Since we're leaving today for a week at the lake I have doing a whole bunch of nothing on my mind. Of course I need to do nothing and keep three kids amused at the same time, which presents problems. I'm sure this shows my age, but the first thing I think of is board games. On a real board and everything. No computer needed. So the topic today is...
My Three Favorite Board Games
#1. Backgammon. I've been playing since I was a little kid and I still haven't improved much. I love it in spite of myself. Logic and strategy games really appeal to me, even though I can be spotty on both. This was my dad's favorite game and he taught me to play pretty early. He had been playing since he was a kid and was an excellent player. He died suddenly a few years ago after a lifetime of us struggling to connect and the sight of a backgammon board always makes me think of him in a very nice way. This besides the fact that in my entire life I never beat him. Not once.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
And from Akelamalu at Everything And Nothing comes this gender modified Award. Can you just see me air guitaring right now? Seriously, how cool is this anyway?
The fact that these two gals who constantly keep me entertained would think to give me anything makes me smile. A big fat thank you, ladies. Mwah!
I will be handing out my awards when I get back from my trip next week. We're heading to my folk's lake house for a few days andI don't know where the time has gone this week. I've been running for daylight, and as all you other awardees know there's a lot of cut and paste involved in this!
Come back next Wednesday for the festivities. Please?
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
The cheating dog saga continues at Chez Rotten Correspondent. Oh, he looks a little remorseful during the daylight hours but come bedtime he's nowhere to be found. Nowhere in my bed that is. If I didn't know better, I'd say my mother is enjoying this just a little bit. There is, however, a small silver lining. (For me. Not for her). Remember how I've mentioned that this dog's only bad quality is that he's intestinally challenged? Well, my mom staggered out of bed this morning with an oxygen deprived look on her face that clearly told me the honeymoon was over. Yep, he's gotten comfortable with her all right. Very very comfortable. Now she gets to see the real animal underneath all that sweet talking charm. And that boy can stink to high heaven when he lets loose. Oh well, he's her problem now. At least until she goes home. Then he can sweet talk me into taking him back. Hmmph.
This is going to be short today, as we're running around getting ready to head to the lake for a week. Check back in tomorrow for lovely awards that lovely people have passed my way. I love awards!
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Thrown over, cast aside, dumped. Pick any one you'd like.
And, above, you can look into the eyes of the cruel male who did it to me. I don't see any remorse there, do you? Nope. I'm just a short pit stop on his way to break another heart.
The Most Perfect Dog In The World always sleeps with me. Always. In the same spot to the right of my feet, every single night of my life. I kind of curl my feet around him and he spoons his body around me and it's about as comfortable as one human and one dog can legally get. This dog's other nickname is Mama's Boy, because he really does follow me around like a little kid. Right now, in a calculated effort to kiss butt, he's lying on the loveseat right next to me while I write. Hmpph. He knows what he did.
He slept with my mother. All night long. I knew when I went to sleep that he was not where he should be, but completely expected him to slink in after I'd fallen asleep so I couldn't tell him what I thought. But no. I had chilly feet all night and woke up in a cold bed. My mom, seeing my pathetically wobbly lip this morning, immediately went on the defense and claimed he had only been with her for part of the night. Right. Like I'm going to fall for that. Or that it really makes a difference. Hmph.
They can both deny it all they want, but we know the truth. He just looked up at me and grinned. Rotten dog. Oh, he's giving me that look now and making his ears go all floppy just because he knows I think it makes him look adorable. Now there's a slight hopeful wag of the tail and he's rolled over on his back so I can scratch his cheating little belly.
Right. Like I'm going to fall for that.
Monday, July 23, 2007
My fifteen year old, Sasquatch, has been known to drive me crazy. Partly it's his age, but not completely. He's always been a challenging kid. I have been pushed to my limits by him, more times than once. Some of the worst moments of my life have occurred during these times. It has not been all beer and skittles. I guess if you're truthful, parenting is a series of battles - some important, some ridiculous, some funny...and some heartbreaking. Some won...some lost.
