Nurse Ratched’s Place

Well, hello there. I’m not sure who you are, but I think that this is the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship. Keep those gifts and candy canes coming!

Meet Little Baby Jones. I was two years old in this picture, and I was totally in love with Santa Claus. I remember my mom plopping me on this guy’s lap and standing behind the camera calling my name, begging me to look into the camera. No deal! I was too busy looking at his fake beard (I remember I thought it looked really strange), and staring into his big blue eyes. I bet I asked Santa for a baby doll and a nurse’s kit.

Every year, I’ve been telling you about my Christmas adventures at the Greatest Hospital In the World. You can read about my past Christmas adventures here and here. There has been a cosmic shift this year at the Greatest Hospital In the World. The employees received a letter from Mr. Grinch. This is what it said:

Dear Valued Employees:

Please enjoy this gift and I wish you and your family a happy and a healthy new year. Merry Christmas!

There’s been a lot of chatter around the nurses station about Mr. Grinch’s holiday spirit. Granted, the gift cards won’t buy much more than a quart of milk or a gallon of gas, but it’s a lot more than what we’ve gotten in the past. So far I’ve heard three viable theories as to why Mr. Grinch is opening up his wallet and spreading a little Christmas cheer.

1) The Barack Obama Theory:

Some people believe that President-elect Barack Obama is having an impact on Mr. Grinch. They think that Mr. Grinch is giving away gift cards because President-elect Obama wants rich people to spread the wealth. I don’t believe it. I saw a McCain bumper sticker on Mr. Grinch’s very expensive car during the last election.

2) The Blackmail Theory

Now this theory is very intriguing. God knows that Mr. Grinch has a lot of enemies who would LOVE to find something to hold over his head. Maybe he got caught stealing cookies out of Santa’s cookie jar, or cheating with one of Santa’s little helpers. I don’t know what to think about these rumors. I hope he’s not cheating on Mrs. Grinch. She’d kill him.

3) The Spirit of Christmas Theory

A few people who believe in the power of good over evil believe that Mr. Grinch has found his heart and the Christmas spirit, and that’s why he gave out the gift cards. Bah-Humbug, Mr. Grinch doesn’t have a heart. There are some mysteries that can’t be solved. Merry Christmas from the Greatest Hospital in the World.

It’s no secret. I’m a bibliophile. I’m especially entranced with collecting nursing yearbooks. I look into the faces of the nurses in each volume and I wonder how their lives turned out. Once in a while I get lucky and I learn the history behind the yearbook. Take this young lady. Her name was Lorna Calvit, and she graduated from St. Joseph’s Hospital, Phoenix, Arizona in 1937.

Faye had given her yearbook to a neighbor many years ago, and her neighbor, who was going into a nursing home, sold the book on eBay. I wrote to Faye’s neighbor and asked her if she could tell me a little bit about Faye. This is what she wrote:

Faye Calvit (she never went by Lorna) was in the nursing profession for over 40 years. She passed away in January 1992 in her early 80’s. She worked at Baylor Hospital (Dallas) in emergency and then as a floor nurse. She finally went to work for Texas Instruments from where she retired—she was head nurse there.

She should be remembered for all the volunteer work at Dallas VA and her fund raising projects for the vets. We were friends and neighbors from 1972-1992.

Nursing yearbooks pay homage to those who came before us and who set the standards for the nursing profession.

This is so funny, it just has to be true:

A professor at the University of Mississippi was giving a lecture on “Involuntary Muscular Contractions” to his first year medical students. He realized that this was not the most riveting subject, so the professor decided to lighten the mood slightly.

He pointed to a young woman in the front row and said, “Do you know what your ass hole is doing while you’re having an orgasm?”

She replied, “Probably deer hunting with his buddies.”

The professor laughed so hard he could not continue with the class.

And on the note, enjoy your weekend.

Did you read this news story about a doctor who performed an amputation by following instructions sent to him by text messages? I think it’s awesome. I wonder if Twitter would work for sending instructions on how to perform a tonsillectomy.

Look at Nurse Martha Leland necking with her boyfriend, Party Time Phil. Some how I have the feeling that Phil is trying to talk Martha into going skinny dipping. I use to be a little party girl myself in my younger days. Fun was my middle name. I never wore my uniform or nurses cap when I went out on a date. That would have been tacky. Nursing uniforms aren’t glamorous, and God knows what kind of stains could have been lurking on my clothes when I left work.

It’s a fact. Nurses can get a little wild when we go out on the town, and we really know how to party. When I was young, it wasn’t a big deal to jump into a mini dress and stilettos, and go bar hopping with my girlfriends after work. Girl’s night out met drinking shots, picking up guys, and dancing until dawn. I had a weakness for university graduate students, Irishman, and medical students that looked like Party Time Phil. My girlfriends and I would go joyriding down main street while listening to REO Speedwagan. Oh yeah, let the good times roll.

