Nurse Ratched’s Place

It’s probably a good thing that I’ve been in hospital orientation and away from my computer this week. There are some people out there that need their ears boxed. Let’s start with Apple Inc. Who was the idiot that approved Apple’s short-lived iPhone application, Baby Shaker? The application let users silence an imaginary crying infant by shaking the multimedia device. Wow, what fun, allowing users to create a brain damaged baby. Apple’s offensive app was on the market for just two days. They stopped selling it after child welfare organizations went on a rampage. Apple spokeswoman Natalie Kerris said in a statement that the software was “deeply offensive” and should not have been approved for sale. Well, Duh! I hope we don’t see any more screw ups from Apple like this one while Steve Jobs is out on medical leave.

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Then we have the case of the of the upcoming Showtime series, NURSE JACKIE, starring Edie Falco. I was so excited when I heard that a talented actress like Edie Falco was slated to portray an emergency room nurse in an Original Showtime Series. Then I watched the promo. I don’t know what I found more offensive, the part where the doctor grabs her boob, just because, the rampant sex, or when Nurse Jackie snorts up percocets because she has chronic pain. She’s a drug addict. Sorry Showtime. That’s so Dr. House. I thought you said you were writing an original series. Let’s make a bet. Their technical adviser isn’t a nurse.

The writers of this show tell viewers that Nurse Jackie walks the line between being a sinner and a saint. I say that she is another missed opportunity to showcase nursing in a positive light. Stay tuned. Sandy Summers from the Truth About Nursing will have a lot to say about this television show.

(Editor’s Note: Hat tip to Kim from Emergiblog for telling me about this upcoming TV show. I don’t have a cable. Now I have one less reason to get it.)

Before I sign off, one of my readers asked me to help him out. Edward J Gordon, RN is doing some research for a book and he wants to hear from you. The book is about burnout. I’m sure most of you know what that is. Here’s what Edward said:

I sure would like to understand what’s at the heart of burnout. What is it that kills us about nursing? What is it that makes us so unhappy? Almost everyone I work with is either trying to get into NP school, or CRNA school, or is already taking classes-as if there were some unlimited amount of jobs away from the bedside. I think if I were younger and wanted to leave the bedside, I’d leave nursing altogether, become an IRS agent or something (I like numbers.). It seems like caring kills. It kills us personally to care for others. It turns us into something we are not. But is that a bad thing or a good thing? And is it this kind-of spiritual suicide that’s at the heart of burnout? I’m just wondering.

Please send Edward an email at EdGordonRN@cableone.net if you can help him out.

This poor old nurse looks tired. See the bags under eyes, and the tired expression on her face? I feel her pain. I bet she’s going through hospital orientation.

I can’t believe it. I made it through my first week of orientation in one piece. Getting up at 3 AM in the morning and commuting into Big City is really rough. I’ve been putting a lot of thought this week into what I was going to tell you about UGH. Believe me, I want to tell you a lot of really great stories about that place. But here’s the thing. I can’t tell you anything about UGH. Congress truly wants me to keep my mouth shut. Rules are rules you know, and Big Brother, err, I mean our benevolent leaders are real sticklers about the rules. So, sorry guys, my lips are sealed.

Now I must tell you one thing about UGH before I move onto other subjects on my blog. There’s a reason for this. It’s because nurses need to know that there really is a place in the universe where we are revered as health care professionals.

UGH nurses are treated with admiration and respect. I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m just saying that because I’m a new nurse at UGH. I know that I am an UGH rookie, but please don’t forget that I’m also a hardcore cynic. It takes a lot to impress an old warhorse like me. Imagine my reaction when I saw a building on UGH’s campus that was named after a famous nurse. Yeah, UGH rocks.

After working 32 years in the private sector, I feel like I’ve just landed in Oz. It’s too bad that I won’t be able to tell you if I run into the Lollipop Kids as I skip down the Yellow Brick Road.

Do you see this? This is the time I have to start getting up in the morning. Some of you asked me why I dubbed my new employer UGH. Now you know why. It’s 3 o’clock in the morning and I’m blogging about going to work. UGH! Now where’s my freakin’ coffee?

Holy cow! I can hardly remember when nurses use to wear these types of uniforms. They were so white, so professional, so spotless. Believe me, my uniform wasn’t white and spotless when I went home after a long shift at the hospital. I spent many hours after work fussing over stains on my uniform. Barco made a ton of money off of me. I ended up throwing a lot of uniforms out because I always wanted to look professional. I wish that nurses still wore their caps. Yes, I’m just an old fashioned girl at heart.