Things have been awfully good around here for quite a while. The honeymoon really does continue. He's changing. He's getting more mature, more capable of controlling himself. We're changing. We're realizing that sometimes we have to back off and let him figure it out on his own. It's a work in progress, but aren't all relationships constantly evolving? The ones that endure anyway. And at the end of the day, I look at the kid and see this incredible human being. Yes, he's difficult at times. Yes, he does have a crappy combo of some of our less desirable qualities. Yes, he can make a cement wall look flexible. But he's mine. And even in his worst moments I wouldn't trade him for anything. Even in his worst moments the pros far outweigh the cons.
I had a kid come in by ambulance last week at work. He was in severe abdominal pain. In tears. When I checked his ID bracelet his birthday was almost exactly the same as my fifteen year old's. I had to move his handcuff to check his ID. He was in a juvenile detention facility and came in strapped to the cart by a leather belt and cuffed at the wrists and ankles. Fifteen years old, anger management issues, psych issues. Obviously legal issues. Two guards at his bedside at all times. I don't know what he did or why he was in this facility. I'm not completely sure I want to know, to tell the truth. We got some phone calls from his family while he was there, wanting to know what was going on. It was a local number, yet no one came in to see him. He was really polite to me and very grateful for the treatment he received. We got him fixed up and sent him back to where he came from. Cuffs and straps in place. Guards at his side.
Perspective is an incredible thing.
So is gratitude.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Disclaimer: No Harry Potter fans will be "Spoiled" in the reading of this blog.
Okay, so I read it in one fell swoop yesterday. Half of my ass still has no blood flow, but I'm done. So is Sasquatch. It's a funny thing. You think you are losing your connections with your teenager, but all day long we were within pages of each other. He reads like me. (I like that). The two younger ones ate noodles in a cup and entertained themselves and all was well. They read the books later for some reason and have never gotten into the whole marathon read thing. Oh well, only two copies I have to buy.
Discussion will have to wait, however, because I know that not everyone is a freak like me. So, in comments indicate when you have finished and when we have a group that is done - LET'S GO!! I am so ready!
This is going to be a quick one today anyway. My mom gets here from LA this afternoon. I have to work and my husband is in the final throes of film pre-production chaos. It's a little hectic around here.
But I finished the book... (uh, mom? Could you try to overlook the state of my house? Please?)
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Friday, July 20, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Posted by the rotten correspondent at 4:45 AM
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Lord have mercy. I go to work for the 172 hour shift from hell, and I come back to so many awards being handed out that I actually had to make myself a flow-sheet. And at the top of that sheet was written "Yahoo! Someone actually thinks what I'm doing is worth reading. And I have friends!!" (I don't look a thing like Sally Field, by the way).
Okay, I'm done now.
So off we go. My buddies Jo and Mya both picked me for this Thoughtful Bloggers Award, which raises questions about their taste levels that I think we should leave alone. However, Mya is on vacation and Jo is about to go, so maybe they're a little pre-occupied. No matter. I'll take it. Gratefully.
Now I get to pick five people to pass on to. The idea behind this award is that different people do different things, and they should be recognized for that. In keeping with that we can pick the award tag we want for them. In our opinion. So here are the five people I'm giving an award to.
And for this I pick...
relevance and revolution - because she's my bud and I love her. And man, can she schmooze.
wife in the north - because I want to schmooze with her. Can I? Please? We're all fans.
award. Given by the aforementioned Not Wrong, just different. I think the Kansas girls are sticking together. Now she did mention that she thought I fibbed a little and that no one could do as much as I say I do? Have I mentioned all the hours I sit on my ass eating popcorn and reading mystery novels? Drinking wine? On the internet? (uh oh). Pleading with the Health Department not to condemn my house? Now there's a full time job. Believe me, present schedule definitely excluded, I have the best part-time job ever. Lots of free time.
Whew. Gotta go take off that gown. I can't breathe.
Monday, July 16, 2007
I woke up in the middle of the night last night when one of my dogs brushed up against my arm, which was hanging off the side of my bed. This isn't completely unusual, although with my three dogs it's odd that they're off the bed instead of on it. A California King doesn't go far with two adults, three big labs and any combination of night wandering children. Sometimes I think it would be more comfortable sleeping in the front seat of my car. It would certainly be less hairy.
