AM aide is MIA?

Ok, so you decided to skip all care besides changing the patients clothes for two weeks why? Oh, you didn't have enough time, I see. No, no, you're absolutely right, only an hour to get one person showered and dressed is not enough time at all. Oh, and you haven't been applying the barrier cream at all because you didn't want them to feel embarrassed about having cream put on their backside. I'm sure they appreciated that, despite having skin like tissue paper and sitting in a wheelchair wearing a brief that you never change all day long. Ooooh and you left a present for me in the commode! Thank you so much for that, how did you know that I love cleaning up feces and urine that have been stewing in there all day? Thank you for that, it really makes the entire home smell absolutely lovely, a great way to help preserve their dignity.
And what's this? A phone call from the supervisor ripping me a new one after my first night back at work because you reported that I hadn't been applying barrier cream, leading to a bedsore? This just makes my day, thank you for letting me take your blame. You're absolutely right, it is completely my fault that you neglected a sweet, loving, person while I was away for two weeks. Don't worry, I made sure to explain that very clearly to the RN. Oh and by the way, just a little tip: before you report a mental status change to the nurse because the patient is giving you inappropriate responses (when they respond at all) and suddenly seems confused all the time, CHECK THE BATTERY IN THE HEARING AIDS FIRST. Ya, I noticed you didn't do that either. No worries though, I took care of it.
And one last thing: thanks for telling me that you busted the shower head and it now sprays all over the room thanks to your handy work. That unexpected blast of water was really refreshing.

On psych wards, the really crazy ones wear scrubs

Back when I was in high school, I had the opportunity to do a co-op placement at one of the local hospitals. Essentially, the hospital got a grunt for free and I got a credit towards my diploma. For the most part it was fairly uneventful. I mainly stayed in the library digging through various medical journals looking for obscure articles for the doctors and delivering mail. I got sent up to day surgery a few times where I got to do a lot of the running around for the nurses and the things they just didn't have time to do (bringing patients juice, popping in to see if they needed anything, keeping a chemo patient company during treatment, etc). The nurses were very welcoming despite me being a useless little teen and even took the time to explain their check-in procedures and such. It was a positive experience but very quiet, so I got really excited when the powers that be decided to send me up to the psych ward to help for a the day.

I had no idea what to expect going in there, but I was just happy to not be delivering mail. I had never even been to that floor of the hospital before, but I got a bit of a lump in my throat when I got to the doors of the psych ward and fumbled for my key card. The charge nurse immediately swept me into the nursing station and set me to work with getting some of their paperwork organized. It was pretty unsettling to say the least. There was an emaciated woman curled up in a doorway sobbing as a nurse tried to coax her into eating. One of the patients started wandering in and out of the nursing station to inform me of a childhood of severe sexual abuse. He became very agitated very quickly, but thankfully there was a very large nurse that was keeping an eye on me and put himself between the patient and I. After gently guiding this gentleman away from the nursing station and calming the patient, he had a word with the charge nurse and I was scooted off into a little office to continue my tedious work.

I spent the majority of the shift in the office and it was surprisingly quiet. Anytime I had to return to the nursing station the previously agitated patient was very pleasant. About ten minutes before the shift ended though, there was an bloodcurdling shriek and the sound of various equipment smashing against a wall. I had no idea what to do. I looked out the window of the office and saw the female patient flying like a bat out of hell into another patient's room and barricade herself in. The charge nurse threw open the door to the office, asked if I was OK, then locked me in the office. All I could do was watch the scene across the hall from me, only occasionally breaking my bug eyed stare to glance at the emergency button on the wall that I hadn't noticed before. My shift ended as maintenance arrived to help pry open the door to get to the patient.

The charge nurse walked me out. I must have been white as a ghost because she was laughing when she asked me what I thought. Just as the doors to the ward click shut behind me, there was a another panicked scream and banging on the doors. I jumped and looked back to see the male nurse pounding on the doors, screaming "OH GOD HELP ME! GET ME OUT! UNLOCK THE DOOR!"
The locked buzzed and he hobbled out of the ward, doubled over with laughter. "I love doing that", he said before skipping ahead of me towards the elevator.

