Merciless heat + sitting idly at the computer while eating 5 gallons of ice cream = my expanding waistline. I never could get into a itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie, yellow polka dot bikini, but now I can’t even squeeze into my “relaxed fit” jeans.
Shopping for ice cream was a great adventure. If you’re my age, you remember three favors of ice cream, chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. Do you know how many types of ice cream they make now? I walked into the frozen food section at my local grocery store and went into flavor overload. What the heck is Cherry Garcia? Then came the question of fat content, yeah like ice cream is healthy for you. Who are they trying to kid, and what’s the point of eating low fat ice cream? Part of the fun is eating something decadent. If someone is that health conscious, they should eat a green leafy salad and call it a day.
I hope this heat wave ends quickly, while I can still waddle to the refrigerator.
Today’s Book Report
I found this book many years ago at a thrift store when I lived in Champaign, Illinois. After I read it, I couldn’t believe someone hadn’t thrown it in the trash. Facts For The Married by William Lee Howard, M.D. was published 1912. In his book, Dr. Howard gives young couples advice on how to have a happy sex life. Wait a minute, I take that back. He told MEN how to have a happy sex life. He told women that good, obedient, God fearing wives are happy, so if they aren’t happy, it’s because they are evil, and they are going to hell. How’s that for being therapeutic.
I looked Dr. Howard up on the Internet (while I ate a third bowl of chocolate ice cream), and learned that he was more than just a chauvinist pinhead, he was a hateful bigot. Dr. Howard published an article in a 1903 medical journal that said African-American men are immoral because of their biology. Not surprisingly, Dr. Howard also hated gay men. He wrote extensively in the popular press, warning parents to keep their sons away from men he called “fairies.” He also told parents to keep boys away from “embroidery, dolls, and make-believe tea parties with girl playmates.
I’m sure glad they don’t make doctors like that anymore.
Today in New Mexico, Donna Morrow, a surgical nurse at Plains Regional Medical Center, took her Chihuahua to the vet for his shots, and ended up delivering a baby.
Morrow heard a woman screaming from the vet’s restroom, and when she investigated, she found a woman about to give birth. With the help of the vet and a 911 operator, Morrow delivered a healthy baby boy. Take your dog to the vet and deliver a baby. Just goes to prove how nurses can multi-task.
The Royal College of Nursing (RCN) survey also showed that a quarter of the nurses who were bullied changed jobs, or left nursing because the problem.
Now for the editorial:
I’m sorry, but no one is going to help nurses with this problem. It’s up to nurses to stop the abuse. I know you’ve heard me say this before, but we teach people how to treat us. Case in point; I was pulled to a medical floor this weekend and was in a patient’s room when I heard yelling out in the hallway. When I walked out of my patient’s room to investigate, I saw two nurses huddled in the hallway, cornered by a doctor. I walked up to the doctor and asked her to keep her voice down because she was disturbing the patients. She turned and glared had me. I thought, “Oh honey, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” In a rage, she screamed, “Who the hell are you?” I responded in a calm, low voice, “I’m the nurse you’re not going to talk to like that. When you can talk in a professional manner, look me up, but until then I have nothing more to say to you.” Her jaw dropped. Yeah, she was speechless. No one had set limits with her before. When the thunderstruck doctor left the unit, the two nurses I rescued told me I was going to get in trouble. They said I had to understand that doctors “get like that sometimes,” and that nurses “just have to deal with it.” I just rolled my eyes and walked away.
If I took a job on that floor, I would be fired my first day on the unit.
If that sort of behavior is deemed acceptable, it’s a good thing I worked behind locked doors.
There is nothing like kicking back after a hard day at work, drinking a glass of wine, and reading a good book. My husband picked this book up many years ago, and surprisingly, he didn’t hide it from me. It’s a satire based on BarbaraWoodhouse’s book, “No Bad Dogs: The Woodhouse Way,” in which she teaches readers how to turn the most out-of-control K-9 into a lap puppy. Today’s book report is on the book, “No Bad Men The Lovehouse Way,” by Dr. Barbara Lovehouse. In her book, Lovehouse has taken Woodhouse’s method of dog training, and applied it to men.
As a psychiatric nurse, I was intrigued by Lovehouse’s theory. She brings up a valid point that we teach people how to treat us. Let take a look at what she has to say.
Chapter I: Does Your Man Need Training?
Chapter 2: Men vs. Dogs: Some Clear-cut Comparisons
Chapter 20: When to Send Your Man to the Pound
In chapter 20, Lovehouse confesses that, although the message of the book is that there are no bad men, she lied. She said there are ALMOST no bad men, and if you have a man that can’t be trained, dump him at the pound. It sounds cruel, but she’s right. Life is too short to live in an unhappy or abusive relationship. Remember, there are fifty ways to leave your lover. If you’re in a bad relationship, choose one of those fifty ways, and get out of the relationship.
Finally, Andrea Yates gets justice. Yesterday, a jury in Houston, Texas found Yates, a former nurse, not guilty by reason of insanity in the deaths of her five children. Yates suffered from post-partum depression, and was psychotic the day she drowned her five children in a bathtub. Yates believed she was saving her children from Satan.