What got my attention last night was that the arm brushing episode threw me back to my pretty young childhood and made me think of ghost stories. Specifically this one. Some blind person has to spend the night in a haunted house for some reason. Do not ask why. This was always the weak point in all the ghost story plot lines. Seriously. It's always a person at some physical disadvantage and they always have to stay in a haunted (possessed, Bermuda Triangle-ish, etc.) house for the sheer hell of it. As an adult I want to know why this fool felt the need to do it. As a kid I was enthralled. Anyway, this blind person had a dog and when they got scared in the haunted house they would reach out for the dog, who would reassuringly lick their hand. Well, of course this poor schmuck was never heard from again until the next thrill seeker went into the house, where they found the blind person's dead body and a note that said...
Humans can lick hands, too.
Ewwww. Can I tell you that this story scared the bejeezus out of me until I was about thirty? Part of it was that I loved ghost stories as a kid, even though I was a wimp. Part of it was that any story with a dog was okay with me, even if the dog turned out to have two legs. But most of it was the way I heard the story in the first place. At the Gun Club...
My grandparents belonged to a Rod and Gun Club when I was little and I spent a lot of time there with them. There were a lot of social events, mostly involving food, beer and cards. Surely I'm wrong, but I don't remember much in the way of rods or guns. But I guess if you called it the Beer and Poker Club you'd get a whole different clientele. While the adults did their adult things, the kids would go into this big club type room with a fireplace and tell ghost stories. We would all sit around in a circle and see who could scare the others into a quivering pile of kid flesh. It was an ongoing competition to see who could, week after week, dominate the floor with their scary stories. Being one of the youngest ones there, I was almost always the scare-ee instead of the scare- er, but it didn't matter. I loved all the stories, but the blind fool and the dog tale was the one that made the biggest impression on me. It still kind of gives me the heebees.
And I have absolutely no idea what made this whole subject pop into my head.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Note that it stops at 10.
If you tell us your pain is higher than 10, we automatically think that you're...
FOS - full of shit. This could be literal (you don't want to know) or figurative. You could, for example, be trying to con the nice nurse out of narcotics by exaggerating your pain. Do not think for a second that your nurse does not have direct input into the type and amount of painkiller you get. Critical Care nurses have enough of the doc's respect that they ask what we think. Do not think for a second that we don't tell them. Your med will reflect this. Every. Single. Time. So don't try and convince me you're not a drug seeker when I have a computer screen right in front of me that tells me you are. Tylenol for you, buddy. And yeah, I'd be happy to take this outside. I've been here for eleven long hours and would love to blow a little steam off somehow. Another possiblilty is that you could be suffering from...
Status Dramaticus - especially prevalent when hovering family members are present. Known by many names, the majority unprintable on this family friendly blog. This is the patient who screams and wails when we are in the room and then sends a relative out for fast food as soon as we leave. Rule #1. If you are well enough to eat you need to get out of that bed. I need it for someone sick. Rule #2. If you rate your pain at a 10 I'd better see a butcher knife sticking out of your head. On both sides. Or you might need to be in...
The Scrotum - these are our two attached mental health rooms. So called because the nurse is at the desk in between two nuts. I don't make these things up, folks, I just report them. I'll take a nut job any day of the week over a hungry drama queen with a backache. I have a huge amount of empathy for the nut jobs and none at all for the drama queens. You could also check out...
Can you tell I've been working too much lately??
Friday, July 13, 2007
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Today's list is...
Three things I am really embarrassed to admit that I really like.
and when I say really...I mean really. Really.
The Bay City Rollers. Might as well start off with a bang. But wait, it gets worse. It was bad enough that I was a tartan wearing teeny-bopper, but as an adult I still listen to them when no one else is around. Maybe it's the fact that it makes me feel twelve again, maybe it's that it was a simpler time. Maybe it's just that I have no taste. I don't wear tartan anymore, if that's any consolation.
As stupid as it sounds The Bay City Rollers were my teenage rebellion. My step-father when I was growing up in LA was a studio and touring musician and he worked with a lot of world class acts. If I'd adored the Rolling Stones or the Pretenders (which as a matter of fact I secretly did) it would have been a given that I at least had some musical taste. But the BCR drove him nuts. He would say, through gritted teeth, "Can they at least hit one of the notes they're trying to hit?" Teenage mission accomplished. I can't quite explain why I still (very occasionally) listen to them and sing along - off key of course.
