Nurse Ratched’s Place

“Who can fortell for what high cause this darling of the gods was born?” Andrew Marvell.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a nurse. I was taught through my parents’ example that there was no higher calling than to help others. Thanks Mom and Dad for teaching me to fight the good fight, and to care for my fellow man.

Here’s some advice. Don’t talk about swindling the partners in your medical practice when you’re eating lunch in a fancy restaurant. You never know if an eavesdropping nurse blogger is sitting behind you in the next booth.

My Prince and I went out to eat today to celebrate his new master’s degree. He said he’s going to hang his diploma over the toilet, so every time he urinates he can remember how smart he is, but that’s another story. I was looking over the menu when I overheard two men in the next booth talking about a satellite clinic, doctors, and partners.” Ok, I admit it, I’m nosy, and so I put up my antenna and really started listening in on the conversation.

Guy #1 was a doctor who was interested in setting up a new medical practice, and guy #2 was an accountant/banker. The doctor was interested in learning the best way to set up his practice and tax shelters while fleecing his partners. Guy #2 was more than happy to tell Guy#1 the dos and don’ts of screwing over business partners. Guy #1 is going to ask each member of the practice to invest $70,000, and the money is going to disappear into a black hole, never to be seen again. I saw the two guys toasting their good fortune when my prince and I were leaving the restaurant. And I thought nurses were the only ones who could be that malicious to their colleagues.

If a doctor asks you to invest $70,000 in a new practice, run, don’t walk to the nearest exit, but do so only after you punch him out.

Bon Appetit!

Welcome to the anniversary edition of Change of Shift. Circle this date on your calendars because this is a historical event. If a carnival can have a parent, then Kim is the mother of CoS. Thank you Kim for setting up this great nursing carnival where we can share posts in the blogosphere. Happy Anniversary!

I went to Wikipedia and found out that June 14th was a very busy day for historical events. Let’s take a look.

Napoleon Bonaparte’s French Army defeats the Austrians at the Battle of Marengo in Northern Italy and re-conquers Italy on June 14th, 1800. I love this updated picture of Napoleon. Hueina Su from Intensive Care for the Nurturer’s Soul notes that some parents are at war with their kids and suggests ways of dealing with power struggles. She says to pick your battles wisely. And speaking of battles, Flashlight One from The Forgotten Blue Line talks about what it’s like to be at war with a patient and the patient’s nurses in his post, He Has What???

June 14th is also World Blood Donor Day. Judy from Tiggers Don’t Jump sent in a post with a simple message; save a life, give blood.

June 14th is Flag Day. Look at the girls dressed up like an American flag. Don’t they look patriotic? Supporting our troops is another way of showing your patriotism. Drugmonkey from Your Pharmacist May Hate You writes about how he supports the troops.

Hawaii became a United States territory on June 14, 1900. Nurses need a nice trip to Hawaii after working with poopy patients. I’m sending Faith Walker from The Oracle a ticket to Hawaii when I win Lotto. Read her post and find out why she deserves the trip. Maybe Faith will read this book when she’s sitting on the beach. Nurse Sean said reading this book was a life changing experience.

June 14th is Mother’s Day in Afghanistan. Monkeygirl from Musings Of A Highly Trained Monkey writes about her mother in her post, Just a Nurse. Poor MamaMonkey. She wanted a MonkeyDoctor in the family, but thank goodness, it just wasn’t meant to be.

On June 14th, 1381, King Richard II of England met with the leaders of the Peasants’ Revolt. It seems as though the king had a lot of very angry citizens on his hands, and that he wanted to stop some heavy-duty bloodshed. Disappearing John also wanted to avert bloodshed during his shift, and write about his quest for peace in his very entertaining post.

Action Comics issued the first Superman comic on June 14th, 1938. Superman was faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, and could leap buildings in a single bound. But sometimes a man has to show compassion to be a superman, or super nurse. Nurse William is that kind of nurse as he cares for his patient in this post.

ER Murse sent in this post about hospitals that are trying to improve patient satisfaction scores. Take note hospital CEOs, Emergency Physician Directors, and ED Managers, ERMurse has your number. This post has nothing to do with whisky, but the practices discussed in this post make me want to drink. According to Wikipedia, American clergyman the Reverend Elijah Craig first produced whisky distilled from maize on June 14th, 1789. Kim from Emergiblog may need a stiff drink after she watches Michael Moore’s new movie, Sicko. Read her post concerning the movie.

Today is Donald Trump’s birthday. He was born on June 14th, 1946. Here he is with his wife, Melania, and their son, little baby Baron. All babies are precious. ERnursey from ERnursey-Stories from an Emergency Room Nurse writes about keeping one alive in her post, Blue Baby

On June 14th, 2007, Mother Jones, RN checks her mailbox and finds three more posts that must be included in this week’s CoS. They are too good to miss.

