True Adventure Tales of Nursing!

Reluctant Dischargees

It always amazes me that some people don't want to leave the hospital. Hell, we nurses can hardly wait to run out the door like schoolchildren hearing the last bell before summer vacation. I don't know if it's the delicious food, the cheerful atmosphere, or all the fond memories, but some patients just don't want to leave.

Okay, it's not always the patients' fault. Sometimes it's their families. They dump the geezer in the hospital so they can have a few days' vacation from their elderly parent's demanding care. They sure as hell aren't going to hurry to pick Gramps up. Sometimes they go out of state and no one knows where to find them. Sometimes they attempt to convince us that the Gramps isn't really ready to come home. Sure, the patient still can't control his bowels, but he was like that for the last three years! We didn't break him!

One of my favorite arguments is, "We're afraid of catching the bug he had." He doesn't have a bug; he has chronic lung disease. You're not going to catch that (as long as you put those cigarettes out).

We were brainstorming the other day at the hospital, and we decided that what we really need is a meter. As soon as the doc orders their discharge, we slap that baby on the wall and inform the family that they're responsible for the bill from this point on. They can watch the dollars tick away, and if anyone actually feeds the meter, the nurses can buy chocolate. Mmmm. Nurses love chocolate.


The Navy Guy with the Tattooed Anchor

I innocently went to the bedside of the elderly gentleman who'd had brain surgery earlier that day. My first order of business was to do an assessment of the patient. I was listening to his heart when I felt someone watching me. Close inspection revealed a crudely tattooed face on his left breast, his nipple serving as a nose. Momentarily stunned, I recovered enough to turn him on his side to listen to chest sounds. On his left shoulder I was surprised to encounter a beautifully drawn naked woman, upside down.

At this point, the surgeon entered the room, saw me regarding the inverted lady and remarked, "Neat tattoos, eh? Boy, have you got a surprise in store!"

I lowered the blanket to listen to my patient's bowel sounds. I was confronted with some intriguing reading material. "Six-Inch Trench Digger," it said, and "Trouser Snake," each with an arrow indicating his genitalia. Looking up at me from the head of his penis were two eyes, and my, but it did resemble a little snake! On the shaft were the names of two women, neither of them particularly long and neither of them the name of his wife.

Hours later, when he was awake, I inquired about his tattoos. He informed me, with a certain pride, that he'd done them himself while a lad in the Navy. "But didn't they hurt?" I asked him, being a thoughtful little thing. He gave me a look that showed he'd just reevaluated my intelligence and said: "Hell, yes!" He looked quite put off.

I met this man in his golden years. I met his charming wife and lovely children. He decorated himself while young, stupid and terribly bored on a big ship in the middle of nowhere, keeping our country safe for democracy. Kids, I guess what I'm trying to say is, when you're bored, don't go tattooing yourselves.

Get someone else to do it. That way it'll be right side up.

Nurse's Nightmare

You're getting report. There's a new MI (myocardial infarction: heart attack) in ICU One. She seems stable, but there's something the off-going shift isn't telling you. They all seem anxious to leave, and her nurse doesn't want to give you a bedside report. You're left on your own to discover that she's the worst kind of patient possible . . . (spooky music) A RETIRED NURSE!

She knows all the tricks, all the code words and euphemisms, and she knows every way possible to be a pain in the ass. This woman wants the best care possible. Hell, she wants more care than she needs. She feels she deserves it; she's a nurse, she's paid her dues. She remembers everything every patient ever did to annoy her, and she's going to do it to you. And then, in a sweet voice she says, "I don't mean to trouble you, but . . ." The call bell's right in her hand, but when she thinks she needs you, she yells "NURSE! NURSE!" Hell, whenever a nurse walks by she yells it. She climbs over the side rail to use the potty chair in her room, rearranges the furniture (and mind you, she's on bed rest recovering from a heart attack), and orders two trays of food at every meal and wonders why she's vomiting after eating.

However, when visitors come, she's too weak to even push the call bell for you and sends them out looking for you. They find you busy in another patient's room and frantically tell you that she needs to use the bedpan now. Wait a minute, you think, this is the woman who climbs out of bed to use the toilet.

I don't know who bribed the doctor, but she had the shortest stay in ICU of any heart attack patient I've seen. I'm not complaining though. I am taking notes. My turn will come.

I'm retiring in 23 years. I'm going to ask for my drugs by name.