Salt on fruit. You can blame my Alabama grandmother for this, but I love salt on fruit. Apples, melon, oranges and grapefruit, but especially watermelon. Oh my god, do I love salt on watermelon. I try to not do it, because I know all that salt isn't good for you. I just eat it plain like a good girl. Most of the time.
But when no one is looking...watch out.
Reality Television. Not all of it - I do have some taste. (After reading this far you may doubt that, but I do. Really). I don't like the super cheesy shows like The Bachelor and the ones like Please Marry My Dad, but I do have a few favorites. I like Survivor and American Idol and most of the Bravo shows, but especially Project Runway. I watch some of these shows with my kids and it's a lot of fun to argue and debate about them. Top Chef is the show of the moment. My kids are really big on any show they can keep on for background noise and then as soon as it's over turn to me and ask me what happened. Sometimes I tell them the truth and sometimes I scramble it all up in the hope that eventually they'll watch it themselves. Right. Like that's going to happen.
Well, there you go. Thanks to those who gave me ideas for the list. In the end I decided not to do any of them because we all do similar lists and I started to feel really bad about taking all those good ideas for myself. And besides, I want to read what other people come up with.
Okay people, fess up. What are your guilty pleasures?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
I have a lot of odds and ends today, so let's call today a meatloaf day. A little bit of this, a little bit of that. I'm having a bit of a mental health day today, since tomorrow is the start of a long work run for me - three twelve hour shifts in four days. I'm already, at ten in the morning, in emotional prep mode. So don't expect anything fabulous today, okay? 'Kay. As long as we're on the same page.
10 days. And the countdown to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows hits fever pitch. All the PR machines are clearly working over-time since you can't go anywhere without Harry in your face. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm just not sure it's even needed. This thing has a life all its own. I'm 400+ pages into Half Blood Prince, so I'm right on target. I've been having Hogwarts dreams for a week. Bingo.
We have advance tickets for Order of the Phoenix today. Our local theater is only having four showings on one screen, so I'm sure my mom stock will go up when we get there, tickets in hand, and sail through the ticketless masses. The Gooey Butter Cake didn't hurt my stock either, come to think of it. It's nice to be on a winnning run for a change. Won't last long...must enjoy now.
I'm kicking around ideas for the Thursday Three tomorrow and am taking suggestions. Anyone have any thoughts? Slide 'em this way. The more off kilter the better. *smirk*
We're still waiting for definitive news on our friend Maggie. It was definitely cancer, in both ovaries. The lymph node pathology is due today. Please think good thoughts. We hear she's being feisty and giving the hospital staff what for, so that's encouraging. This may surprise you, but in certain patients them giving me hell makes me very happy. It indicates a certain level of energy that can be a real relief. It's usually the limp ones that worry me the most. The nasty ones don't worry me. They just tick me off.
Go forth and enjoy your Wednesday!
Posted by the rotten correspondent at 9:06 AM
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I've never posted a recipe before, but I've seriously considered it. It would be completely in character for me, since I love to cook and god knows I can eat twice my own weight a day. The recipes I've thought about posting reflect my personal approach to cooking. Spicy, multi-cultural dishes that are, nevertheless, comfort foods. Meals that are healthy, down to earth and fabulous at the same time. This is the way we eat most of the time, and these are the recipes I gravitate toward.
Monday, July 9, 2007
We got back yesterday from a great girl's weekend in St. Louis. I love a road trip more than almost anything, and this was a (mostly) very nice one. Hit the highway with a bag full of snacks, ate our way through a welcoming barbeque (with lots of desserts), a bagel brunch (with huge dessert table), a party spread with a World' s Fair theme (with huge dessert table) and a hospitality bag full of, you guessed it, a bunch of desserts. There was something in the bag called a St. Louis Gooey Butter Cake, which we'd never heard of before and is one of the best things I've ever eaten. I'm pretty sure at this point I have pure corn syrup running through my veins instead of blood, but it's okay. How often do these things happen? I can always abstain another day. (Right. Like that's going to happen).