Over the years, I've come to appreciate his sense of humour.

Hey baby, how you doin?

If you're thinking about becoming a PSW (or nurses' aide or whatever they are called at the moment in your area), you're going to need a good sense of humour and the ability to read people really well. More so if you plan on working in home care. Let me give you an example.

I got called in as a last minute replacement for a 5 hour evening respite shift. Sounded like a really easy assignment. Elderly male, wheelchair bound, very active wife so all the care would be done before I got there. All I had to do was keep the patient company while the wife was out and assist them with transferring to the toilet or bed if need be. No conditions affecting mental status, no history of abuse to staff. Easy peasy.

I get to the home and one of the neighbours is there to greet me. The wife left a little earlier than expected so the neighbour came over to hold down the fort until I got there. This very polite, prim and proper lady stays to chat for a bit (the patient is dozing in their chair in the living room). She explains that he normally naps for a bit in the evening and probably won't get up until I'm about to leave. She suddenly gets quite embarrassed and asks me if I've ever had male patients before. Of course I have. She explains that I may need to help him to the bathroom. Not a problem, been there, done that. A struggle with a condom catheter from my student days pops into my head and I can't help but grin. The neighbour pops off after leaving a note with her phone number (just in case I have any questions) and points out which house is hers, just in case something happens and I need help. I'm very impressed and even touched at how much they are all looking out for each other and just how welcoming they are.

The patient pops awake every now and then and I figure out very quickly what kind of person he is. Absolutely harmless, but likes to get people riled up. He tries to egg me on into conversations about religion and politics. He dozed off again and I putter around looking for something to do. The house is spotless. Not a speck of dust or dirty dish in site. Good thing I brought a book.

He wakes up a few more times, and I assist with a transfer onto the toilet and into bed. He wakes up after about an hour and would like to come back out to the living room. I'm thanking my lucky stars for this since my book is boring and while I have to carefully navigate through the conversations, he's a really interesting guy. This is when the preaching starts.

He tries to get any personal information he can out of me regarding my religion. He wants to know what type of church I go to (I don't go to any) and carries on about how wonderful Jesus is. The conversation finally hits a brick wall when he gets it through his head that he's not getting anything personal out of me.

And that's when he started hitting on me. This was the middle of a very hot summer so I was wearing capri pants. He takes notice of this suddenly and starts complimenting my legs. I get a little uncomfortable and shift in my seat. Unfortunately this raised one of my pant legs just a little. He goes all out.

"Oooooo yeah baby, show me some more like. I like legs. Those are nice legs. You know what else I like? Breasts."

"..Oh really? isn't that something"

"Yeah....hey can you show me a little more leg? Come on baby, or you could show me a little something else if you want to."

OK, this is a bit too far. I gotta say something that's gonna satisfy his sense of humour yet be firm and very clear.

"*smile* Sorry sir, that's not what I get paid for."

He grins.

"Good girl."


Sometimes they just want to see how you can handle yourself.

Someone get that nurse some tomato juice

Let me take you back to a really fun night I had while I was just starting out my second semester of the PSW program. It was the worst night I had throughout that entire course, but my interaction with one RN made it almost worth while.

At about 2130 I started having a really irritating cramp in my right side. I figured I would just get some rest and be fine in time for class in the morning. By 2200 the cramp had gotten so bad I felt like I was going to throw up, pass out, or both. Nothing was making the pain any better, it just kept getting worse. It felt like someone had shoved their fist into my side and was knotting up my insides into a tight little ball. I kept trying to ignore it, but once I had a hard time catching my breath because of the pain I decided it was time to go to the ER.

The ride to the hospital and trip through triage was a blur. I have no idea how long I sat in the waiting room and I don't remember changing into a gown. I laid on the bed in an exam room split into five exam rooms with curtains and waited for the doctor. The patient next to me had a herd of family with them that were complaining loudly about some family drama.

