ruptured Aortic Aneurism and a few other conditions........therapies have changed, become more precise, and yet, mortality is still very high. Our bodies are just to frickin' complex. What happened in 1995, would look the same today.

Last Breath

Not everything I write about is funny

Quite often I write about death,

As a Critical-Care Nurse, I was present

When Billy Bob took his last breath.........

And here I am editing

Words and experiences

Written way back in '95,

A shadow of PTSD

Reawakens, and I am alive,

In the moment of back then

When the night was so long

And the Reaper, was the winner that round,

Why do our memories

Work quite this way

Is this a gem or a bear-trap I've found?

Who was there, I don't know

Just good nurses as usual, per the case,

I  remember the Cardiology Fellow; by name

I saw him at a seminar, and recognized his face,

And we worked our butts off, on this man from Stockton

Already in heart-shock before he would arrive,

Were we foolish to think, that our great solutions

Were the magic to keep him alive?

Memories can be monsters

In the complexity of our brain, they don't erase,

Working on the front-lines of life and death

It is something that we all have to face.

Fibril_late;

6/22/13

Night Shift

Nurses who have worked night-shift for years (the ones that like it), often find that even when they have reverted to normal daytime living, their body still easily shifts back into the "stay up all night" mode, without much fanfare. When my mate leaves town, I stay awake at night for hour, even if I have to work the next day.............it just seems natural.

Night Shift

Massage school

I stored it within,

I'm not a Massage therapist

Is that a sin?

Specially trained

To ease your aches and pains,

I wouldn't have lasted a month

My hands would have flopped

Thank goodness, for my brains.

Yes, I happen to have several

I use them on different occasions,

For example right now I am writing

Listening to the Rolling Stones, those Eurasians,

A band quite renowned

For crazy antics and wild living,

But still they make music for the world

Five decades of giving.

The crux of the problem?

I'm a night person, deep inside,

Ever since age 14

I read to 3am, that was my ride,

Into the ideas of countless writers

Far better than me,

I took up the typewriter at that time

As if the words would set me free.

But the night-time thing

Is nothing to scoff at,

Supposedly night shift workers

Find it easier to get fat,

But as a long time player in that realm

I argue with that silly notion,

Becoming overweight isn't nocturnal

It is an all day, full time vacotion.

A lot of skinny people work nights

I worked fifty hospitals, I declare,

Overweight nurses?

Sure, they were there,

But night shift didn't do it

And that is a fast-food fact,

A lot of stupid things to blame

But night-shift isn't the act.

How did I get to this point anyway

My mate is out of town, that's the thing,

After two days I revert back to night shift

My biorhythms feel cozy and start to sing,

A song about writing and music

Cavorting with ideas sprouting like flowers,

I start projects, write and doodle

The night wiles away past the hours.

And then yowza!, I realize that morning soon beckons

Am I working?, I'm not really sure,

Thank goodness I don't report till 10:30

Four or five hours of sleep is the cure.

Massage school

Was a great learning, indeed,

I don't use it much as an Outpatient Nurse

But at least I can chant Om, when they bleed.

Fibril_late;

6/26/13

Ugly Stepchild

If you work in the hospital, you have been up close and personal with stool. We are nurses, we mess around with the stuff.....lots of jokes to simmer down the nastiness. But when it happens to me (or you) it's time to feel the suffering. So, although this is about me, it's a universal suffering. 

Ugly Stepchild

Gurgle-gut

Is still acting up

Three months later  and more,

Not diarrhea and `

Not constipation,

But certainly

A bothersome chore,

Colitis or IBS

Or one of those irritating cousins,

I guess if I went to the

Medical books,

I would find

Variants in the dozens.  

Norovirus

Is something to shake a stick at,

C-Difficele's ugly stepchild

The odds are I won't be getting fat,

Eating seems completely undisturbed

Cramping, comes early in digestion,

The ever-present gurgling noises

Herald an upcoming decongestion.

Gurgle-gut

I thought it would go away

In a month or two,

I think the scorched-earth policy

In my colon

Was overkill; don't you?

Similar to Agent Orange

Defoliating, that Asian swamp,

Norovirus seems to have decimated my GI tract

During its historical romp.

Fibril_late;

6/30/13