I stopped wearing my white uniforms about 20 years when I became a psychiatric nurse. I missed my nursing uniforms and I was thrilled when I found out that I was going to get to wear them again at my new job at UGH. Hallelujah! I was going to get to look like a nurse again. I hopped into my car and sped off to the mall.

Images of Florence Nightingale danced in my head as I walked into the uniform boutique. A perky clerk who offered to show me all the latest fashions greeted me at the door. I was amused by what I saw. I’m still trying to figure out why someone would put Betty Boop and her Harley Davidson Motorcycle on a scrub top. I went for something a little more age appropriate, so I bypassed the Disney Beauty and Beast scrubs and I bought three pairs of white twill nursing pants with elastic around the waist and four flowered scrub tops. I really miss my white uniforms, my nursing cap, and my navy blue cape. You young people just don’t know what you’re missing. Maybe next year I’ll take a walk on the wild side and buy a few uniforms sporting Snoopy prints.

Do you remember Neil Sedaka? He was a teen idol back in the 1960s. Neil was a clean-cut guy that sang songs about falling in and out of love. One of his most poplars songs was a number called, “Breaking Up is Hard to Do.” Well, I’m here to tell you that Neil didn’t know what he was talking about. The whole thing can be pretty darn liberating when you’re leaving a hospital.

Many of you already know that I am leaving my job at the Greatest Hospital in the World. I fell in love with my job at GHW almost ten years ago, but it’s over. I found another job, and I gave GHW my resignation letter two weeks ago. I shocked a lot of people when I told my boss that I would hang out and work until the end of the schedule. People just assumed that I would tell the hospital to F-off and walk out the door. But not me! I’m a professional, and I’m glad that I stuck it out. I’ve been embracing a new mantra during my last days a GHW. It’s, “What are they going to do, fire me?” I call in more staff when we really need them because, “What are they going to do, fire me?” I take action, and give nursing care that is in the best interest of my patients even though I know it will upset our pinhead psychiatrist who is more interested in making money than doing the right thing because,”What are they going to do, fire me?” You get the picture. I’m loving life.

There are a couple of things that I’m going to miss when I leave GHW. I’m going to miss the blog fodder that GHW generated for my blog. Mr. Grinch was a priceless source of material and for that, I’ll always be grateful. I’m going to miss my coworkers. We’re going to stay in touch. Thank you Facebook. My coworkers are also going to read my blog so they can keep up to date on what’s happening at my new job. I’ve taken a job at UGH. That stands for Undisclosed Government Hospital. I’ll be writing about my new adventures as a federal civil servant. Stay tuned!

Extra, extra, read all about it! A local tabloid newspaper printed a story last week about Mr. Grinch, the CEO at the Greatest Hospital in the World. The story spilled the beans about Mr. Grinch’s paycheck. He makes over a half million dollars a year. The story also revealed the hefty salaries and compensation packages given to other hospital executives. Mr. Grinch is living the high life while the rest of us are working our butts off for slave wages. Needless to say, the nurses are pissed off.

I didn’t know about the article until I read an inner office email sent to the staff by Mr. Grinch. This is what it said:

Dear GHW Family:

As you may know, a story about the GHW was published in a local rag newspaper. I am personally saddened about the portrayal of our organization because the story makes me look like a jerk, which I will not confirm or deny because my lawyer told me to keep my mouth shut. The hospital didn’t participate in this article nor did we provide information to the paper. We aren’t that stupid. The information included comes from publicly reported data on our hospital’s Form 990, which is the tax form filed by non-profit organizations. The newspaper took publically available data, retold it in a negative way, and took everything out of context. Newspaper bad. Hospital good.

Who are you going to believe? Trust me. I’m the guy who signs your paycheck. I am constantly impressed by the strength of our hospital family and our ability to stand together in the face of challenges and adversity.

Hugs and kisses, Mr. Grinch

He called us family. How sweet. I thought we were just “valued employees.” I guess he is just showing us how much he cares when he makes us work harder with less staff. After all, they say that adversity builds character. And shame on that newspaper for trying to confuse readers with the facts. That’s just rude.