Her 2002 convictions were thrown out on appeal last year after it was discovered that an expert witness for the prosecution lied on the stand.
I never understood how the first jury could send her to jail. Don’t they have post-partum depression in Texas?
Just one nurse’s opinion.
Maybe it’s a sign of aging, but I don’t know what most of those letters behind a nurse’s name mean anymore. Yes, I know they indicate what academic and certification credentials someone has earned, but there are so many new ones now, I’m getting confused.
I know I’m going to stir up a hornet’s nest by bringing this subject up. Nurses are passionate about our profession’s alphabet soup. To those nurses who have worked hard to earn degrees and professional credentials, I say well done, take a bow. You’ve earned it. However, I’m not the only nurse who is confused by the alphabet soup, and if nurses are confused, how can we expect the public to understand what all those letters mean.
Sometimes, I think nurses get a little crazy about collecting letters behind their name. There are six basic types of credentials nurses may possess and use after their names.
Degree: These credentials are based on the completion of an educational program. Examples: BSN, MSN, PhD, EdD, JD.
Licensure: These credentials are based on the successful passing of a national licensure exam. Examples: RN, LPN
State designation or requirement: These credentials are similar to licensure, but go beyond the basics, designating authority and recognition to practice at a more advanced level in a state. Examples: APN, APRN, NP
(OK, so far I understand what’s going on, but now it starts getting murky.)
National certifications: These credentials are awarded by a nationally recognized certifying body, such as the American Nurses Association’s Credentialing Center, and the American Academy of Nurse Practitioners’ Certifying Board. Over the years, they have developed all kinds of “add on” letters including RN-C, RN-BC, and NP-C. These organizations have invented so many different credentials, few people know what they mean anymore. One reason for this explosion in credentialing could revolve round the revenue it generates for these organizations. You know they don’t give these credentials away. Nurses buy study guides, pay to take the tests, and must keep their credentials up-to-date by acquiring CEUs. Oh yes, developing CEUs also generate income for those organizations. Interesting isn’t it.
Awards of honors: Two examples of awards of honors are FAAN (Fellow of the American Academy of Nursing), and FCCM (Fellow of Critical Care Medicine). Those credentials are for members only, and are awarded for outstanding service or accomplishments. I doubt that many people outside of our profession know what those awards are, or what they mean.
Other certifications: Like nursing, other fields have alphabet soup. Some nurses venture outside of the nursing profession to glean additional letters behind their name.
I’ve met nurses who wear credentials like kids wear designer jeans. It’s all about the label. When I graduated from nursing school a bizillion years ago, you got an RN, period! Please, stop the insanity and lay off the alphabet soup.
Things are getting too complicated for old nurses like me.
I’m addicted to eBay, and I revel in my illness. As a history buff, I love all the cool stuff you can find online. If I had unlimited funds, my house would be crammed full with eBay treasures. By the way, my birthday is at the end of the month, so I’m including some gift ideas just in case my friends and family are peeking at my blog…..hint-hint.
I love old post cards and photographs. This picture was taken before the turn of the century in a children’s ward located in Europe.
Old books are great, especially books about the nursing profession. This book is about women serving in the Civil War and was printed in 1866. Many women mentioned in the book are nurses. Here is an example. This lady was a nurse for the Union army.
My favorite goodies on eBay are old posters. Here are two examples I just love. Thanks for looking at my wish list, and if you need anymore suggestions on what to get me for my birthday, drop me a line. I’ll be happy to help you out:-)
I first met Dr. Estes when I lived in Iowa. It was 1958 and I was three years old. My parents had rushed me to our small town hospital late one night after I broke a toe. I remember sitting on my mother’s lap as a young man in a white lab jacket walked into the exam room. Dr. Estes was new in town, and no one really knew much about him. He sat down next to me, and we talked before he wrapped my injured toe in white medical tape. He had straight, jet-black hair and the deepest brown eyes I had ever seen. I don’t remember what he said, or everything that happened, I just remember his smile and gentle manner.
The years past, and Dr. Estes took care of our community. Whenever a child came to see Dr. Estes in his office, Millie, his office nurse, gave the patient cookies. When someone was too sick to come to the office, Dr. Estes made a house call. And if someone was too poor to pay for his services, Dr. Estes took produce or other services in lieu of payment. He took care of everyone regardless of their ability to pay.
When I graduated from high school, I decided to become a nurse. I never thought of nursing as a subservient profession because of Dr. Estes’ relationship with Millie. Yes, she passed out the cookies, but she did a lot more than that. Millie and Dr. Estes worked as partners. Millie had been a nurse a long time, longer than he had been a doctor, and Dr. Estes admired Millie’s wisdom and intelligence. He always treated Millie with the utmost respect.
I remember everything Dr. Estes and Millie did for me when I was growing up, and I wanted to do the same for others. I wonder how many other people they inspired to become doctors and nurses.
Doctor Anonymous, do you remember these young ladies?
