a thousand words blah blah blah

Geez, I hope I don't come off as preachy and/or windbag breathy in person. Or nursery rhymey. I meant to post a 3-yr-anniversary entry, but I'm giving in to personal embarrassment over Blog One.

September 17, 2007's posting isn't too bad although there's remnants (circa 2005 blogging) of my ruminating, writing, and revising in Lunatic-Trapped-in-the-Attic fashion. A picture is going to have to do given my current mood--which is still a frank improvement over being cataclysmically depressed and angry at the world. Thank you, Cosmos.

"Verdant"

I'm a Health Care Voter! Are YOU?

Our trainers reminded us to stay off the grass, and my walking partner adds that we shouldn't pick fruit from impressionable voters' gardens. (A fat red apple inexplicably dropped and discovered on the sidewalk, however, is a different story.)

One of the few residents who was home on a Sunday, and came to the door, and accepted our literature... claims Mama don't like Obama. Boss Lady puffed out her chest, declares "I'm a grandma, and I support Obama." Turns out that (number 1 - undecided) Just Your Average Joe has a dinner party to get ready for, but he'll think about it.

Boss Lady Recruiter wondered aloud about his Americorps paraphernalia: Average Joe is a fan of Mr. Bill Clinton's legacy of public works? Then again, there was also evidence of Joe's NRA membership, a Thirteen Colonies flag displayed on his front porch. As the day wore on, we got better at starting out talking fashion (versus trying to quietly interpret mixed signals and alliances). To the (number 2-leans Democrat) daily commuter with the Group Health *race 2008* shirt: "Have you heard that Local Medical Center is donating 600 bicycles to its employees to encourage would-be cyclists?". As for the guy who opened the door in his underpants (number 3-erm, not home) , we're told he'll show the pamphlet to the Missus as soon as she returns from Dreamland.

At the end of our rounds, Boss Lady asks if I'm interested in joining the vanpool another time, for additional meetups with the suburban masses. Not sure if I'd rather volunteer for over-the-phone canvassing instead, it'll depend on a combination of work/school commitments and Metro bus schedules. Anyways, before she dropped me back home, I let her know that I enjoyed the fact that she was wearing "A Woman's Place is in Her Union" T-shirt that day.

Because today's Monday...

and I have less than a week to make a birthday wish.

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pause
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Why not head over to head-nurse's blog for a helping of brain-slash-will-power? 

Friday, August 08, 2008 "Panic: Ur doin' it wrong."

I know this sounds impossible, but our hospital has been on Disaster OMGWTF Footing for the last month.

Yes, fiends and neighbors, the last month.

Disaster is usually reserved for, you know, actual disasters. Like plane crashes. And hurricanes. And, I dunno, maybe huge leaks of refrigerant, or bioactive compounds from some horrible lab somewhere that're turning everybody into bunny-hopping happy zombies with bad 80's hair.


Or the air conditioning going out. That's also a disaster. But anyway. We've been on Disaster Footing, with Code Whatevers that Signify An Internal Disaster, daily except for weekends.


Why, you ask? Because of a computer glitch.


Scheduling is all fucked up, is the short answer. Somebody somewhere has been transitioning to some wonderful computer system that's going to be all ice-cream bars and puppies in the long run, but in the short run...eesh. All the operating rooms are triple-booked, which must be fun. Can you imagine? Close your eyes....


THE SCENE: SUNNYDALE HOSPITAL
THE CHARACTERS: VARIOUS NURSES AND O.R. TECHS


Opening: MORNING in the OPERATING ROOM, wide-angle


TECH #1: What are you doing here? I'm supposed to be setting this room up for a left pharyngeal troponetic farumulunectomy!


TECH #2: Huh? I'm here to set it up for a transverse myelopical zummulation ablation!


TECH #3: Both you guys are high. I've got a complete radical sympathomimetic wangulation scheduled here for 0800.


NURSES: We don't CARE what you're here for! Just set up for SOMETHING!!


Meanwhile, in recovery, things are going badly as well. And on the acute care floors, we're having conversations with Manglement that defy belief:


MANGLER: You need to get six patients out, double up four, and send three to rehab. Who've you got that can move?


NURSE IN NOMINAL CHARGE: Uh...well, these two spines could go to rehab, and we could double up the cranis, but we have eight patients in isolation and another five that are total-care. Six is the most I can give you right now.


MANGLER: What about that one? (Stabs finger at bed-board) That one looks pretty good. Why can't you send *him* home?


NINC: Uh...'cause he had a kidney removed about two hours ago?


MANGLER: Tell him to MAN UP!!


So. It's been a fun month.

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Further incidents, happy accidents, and etc to be had via head-nurse.blogspot.com

famous last words

Come on, Tikki. You'll probably never see these people again.

One of Dee's Pies in the Skies

Spotted on google images, turns out this artist is also on etsy.com under "pencilshavings." Thought her work (i.e. woodpeckers) looked familiar.

Wasn't Half Bad (If I Do Say So Myself)

Me and the gf have a running joke about who's tanner/darker (whiter) since I can always count on her dreaming up another backyard project during her days off. Sadly, Yours Truly's Monday thru Friday routine consists of strolling a few blocks to the office and back. Any day now, we'll take that backpacking trip across...the Americas? Let's presume we have a few kinks to work out before hatching Ultimate Breakaway. In the meantime, I've offered to assist "with navigation and lifting of heavy camera equipment as long as we can bypass any packs of hungry coyotes.'

I finally conceded that 'I could be a wee bit lighter' while the two of us stood in the shower line at Kitsap park. What can I say, I'd just been promised Sunday brunch at the lunch counter. They forgot both eggs in Dee's breakfast burrito but I got a whole breakfast sweet to myself when the diner owner realized that we were out-of-towners. (GF said she was "fine" after I waved a half a scone at her on the ride home.)