Pixelrn wants to know if nurses should pay for parking.

Girlvet from madness: tales of an emergency room nurse talks about leaky pipes. It’s a very messy subject.

Nursa Minor sent in this cute diddy called, “Wait for it.” It’s all about one day in the life of a nurse.

I want to thank the readers of CoS, and to everyone who submitted a post. June 14th is also International Weblogger’s Day. Today we celebrate the work of webloggers around the world. Start the party and keep on blogging.

It’s beautiful outside today and I have the day off. Maybe I’ll go to the beach. I wish I looked like this girl. She looks cute in her bathing suit. I’m getting old. That means that I don’t look cute in a bathing suit. I go to the beach wearing shorts and an oversized T-shirt that says, “Nurses Call the Shots.” My darling husband says that I haven’t changed, and that I still look like a blushing new bride. Love is blind.

I’ve been collecting some questions in the old mailbag, so it’s time for another edition of Go Ask Mother.

Here’s a question from a mental health care consumer. She writes:

Dear Mother Jones, RN–Something that I noticed throughout my treatment, good or bad, inpatient or out, was that the mental health professionals were always withholding information from patients. Why is so much information withheld from patients?

I understand that some information is withheld from patients for therapeutic purposes (like not telling anorexic patients their weights); I understand that personal information about staff is withheld for their safety and because it really just isn’t relevant. I’m asking about the other things.

Some things that are withheld are piddly, like why we are woke up at 5am when we must get our blood drawn. Why does information like that get withheld at all? I’m sure that for simple things like this there are generally reasonable, if mundane, answers. If I’m told that mundane answer, I might still not like it, but I’ll be much more willing to deal with it. If the nurse rather deflects or ignores my question, I’ll be frustrated and might make a fuss. Why is info about petty issues withheld?

If a patient asks about their rights, and the question isn’t answered, what do you expect us to make of that? I know that it makes me think that you don’t want me to know my rights so that you can violate them without my making a fuss. This is probably a big reason for why psych units have such a bad reputation, at least with people who aren’t so impaired so as not to notice this. We know that in a psych unit our rights are limited, but we know that we still do have rights, and if you don’t tell us what they are, we will be suspicious (as we should be, this is not paranoia). Why is information about our rights withheld?

Why is information about the therapy withheld? I’ve often asked, as a patient, how a particular type of therapy was supposed to be helping me, and been deflected or ignored. As an insatiably curious person, this is infinitely frustrating. I cannot even fathom why this sort of information would be withheld.

These are the largest areas of information withholding that I can think of at the moment. I would love any insight you have on why you withhold these or other types of information from patients, or why you think your colleagues might (though I certainly don’t expect you to be psychic).

Dear Mental Health Care Consumer:

You ask some very interesting questions, and I don’t know if I have the answers that you are looking for, but let’s give it a try.

As you mentioned in your letter, sometimes it’s therapeutic to withhold information. You are right when you said that it’s not therapeutic to focus on someone’s weight when they are suffering from anorexia. Staff also will withhold personal information about themselves in an attempt to maintain personal boundaries, and as a way of assisting a patient to focus on their own issues.

Patients do have the right to know about their treatment. I tell patients why I’m taking their blood pressure, and I’ll explain why the doctor wants to run a blood test. It’s courteous to let people know what is happening to them. However, I have had patients who focus too much on what’s going on around them, and not enough on what brought them into the hospital. Patients who are brought to the hospital against their will are usually angry and challenging, and it’s my job to tell them things that they don’t necessarily want to hear. Sometimes I must deflect questions and comments as a way of leading patients back into a therapeutic conversation.

I’m not sure why information about therapy was withheld from you. Every case is different, but I can tell some reasons that I have noted in the past. I was taught that therapy is a voyage of self-discovery, and that we do a disservice to our patients if we tell them what we think about their situation, or what to do next. If a patient says, “I feel really mixed up. What do you think I should do,” I was taught to answer, “That’s not up to me. What’s important is what you think you should do.” I know it sounds like double-speak, but it’s important that patients make their own decisions about how to live their lives. Maybe that’s why information about your therapy was withheld. I’m not saying that I’m giving you the right answer, I’m just saying that I’m giving you my best guess.

I hope I’ve been able to answer some of your questions.

If you have a question, please send it to me at nurseratchedsplace AT yahoo DOT com.

Here’s another book from my personal collection. I know that some people think that collecting this type of book is inane, but everyone needs a hobby. This book was first published in 1968.