The RN comes in and takes a quick history. I chock out a pain scale of 12/10. She tells me I don't understand. I correct her. Yes, I do understand that a pain scale is usually 10/10 maximum. I have asked other people that exact same question more times than I can count. This is not the worst pain I have ever felt, it is beyond that. I cannot breathe because of the pain and if you don't back up you're going to get puked on. She leaves in a huff.

About 10 minutes after she leaves, I throw up in the garbage can. Fun fact: macaroni and cheese looks almost the same coming up as it does going down, but the smell is so unbelievably horrific it may require an exorcism to get rid of. Boyfriend scuttles off to the nursing station to inform the RN of this and after I throw up a few more times she shows up with a k basin (about 20 minutes later). If I hadn't been in so much pain I would have laughed at the look on her face when she peaked in the garbage can. She rushes out (I assume because of the smell, since she was starting to look a little green), then comes back about 15 minutes later. She throws open the curtains and informs me, quite loudly:
"Look, I get that you're *wiggles fingers in the air* in pain or something, but you're being too loud. You need to quiet down, you're being disruptive."

I was completely stunned. The loud, obnoxious blabbering she was hearing was the family of the patient next to me. I am an extremely quiet person (think the low-talker episode of Seinfeld). The only conversations I had during my time in the ER were brief and whispered. I would suck in a deep breath every now and then to suppress the urge to scream, and that was as loud as I got. I start trying to sputter out a response but all I come up with is "Uhhhhhh". She cuts me off by handing me a jar and saying she wants a urine sample.

In order to get to the bathroom, I have to hobble across the exam room. I can no longer stand up straight anymore. I have officially become a mutilated capital T. The boyfriend is worried that I will faint on the way to the bathroom since according to him I am now white as a ghost, so he helps me into the bathroom. He hesitates as the door.
"...I know you're not going to like this, but you're not going in alone. I don't want you passing out on the john."
He accompanies me into the bathroom and turns his back as I attempt to produce a specimen.

At this point it feels like my bladder is about to burst, but nothing is coming out. I start straining harder and HOLY MOTHER OF CRAP I'M PEEING GLASS!

I finish up and hand him the specimen to run off to the nurse. My urine sample consists almost exclusively of blood and 3 good sized stones.

After helping me back to the bed, he rushes off to the nurses station. As I'm laying there, I suddenly feel quite a deal better. The pain isn't completely gone but I can almost straighten out now and no longer have the urge to power puke all over the room.

Within moments of him handing off the specimen, nurse bitchface is back at my bedside. She waves the urine sample at me.
"What's this?!"

"Umm.....the urine sample you asked for."

She rolls her eyes.

"Oh so you're on your period then."

"No, actually, I'm not." (you sure seem like you could use some midol though).

"So....you're...not......well then you just finished it."

"No I did not."

".... ...then........you...you're about to start soon then, right?"

"Nope."

"Oh..."

"I think I saw 3 stones or something floating around in there too."

"Uh....uh huh......"



I hear her muttering something in a bit of a nervous panic to a man in the hallway. Then the tallest friggin doctor I have ever seen walks in (he really didn't need to open the curtain, he could see over it. It was a little startling). He was absolutely fantastic. Very thorough, patient, and very kind. Thanks to the panic the sample seemed to set off in the nurse, the doctor took my pain complaint very seriously and set me up with an order for an ultrasound (turns out I still had more of the little buggers floating around) and a prescription for dilaudid.

Still alive

When I started this blog I intended to update it much more frequently than this. Unfortunately my health has been fairly crappy lately so I've taken a bit of a break from a lot of things until my symptoms ease up a bit. I've started drafting up some stories though, so rest assured that soon you will be able to come here to read along as I descend into school paperwork-induced insanity. You'll also find plenty of stories about blood, screaming, projectile vomiting, enemas, and creative things to blow your nose in.

...kind of a sick little bugger, aren't you?