The Bat Mitzvah service was incredibly moving, and I was in awe at my friend Leiba for organizing it. A hundred people from around the country, a weekend full of activities, some people (like myself) who knew almost no one and a large group of people who seemed to know everyone. Coming from a relatively small family it was a kick to see a huge, raucus Jewish family swing into party mode. This bunch knew how to cut loose. They do it with dessert, not alcohol.
There were some moments of levity along the way. My road trip bud Stacey and I had heard the stories of Leiba'a mother-in -law for years, but never seen the gal in action. Every time she visited when the family lived here we were discouraged from meeting her, due to her snappish nature. We saw this weekend that these stories weren't exaggerated, unfortunately. From refusing to leave the airport terminal because her darling son wasn't picking her up personally to physically jumping out of a moving car when she did actually see him, she lived up to the hype and then some. You could spot her easily at any point. She was the one who looked like she was smelling month old smoked salmon all the time.
And then there were the M&M's. Like I said, this event has been years in the planning, and a lot of personalized gifts were given out during the welcoming BBQ. Cup holders with the Bat Mitzvah girl's name - Becca - on them. Rubber bracelets imprinted with her name and the date. And so on. Well, one of Leiba's (I think) cousins wasn't able to help as much as she wanted, so she said she wanted to order some personalized M&M's for the weekend. I hadn't known until a couple of years ago that you can special order M&M's to say anything you want in any color you want. The trick, of course, is that M&M's are small, and it's hard to fit a lot on them. So instead of saying "Becca's Bat Mitzvah" they read "Becca's BM". We discovered this with a mouth full of candy and it was quite the effort not to spray everyone around us with chewed up chocolate. When we asked Leiba (very carefully, mind you) if she knew about this, she rolled her eyes and said her cousin thought it would be cute. Cute. We asked what Becca thought about it. Cute wasn't a word that came up. It was a constant chuckle throughout the weekend as people started reading the M&M's and choking as it hit them. Sadly (or luckily), I don't think her MIL ate any. I'm sure the whole room would have heard about it. Very loudly. Oy vey, no one knows what she puts up with with that daughter-in-law of hers. Could she tell us some stories.
The weekend would have been a home run except for one thing. As soon as she picked me up Stacey warned me that she had really really bad news, and she didn't exaggerate. One of our friends, who was vacationing in upstate New York, had developed terribly severe abdominal cramps, bad enough that her husband took her into the ER. Next thing they knew she was in surgery,where the docs removed a "huge" tumor, along with the ovary it was on. With no pathology in hand they actually used the "malignant" word. It was bad enough that she has a colostomy, and while waiting for final pathology results the team there is already talking to her about major cancer centers and possible treatment options. No symptoms. No signs. Oh yeah, she had been complaing about feeling a little tired lately. Anyone reading this not feeling a little tired?
So between the update phone calls and the fact that everything we did reminded us of our friend Maggie in some way, it was hard. We would be laughing one minute and on the verge of tears the next. She has kids the same ages as ours. She was one of the very first people who drew me into the group when we moved here. And all we can do at this point is wait.
I love road trips. But I really hate waiting.
P.S. Happy Belated Birthday to my own Mother-In-Law, who I love dearly, even though she doesn't provide me with any comic material. Couldn't you be a biatch just once, so I could write about it??
Friday, July 6, 2007
Well, there was quite a party at Jen's place yesterday. I learned a valuable lesson. You can't post a bunch of beefcake shots and not expect the gals to get all het up. Clearly the estrogen was flying, because by the time I got home from work late last night, my name had acquired blog-in-cheek royal overtones. And you know me...I'll take it. As long as it involves double birthday presents (and cake too?, she asked hopefully) I'm there. But the Queen above is much more my style. I don't look quite well in hats. No one need salute or sing when I comment. Just try not to laugh at my mis-spellings.
Seriously, you all had me laughing so hard last night. (And I needed it. I'm still worried about where Jo will finally find that elusive poo. Just when I stopped fretting about Mya's MIL from Hell. It's always something). Think of me in blog purgatory this weekend, as I'm going out of town later today until Sunday. A dear friend in St. Louis is having her daughter's Bat Mitzvah and a couple of us are making a girl's weekend of it. I've never been to a Bat Mitzvah and am really looking forward to it. My friend has been planning this for years it seems, so it should be a blow-out. I'm sure the old blog twitch will start about five minutes away from my computer. Strength! I'll be back posting Monday.