“For one reason or another, Doctor Mark Bayfield had managed to get on the wrong side of every member of the Kinglake family before he had even started his new job at Northmoor Hospital. So wasn’t it going to lead to trouble when he turned out to be the only doctor who could get to the bottom of the young Gwenny Kinglake’s illness?”

The handsome Doctor Bayfield had his work cut out for him. It’s hard being the new doc on the block. Of course Doctor Bayfield marries young Gweeny after he saves her life, and they all live happily ever after. Look at Gweeny smile. It’s harder for other doctors who come to new facilities. After all, not every doctor has the opportunity to marry the boss’s daughter after he snatches her from the jaws of death.

We have a new medical director starting on our unit and I’m very anxious to see how he fits into the grand scheme of things at our hospital. I’ve met him once a few weekends ago, and he seems to be very nice. I walked up to him and introduced myself as the weekend nurse who will be calling him at all hours of the day and night when he is on call. He just stared as me. Oh for Pete sakes Doc, I’m just kidding, well kind of. He’s taking over our unit very soon, so I apparently didn’t scare him off.

I wonder if anyone told him that the nurses expect him to bring in donuts on his weekends to work. Maybe I should print up a copy of the help wanted ad I placed on my blog and put it in his mailbox at work. (Hint-hint.)

I’ll keep you posted on our new doc’s orientation to the unit.

This is last call for Change of Shift. Please send your submissions ASAP to nurseratchedsplace AT yahoo DOT com. I’ll be working on Change of Shift starting Wednesday morning, so please get your submissions into me by Tuesday night. I want to hear from you!

Meet my Great Aunt Virginia. Here she is sitting in her living room. She won’t tell anyone how old she is, but I’m guessing that she is in her mid eighties, and she’s one of my favor aunts. She’s spunky. She’s also a retired nurse. Virginia worked as a nursing supervisor in a small country hospital for many years. She’s also worked as a medical-surgical nurse, an OB nurse, and as a psych nurse. Virginia graduated from Bishop Clarkson Memorial Hospital School of Nursing on May 7, 1942, and she retired from nursing when she was 75 years old.

This is Virginia’s graduation picture from nursing school. I remember when I told her that I was enrolling in nursing school. She was so excited for me, and she’s always has been one of my biggest fans.

This is an picture on my Great Uncle Lowell.

Great Aunt Virginia and Great Uncle Lowell have a very special story. Virginia secretly married Lowell during World War II just before he went to Europe. Nursing students couldn’t be married back then and she would have been kicked out of school if anyone had found out about the nuptials. Uncle Lowell was captured by the Germans in 1943 and spent 24 months in a POW camp. He was very sick when he returned home from the war, and Aunt Virginia nursed him back to health. This picture was taken of them after the war. Lowell died a few years ago, and Virginia misses him very much.

Virginia told me that she is very worried about what’s happening within the nursing profession. She said that nurses are being exploited by hospitals, and she wishes that nurses would band together to stop the abuse. My aunt is a very wise woman.

I’m flying home today and I hope I get home on time and in one piece. I hate flying. I also hate the idea of working 16 hours at the hospital tomorrow. Enjoy your weekend.

Mom and I took a tour of Page County yesterday. Our first stop was Clarinda, which is the county seat. Here’s a picture of the courthouse. The whole town is cute. There are antique stores and little shops everywhere. Here are some fun facts about Clarinda:

Clarinda was founded in 1853.
Johnny Carson donated money to the Clarinda Lied Center.
Actor Billy Aaron Brown who starred in John Ritter’s last television sitcom is from Clarinda. (My Aunt Sue was one of his schoolteachers).
Alton Glenn Miller was born in Clarinda.

Speaking of Glenn Miller, the good people of Clarinda are busy getting ready for the 32nd Annual Glenn Miller Festival. People around here are very excited about the upcoming event. Just in case you don’t know, Glenn Miller was a very famous musician and bandleader back in the 1940’s, and he died in a plane crash during World War II. Glenn Miller is Clarinda’s favorite son. I took some pictures as I walked around the town square. Here’s a picture of a Glenn Miller street banner.

Here’s a street sign located by the courthouse.

Here’s a sign outside of a quaint antique store.

Local Glenn Miller fans have formed the Glenn Miller Birthplace Society. The society organizes the yearly Glenn Miller Festival. Glenn Miller fans travel from all over the world to attend the event. I met a man from England when I went into the office to buy a tee shirt and some postcards. I also met Glenn Miller’s son. He traveled to Clarinda from Los Vegas. He’s a very nice man.

Our next stop was the old Clarinda Asylum for the Insane. Today it’s called the Clarinda Treatment Complex. It has a much nicer name now. The original hospital sat on 513 acres and was opened in 1888. Unfortunately the hospital administrator didn’t have enough time to take us to the hospital’s museum. Maybe he had second thoughts about showing us how patients use to be treated in the hospital. Drat! And of course, due to HIPPA laws I did not take pictures of patient care areas. However, I was able to take a picture of the front of the building. I think Nurse Ratched would like working here.