Then my friends and I started getting older, and our ideas about life began to change. The night life started looking juvenile, and we stopped drinking until we passed out. I traded in my mini dress and stilettos for mom jeans, a sweater shirt, and a pair of sensible shoes. My friends and I settled down, got married, and started having children. We would still go out together, but we started meeting at McDonald’s. Our children ate their Happy Meals while we gossiped about work and traded grocery coupons. Throughout the years, we have lived through bad jobs, good marriages, and devastating divorces. We’ve supported each other through child birth, hot flashes, empty nest syndrome, and funerals. I can’t imagine life without my girlfriends. They are my rock. They help keep me sane.

My girlfriends and I have decided that we are going on a cruise some day. I wonder if Good Time Phil is still hanging around the pool trying to pick up nurses. He better be careful. Old party nurses are a wild bunch who still know how to have a good time.

Look at this group of senior medical students working on their patient. Don’t they look impressive? The student off to the left looks like a young Ben Casey. I wonder what he was thinking. “The foot bone connected to the leg bone, the leg bone connected to the knee bone.” Meanwhile the guys hanging over the railing are yelling, “Hey, hurry up. It’s time for Grand Rounds!” I can’t blame them for their excitement. This week’s edition of Grand Rounds is being hosted by Enrico from Mexico Medical Student. Bravo Maestro Enrico for another great edition of Grand Rounds.

I’ve taken care of a lot of people throughout my nursing career, and I’ve learned a few things about the laws that govern the universe. I’m especially fond of the Parental Law of Stupidity. It states that we reap how we sow, and the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.

The Parental Law of Stupidity plays out every day on my psychiatric unit in the form of the King Tut Syndrome. This syndrome shows itself when a misbehaving prodigal son is dumped onto our unit. Little King Tut comes from a dysfunctional family. The father is an entitled jerk, the mother is a queen bee, and King Tut is the center of their universe. They expect the world to bow before them and they really get pissed off when they don’t get their way.

Here are some signs and symptoms of King Tut Syndrome:

Little King Tut hits on every female patient on the unit. He even hits on the older ladies because he thinks that he is so darn hot.

Little King Tut’s father gets really rude when the nursing staff tells him that he can’t take his son off of the unit so they can go joyriding together in his new sports car. He gives the nurses the evil eye when he is informed that the hospital’s rules and regulations apply to them, too.

Little King Tut holds court in the patient lounge every afternoon. His family and buddies drop by and try to sneak contraband onto the unit. After all, it’s not fair that Little King Tut can’t have a doobie whenever he wants to light up.

Little King Tut’s outpatient follow up plan includes a trip to a very exclusive therapeutic wilderness camp that was highly recommended on a popular daytime television show.

And the list goes on and on. There is no cure for Little King Tut Syndrome. The universe has a way of getting back at people by giving them children that they deserve. There is validity in the Parental Law of Stupidity. We really do reap what we sow, and the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Sorry everyone. I just couldn’t resist. Sarah Palin is the gift that keeps on giving. Enjoy!

It’s no secret. I’m obsessed with Apple computers and Steven Jobs, not necessarily in that order. In fact I love everything about Apple products right down to their quirky commercials. I live the iMac life.

Now I have a new Apple in my life. The good people at Online Nursing Degrees have invited me to take up residence at their new blog, An Apple a Day. I want to take this opportunity to thank them for their invitation. This is going to be fun! I’m going to be discussing nursing culture and trends, and topics covering all aspects of the health care arena. I’m also starting a new column called, Go Ask Mother. Catchy title, don’t you think? I’m ready to answer your questions concerning just about anything. Please send your questions to motherjonesrn AT gmail DOT com. Don’t be a stranger. Come by and check it out.

It looks like Nurse Adams misplaced her unit keys again. Psychiatric nurses flip out when they can’t find their keys. It’s not a good thing. A patient could find them and escape off of the unit. Then come the incident reports. Do I need to say more?

I learned my first lesson about unit keys when I cared for an old retired army nurse. She was a patient at a VA hospital. My patient had worked as a psychiatric nurse in a military hospital during World War II, and I was there when she was admitted onto our unit. I don’t remember her diagnosis, but I think that she may have had Alzheimer’s disease. Her first day on the unit didn’t go so well. She looked panicked, and she kept patting her pockets. She scurried around the unit and fought back tears as she tugged at the unit doors. She said that she was making sure that they were locked. I was a novice psychiatric nurse back then, and I didn’t know what was going. A veteran psychiatric nurses clued me in. My patient thought that she was working on the unit and she couldn’t find her keys.

The next day one of our orderlies brought in a key ring filled with old keys. He walked up to the patient and asked, her, “Are you looking for your keys?” She grabbed them and held them near her heart. She was at peace.

Note to self: Sometimes it’s the simple things that patients need most.