Nurse Follies: Why I don't like my Bosshole.

I'm sitting here, in immense pain and discomfort, waiting for the pain meds to kick in. Thank God I had some Vicodin in the medicine cabinet.

It all started out so simply. I did my laundry, I puttered, I napped, I got ready for work in much the same manner that I always do. I was sitting on the chair when I sneezed, and I felt something "give" in my lower cervical spine, and was immediately followed by shooting pains down both my arms. Not a good thing.

Because it was 5pm, it was far too late to call in. I figured it was just one of those little tweaks that would work itself out with some stretches and Ibuprofen. So, I go to work.

Traffic was a disaster as everyone was going to the American Royal, to see the BBQ and not sample any of it. I finally made it to work, my neck stiff, unable to turn my head, and those pains still in my arms. Others sensed my hostility, then became alarmed when they saw my hands shaking when I tried to hold a pen. Day shift coordinator calls the nursing supervisor, and the Bosshole. Night staffing is horrid, and there is literally no one on the floor that night that can do my work because no one there is Progressive Care nurse. I also hear that staffing housewide is horrible as some nurses just didn't even bother showing up for work. Why these people still have jobs, I have no clue.

I tell them I will try to stick it out. Take one for the team. A couple good souls helped with med passes and such before leaving for the day. Imagine my surprise when the Bosshole walked in the door. In scrubs! Could it be that he was actually going to take my patients so I could go home!?!

I should have known it was too good to be true. As I was sitting at the desk, staring straight ahead, he approached.

Bosshole: Is there anything I can get for you?
Me: How about a cervical collar?
Bosshole: How about some pizza for dinner?
Me: (blank stare)
Bosshole: What kind of pizza do you want?
Me: I. Don't. Care.
Bosshole: What's the number for Pizza Hut?
Me: (Giving the Glare of Death)

Bosshole disappears because ordering two medium pizzas is hard work. Meanwhile, the pain in my head and neck is so intense, I feel like I'm going to pass out. After the pizza arrives and everyone has advanced upon it like white on rice, Bosshole approaches again. I tell him that I have decided that there is no way I can "do this" for 12 hours, and I need to go away. He tells me he's going to call the house supervisor and see about them sending a float nurse.

Bosshole: I spoke with the supervisor, and they are calling around. We are the top of the list for a float nurse.
Me: That doesn't help me at all. My head is going to fall off my neck at any given minute.
Bosshole: Well, I'm going to go home and get some sleep. Hope everyone has a good night.

After he left, I used every word in the vocabulary of naughty words that you would never say in front of your parents, plus a dozen that I made up. I went from Hostile Stage to Critical Mass. One of the male techs offered to run around the hall naked if it would make me feel better. I told him not to bother...it would hurt too much to laugh.

For the next 6 hours, I worked. My coworkers were good about helping me out. The charge nurse was beside herself because no one had called about this float situation. She paged the supervisor who claimed to have no knowledge of the injured nurse on our floor, and that she would find an ICU nurse to replace me right away.

I finally got out at 3am. I suppose if I pushed harder, I could have made it to 7am...but my body was tired from having to hold my head up. I drove home without causing any accidents.

So, I will try to call my doctor this weekend, or go some Urgent Care clinic or something. Right now, I feel the meds kicking in, and I'm starting to see two of everything.