Our next stop was Shenandoah. It’s my mom’s old hometown. It’s also the hometown of the Everly Brothers. They were the guys that sang, “Wake Up Little Susie.” This sign is in the Greater Shenandoah Historical Museum. This sign came from the town’s original speed trap.

I think every little town in Iowa has a museum. And of course I gravitate to the medical displays. Here’s an old faded picture of Shenandoah’s first hospital.

Here’s old all-purpose quarantine sign. I also saw a Scarlet Fever quarantine sign in the museum.

This is the office equipment of old Dr. E.J. Gottsch. Mom said she knew Dr. Gottsch when she was a little girl. She said he was a grump. Maybe he was grumpy because lots of his patients were in quarantine.

That’s it for today. I plan to go see some of my relatives tomorrow. They’re all a little crazy just like me. Well, they say the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Welcome to the Middle of Nowhere. Just in case some of you city slickers don’t know, these are cows. Two of these old gals didn’t know what to make about the crazy lady taking their picture. I took this photo from my aunt’s backyard.
Can you say moo?

I made a new friend today. His name is Darwin. He has a museum in Villisca, Iowa. Here’s a picture of Darwin and my mom. Darwin is a modern kind of guy. Notice the the cell phone clipped on his bib overalls. Yep, people living in Iowa are high tech.

Here is the inside of Darwin’s museum. He said he opened it a long time ago because he didn’t want these historical relics deteriorating out in local barns and garages. As you can see, Darwin has some really cool stuff.

Infection control nurses, please take note. This is an old whooping cough quarantine sign. Thank goodness we haven’t had to use these in a long time.

This painting is in Darwin’s museum. It was painted by a local artist. It’s a picture of the Villisca Ax Murder House. On June 12, 1912, eight people, six of them children, were bludgeoned to death with an ax while they slept. The murders were never solved. Darwin said he bought the house in 1998 and is currently restoring it to its original appearance. He also mentioned that the house is haunted. Darwin gave us a tour of the place after he ate lunch.

Darwin gave us the grand tour. Here is a picture of a room where two little girls were killed. The bedroom was very creepy.

Here’s where the parents were murdered.

Darwin said that people hear children laughing in the house and that there are cold spots in this corner of the kitchen. Darwin rents the place out for sleepovers at $250 a night, but Darwin said that a lot of people leave the house before the night is over. Can you guess who his biggest repeat customers are? Nurses, of course! Go figure. I guess that proves that most nurses are a little crazy. I gave Darwin my name and email address and asked him to pass on my contact information to the nurses that keep coming back to the house. I hope I hear from them because I’d like to ask them what draws them to the house.

See, I told you we know how to have a good time in Iowa. Come back tomorrow for more Notes from the Middle of Nowhere. In the meantime, start typing up your posts for Change of Shift. I’ll be hosting Change of Shift on June 14th. Please send your posts to nurseratchedsplace AT yahoo DOT com. The deadline for sending in your submissions is June 11th.

Hi everyone. Just wanted you to know that I made it to Iowa in one piece. The flight wasn’t bad if you don’t mind traveling like a sardine packed in a can. Sheesh! Whatever happened to flying the friendly skies? Word to the wise, eat before you travel on a plane. They don’t even serve you peanuts anymore.

Things sure haven’t changed much since I moved to the big city. It was a long drive from the airport to get to my mom’s place. I’m blogging from my mom’s computer. She’s my editor and chief proofreader. Scalpel, you’re right. There’s corn growing everywhere. Its well on it’s way to being knee high by the Fourth of July.

Well, I’m going to visit with the kinfolk for a little while, and then I’m going to bed. In the meantime, read these fun facts about my home state.

The state bird of Iowa is the goldfinch, which should not be confused with any criminal masterminds who tried to kill James Bond.

The 31st president of the US – Herbert Hoover – was born in West Branch, Iowa. This is a fact that Liberals living in Iowa would like to forget.

The state song of Iowa is “Corn! Corn! Corn!”, which consists entirely of people singing the word “corn” for 5 minutes, and was the inspiration for Monty Python’s “Spam” sketch.

Burlington, Iowa is home to Snake Alley, the crookedest street in America, which rates an impressive 9.5 on the Haliburton crookedness scale.

Cedar Rapids, Iowa is home to the world’s largest breakfast cereal company – Quaker Oats. I grew up in Cedar Rapids, and thanks to my childhood, I can’t look at a bowl of oatmeal in the morning.

Check in tomorrow and I’ll show you around the place. Let’s have some fun in the middle of nowhere.