This picture was taken many years ago at a hospital golf tournament before doctors carried beepers or cell phones. These nurses are searching for Dr. A because they need orders on a new patient.
The average age of a nurse is somewhere between 48-50 years old. And if you’re in that age range like I am, you know how much things have changed since you graduated from nursing school.
Do you remember when there were no IV pumps? Nurses had to run IVs by timing how fast the fluid was running through the IV chamber. Hanging piggyback antibiotics was always an adventure, especially if you were running IVs on multiple patients. The trick was getting back in time to switch bottles once the piggyback was empty, otherwise the patient’s IV would clot off.
Do you remember when there were no cell phones or beepers? It wasn’t easy tracking down a doctor when you needed something. Finding the doctor after hours was an art, and required a wealth of information at your fingertips. I learned the favorite watering hole of every doctor at the hospital. I knew the names of their wives, and the names and phone numbers of their mistresses. Tracking down a doctor took guts. On occasion, when a doctor took his phone off the hook because he didn’t want to be bothered, I would have the police go and knock on his front door, and tell him to put the phone back on the hook.
Do you remember when there were no computers or fax machines? Nurses were expected to be stenographers, typing up reports they received over the phone from other hospital departments, and hand delivering them to the doctors as they made their rounds. Nurses were also expected to give up their seat when a doctor came into the nurses’ station.
Do you remember when you HAD to wear a white dress, white nylons and nursing shoes, and a nurse’s cap? The dress was hard to keep white (you know what I mean), the nylons were uncomfortable and would run, and the hat was always getting tangled up in IV tubing while you were counting those infernal drops. At the end of my shift, I looked more like a bag lady than an angel of mercy.
There are so many things I remember, and so many things I wish I could forget. What do you remember about the good old days?
Did your friends ever talk you into going on a blind date? My two friends convinced me to go on a blind date when I was in nursing school. We went out as a group. My date looked like Moe. He was a nice guy, but he just wasn’t my type.
I went to nursing school in the backwoods, redneck town of Danville, Illinois. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I moved there. During the 1970s, the biggest social event in Danville involved putting on bed sheets, going into a Black neighborhood every Friday night, and burning a cross. Seriously, I’m not kidding. Mike, my blind date, was a native son. His idea of a successful life was getting a job hauling garbage for the county, and earning enough money so he could go out drinking every weekend with the boys. He thought it was nice I was going to be a nurse, but said I was wasting my time. He said a woman needs to “know her place,” and that place is in the home after she gets married. Yeah, right Jug Head.
I shudder to think what my life would be like if I had married a guy like Mike. I get queasy just thinking about it. As soon as I graduated from school, I packed up and moved out of Danville as fast as I could, never to return again. Today, I’m married to the most wonderful, enlightened man I’ve ever met. Sometimes you really do get to live happily ever after.
If you’re looking for fair and balanced news commentary, stop reading. I am an opinionated nurse with a lot to say about the news. I will try to keep my comments about current events brief and to the point. I will also be respectful of others, and I ask that if you want to comment, you do the same. So now, on with the show.
News flash! Researchers at Johns Hopkins University just discovered that ingesting certain types of mushrooms produces feelings of euphoria. Well, duh! I thought everyone knew that. The scientists at Hopkins must be too young to remember Timothy Leary.
The research suggests that “magic mushrooms” containing psilocybin, a plant alkaloid that affects the brain’s serotonin system, could be an effective treatment for depression, anxiety, and drug dependence. According to Hopkins researchers, the feeling of wellbeing produced by psilocybin lasts for at least two months.
If the research pans out and the drug companies cash in, I predict these little botanical morsels, also known as Boomers, God’s Flesh, and Hippieflip, will change how we live. Drug companies will mount huge ad campaigns, promoting the use of new drugs such as Nirvana-zide, Shroomzac, and Haldo-high. We might even see full page ads in USA Today, featuring elated house wives ingesting their daily dose of chocolate covered shroom pills.
The nursing profession will feel the impact of any further research involving the use of elicit drugs. Maybe someday medication carts will include drawers for bongs, pipes, and roach clips. Nurses may also have to update their patient education materials to include information on ways to roll a joint before smoking medical marijuana, and how to determine when it’s time to replace a worn out water pipe.
DuPont always said there’s better living through chemistry.
Blaming the Victims:
A physician and two nurses were arrested this week in Louisiana on suspicion of second-degree murder. Louisiana Attorney General Charles C. Foti Jr. said the healthcare workers were playing God when the allegedly killed four patients in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
The Monday morning quarterbacks are gearing up. Were the deaths a result of murder or mercy killing? Who knows, but I think that unless you were there and lived through the horror of watching your patients suffer in triple digit temperatures with little food or water for six days, you don’t have the right to judge those you lived through the experience.
I find it laughable that the attorney general is filing charges against the hospital staff while letting local, state, and federal officials off the hook. Why aren’t they being charged with murder. I will never forget hearing the words “good job Brownie” while watching televised images of people suffering in the floodwaters.
I guess it’s easier to scapegoat a doctor and two nurses than it is to go after the rich and powerful.