Well, I got through the first weekend of computerized charting with no permanent wounds. It was sort of disappointing because I felt like that was all I was doing. Instead of seeing my patients, I was charting. Just when I thought I was done, I discovered I had ten other things I missed.
Our unit has a bunch of computers on wheels, which we call cows (Computers On Wheels). In an effort to bring some light in a rather painful experience, some of us nurses named some of them. It not only made for smiles, but also enabled us to tell who's computer was who's for the shift. We only got three named: Mac and Cheese, Lil Devil, and Rastus.
The next night, we reported for work and the fun little name stickers we made were gone. We queried as to why.
Day Nurse: We felt it was not very professional looking.
Me: I heard no such complaints.
DN: One was even offensive.
Me: Which one??
DN: Rast Ass.
Me: You mean Rastus? Rast-Us? Can you not read??
DN: Well, we're going to give them numbers instead of names, and we're going to use the little label maker.
And they wonder why morale sucks? Because some people suck all the joy right out of our jobs, and relish in doing so. These people are Bossholes in training.
Not that just the night nurses were mumbling about the killjoys of the unit, but I heard day nurses mumbling as well. So, it's not a shift thing.
I've really got to get my transfer papers in order.
Mom just left the house. She came over and we went on a preemptive shopping strike. Everyone waits until Wednesday to buy their Thanksgiving meal crap. We thought we'd be clever and go tonight. Our first stop: Costco, where their turkeys were roughly the size of small chickens.
After that, we went to the dreaded Land of Sam where thousands of people had the same idea. Fortunately, the turkeys were bigger. Unfortunately, we had to wait in the checkout line forever...and we still didn't get everything we needed.
This will mark the first time I have hosted the Thanksgiving feast. Mom is going to help with food preparations. It should be good. I'll try to take lots of pictures.
Now, I must do some cleaning, staying up as late as possible. I'm working extra tomorrow. Christmas is approaching, and I haven't even thought about buying gifts yet.
My old hometown has a myspace page. Actually, to call it my hometown is a bit of a stretch because I only lived there for two years then got the hell out after I graduated high school. Population under 800, no stoplights, one-car police department, and the only thriving things about this place was the gas station/grocery store, and the local pub that I waited tables at during my junior year. Incidentally, farmers are the worst tippers. Ever.
So, I get this email from the person who created this hometown myspace tribute. The county rag is doing a blurb in their paper about the myspace page. Apparently, a slow news week. At any rate, the letter beseeches us to post a comment about the town, a memory, something that the county paper could possibly include in this news story.
I sat back and thought about what sort of comment I could write, something worthy of mentioning in paper (probably next to the school lunch menu for the week). I couldn't come up with jack. Truth be told, I really hold no love for that place. Too many bad memories crammed into two years. And the town was full of really strange people. Yeah, it can boast that the guy who was the lead singer of Paul Revere and the Raiders was from there, but there was also a guy who would walk through town wearing combat boots and a loincloth. I don't think I could put that as a comment, though.
Maybe I could write: "Whenever I think of this place, I get nauseated and my ass twitches." I'm sure they wouldn't print it, but at least it would be an honest answer.