Huh? It's May?

Three finals down. One more to go. I? Am one happy camper. I've got an entire summer off, vacation in NC in June, and I am not as destitute as I thought I'd be. (Although you jackasses at PHEAA can suck it, for cutting state grants for the coming school year.)

Clinicals start in August, and with them comes the attendant BS money grabs by the school uniform place, the place that wants us to buy our "business casual uniform" (Either it's business casual or it's a uniform. Frankly, I think I'm grown up enough that I can figure out that belly shirts, whale tails, and spandex are not appropriate business attire, nor are they appropriate for my body type. Sheesh.)

I plan on doing a whole lot of jack for at least a week or two. (And if by "jack" I mean, working a half a jillion hours to train myself for a new, non-butt-wiping job, then yes... carry on.)

Speaking of non-butt-wiping jobs... (and their inherent need to exist) one of the short termers called in sick for her last weekend on the job (Geeeeee, really?) and my assignment Saturday consisted of teh following.

Pt 1. Hueueueueueuegely fat. Got pissed at me for not checking her husband's blood sugar, even though A. he's not a patient, B. if he's that brittle of a diabetic, he should have his own shit with him. His response to my offer of crackers/peanut butter/juice if he felt his sugar was too low "Oh, if I pass out, I'll just blame the hospital." Farker.

Pt 2. In isolation for MRSA. Demented LOL, who mercifully thought I was OK and didn't try to beat me up.

Pt 3. Also in isolation for MRSA (there's a theme), was going batshit insane a day or two ago, but left me alone for the most part.

Pt 4. HUEUEUEUEUEUEUEUEUEUEGLY fat, with rotting, bleeding sores up under her gut flap. Screamed like a banshee when we cleaned/dressed them. I went home Friday with the smell of those wounds stuck in my nostrils. (God Bless the ER Staff who cathed her for us. They should get gold spelunking helmets.)

Pt 5. The world's most annoying trach patient. If TWMATP does not get ativan exactly when first demanded, TWMATP will ring incessantly, rattle the bed, bang the remote against the bed, and generally work themselves up. Then they will complain because they can't breathe (while holding their breath.) They're also in isolation, refuse to use the bedpan, and the doc, in his infinite wisdom, took out their cath. We're in there every 20 seconds because TWMATP pees the bed constantly. (And we know that sitting in urine's really healthy...)

Pt 6. HUEUEUUEUEUEUEUGELY fat. Pooping clots of blood that more closely resemble a placenta than anything that should be coming out of an anus. At least she rolled well.

Pt 7. Confused old guy. Also in isolation. Kept trying to pull the oxygen sensor off his forehead. Why it was on his forehead, I have no idea, but it kept us both amused.

Pt 8. Mild-mannered, bi-pap patient. Family was swell, and easy to deal with.

Pt 9. Walkie talkie that I only went in to see to grab vitals for. She was a dream, and balanced out the other folks out.

Observations:
1. If you are topping 350 pounds, lets get something straight. I. AM NOT. FEEDING YOU. You are obviously capable of moving food from point A into your head-hole. You don't need me to do it for you. Don't tell me you can't move your arms, because I see you talking on the phone every 15 seconds...

2. I know that testing everyone for MRSA when they're admitted to our unit sounds like a totally smart idea. But if we're going to throw everydamnbody into isolation, could you at least be sure to bump up our supply of isolation gowns?

3. If you're going to give 2 week's notice, you only work weekends, and you have a sporadic (at best) attendance history, lets just do ourselves all a favor, and pretend you quit on the spot. Don't give us false hope that you'd grow a pair and actually show up when you're scheduled. P.S. I hope you have to pay 3 semesters of tuition reimbursement back, beeyatch.

That is all.