I’m sure that our hospital PR department is working overtime this week trying to put the shine back on Mr. Grinch’s fake halo. I’d love to throw a pie in Mr. Grinch’s face. It’s OK. He’s family.

Buckle your collective bargaining seatbelts. According to an article in the New York Times, Two of the nation’s fastest-growing labor unions — the Service Employees International Union and the California Nurses Association — ended a bitter yearlong dispute on Wednesday by agreeing to work together to unionize hospital workers and push for universal health coverage.

These two nursing unions have heeded the words of Mother Jones and have formed a powerful alliance. Why now? There is a perfect storm brewing in our country. We’ve been living the American Dream in reverse. Adjusting for inflation, average wages are lower than they were in the 1970s, and our minimum wage is lower than it was in the 1950s. Nurses and other health care professionals are working longer hours under deteriorating working conditions. There is a reason for the nursing shortage. We are buckling under the stress and nurses want change. How many times have you heard someone say, “When are we ever going to get a union in this place?” The unions say it’s time to organize now.

Hospitals have always exploited the divisions that have existed in nursing in order to enhance their bottom line. Mother Jones preached the power of collective bargaining and now two bitter union rivals are coming together in order to push for a better health care system and a law that would make it easier to unionize workers. Nurses have always resisted joining unions. We’ve always viewed ourselves as “good girls.” Good girls don’t strike. Good girls don’t walk picket lines. Good girls don’t make demands. Well let me tell you something ladies and gentlemen of the nursing profession. You’re not a good nurse if you don’t stand up for yourself and for your patients. Just like Mother Jones, good nurses raise hell when it’s time to take action. The divisions in nursing are dissolving and it’s time to fight back. I’m Mother Jones, RN and I support labor unions.

Need a little motivation? Watch this YouTube video. Listen for the shout out to Ma’ Jones.

Barbie just turned the big 5-0 this year. Doesn’t she look great? I don’t know too many 50 year old women that can still fit into a size 0 pair of skintight pants. Barbie and I grew up together and I always wanted to grow up to be just like my Barbie Doll. She had the coolest clothes, drove a sports car, and lived in a dream house. I wasn’t sure that I wanted a boyfriend like Ken. He was kind of dorky. Sorry, Ken. You just weren’t my type.

Barbie was the type of girl who could do anything. She was always the Home Coming Queen, the coolest girl at the malt shop, and the prettiest girl at the beach. When it came to career choices, my Barbie always wanted to be a nurse. Look closely. Barbie was a three-year diploma nurse. In your face ANA. Not everyone has to go to a four year school to became a nurse.

Here’s a YouTube video about Nurse Barbie, and Doctor Ken. Happy Birthday, Barbie!

This weekend a man came to my unit and rang the doorbell a half an hour before visiting hours were to start. I opened the unit door and a large burly man wearing sunglass and a dark suit asked me if a certain patient was on my unit. Of course I told him that I couldn’t say who was on my unit because of HIPAA. Without smiling, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out his ID. He was from the CIA. Then he repeated himself and waited for my answer. I looked at the badge and the picture on his ID, and then I asked the man if he had official or personal business on my unit. His eyes dropped to the floor. He stammered and said that he came to the hospital because he wanted to visit his neighbor. I told him that was very nice, but that he was going to have to wait until it was time for visiting hours just like everyone else. I also let him know that due to hospital policy, he was going to have to secure his weapon with security before he could come onto the unit. He protested. “ But I’m with the CIA!” he said. I smiled. “I know you’re with the CIA, but I’m the charge nurse.” I won.

I don’t care who you are. Never get into a power struggle with a charge nurse.

The public is discovering a dirty little secret that nurses have known about for years. Some doctors are jackasses who can’t find their way out of a box. It’s true. There are some doctors out there I wouldn’t recommend to my worst enemy. Now, thanks to the Internet, patients can log onto websites and share their medical horror stories with the rest of the world. Right? Not so fast. According to this news story, some doctors are asking patients to agree to what amounts to a gag order that bars them from posting negative comments online.

Some doctors are whining about websites that let patients doctor-bash. They call it “tabloid journalism.” I beg to differ. It’s called free speech. People have always complained about their doctors. I bet that even Hippocrates had a few disgruntled patients. Personally, I would NEVER see a physician that insisted that I sign a waiver agreement that would keep me from sharing my opinions about them on the Internet. More proof that some doctors are total jerks.