Now play nice ladies. Don't nominate me to be the next Mrs. Tom Cruise or anything while I'm not around to defend myself.
Here's the deal. Go to Wikipedia and type in your birthday month and day. Then post three events, two births and one holiday that occurred on that day. When you're done tag five more people to do it too. This was fun!
My birthday is June 16th.
three events -
1903 - Ford Motor Company incorporates
1858 - Abraham Lincoln's House Divided speech in Springfield, Illinois.
1967 - Monterey Pop Festival begins; Monterey, California.
two birthdays -
1938 - Joyce Carol Oates, American novelist
1955 - Laurie Metcalf, American actress
and one holiday -
Thursday, July 5, 2007
#3. Brad Pitt. Oh Jesus save me, for I have sinned. I do not find Brad Pitt sexy in the least. I think he's cute enough, I mean he doesn't gross me out or anything. I just don't have that weak-kneed thing going. This little glitch makes me feel seriously out of step with the rest of human kind.
I think part of my problem with Brad Pitt is that the "pretty boy" isn't a type I normally gravitate toward. And also that virtually any film he's in has at least one person who out-sexies him in my book. George Clooney. Vince Vaughn. Angelina Jolie.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
I like fireworks well enough.
But with spoiled canines freaking out and cowering at the noise, we tend to stay home when fireworks are going off. I have my own personal fireworks when three big furry babies all try to climb in my lap at once. The Rulers of our Household do not care for this particular holiday.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
When I walk into a patient's room to take a medical history I consider myself fairly bullet-proof. Really. There's virtually nothing they can tell me that will shock me. IV drug use? Check. Domestic violence? Right. Transexual? No problem. This whole information gathering routine is just part of the job, and I would never in a million years hold someone's medical or psych status against them...in any way.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Whether I like it or not math is an integral part of nursing. I have a love/hate relationship with math - I hate it and love the fact that I've survived math classes in spite of myself. It was bad enough in High School, when my Algebra teacher only passed me after I promised I'd never take another math class in my life. Then in college (the first time around) I had the brilliant idea to take Logic as my math requirement instead of the dreaded Algebra. I spent the entire semester learning that, if your facts are lined up properly, I could be proven to be a male Australian goat herder with a speech impediment. It had almost as much relevance to my life as Algebra, but was twice as infuriating.
Then, a few short years back, came Nursing School. In our Orientation meeting one of the first things we were warned about was the Math Tests. There would be one in the first year and one in the second. Passing grade was 95%. Anything less was a fail. We would have three attempts to pass each test and if we didn't we were out of the program. Not the class - the program. They were nursing math questions, like this:
You have an order to give 5 mcg per kg of a med to a pt who weighs 184 lbs. Your med is one gram that is to be reconstituted with 10 mls of sterile saline. How many mls of the med would you give?
Do you have any idea how many hours of sleep I lost over these tests? And somehow (this is another post for another time) I passed them. I passed the first one on the first try and the second one on the second try. Good thing there wasn't a third or I'd have stroked out on the spot.
But like Algebra, this type of math is self-limiting. To start with most meds are pretty straight forward. So is the whole kg/lb conversion. Most of the meds we use in codes have very clear cut dosages that don't change. And as the final safety net all of us have someone else recheck anything that makes us nervous. So even though I dreaded the math it hasn't been all that bad. It just hasn't been that relevant.
There's a new Nursing Math that is a lot more applicable these days. It worries me, because if I were ever tested on this I'm not sure how I'd do. Here's an example:
1. You are assisting a primary nurse with charcoal administration down an orogastric tube. You are wearing a brand new pair of scrubs in a really cool color. The room measures ten feet by twelve feet. The patient starts to gag before the tube is pulled. Knowing that charcoal can spew out of a tube in a six foot radius (even with a thumb over the opening) and the stretcher is two feet wide, how many feet per second do you have to back up to get less charcoal on you than the primary nurse?
2. You are the primary nurse taking care of a very shy female teenager in the gynecology room. Her private physician arrives to see her, but you can see that he is in a really crappy mood. After much coaxing, the patient finally agrees to a pelvic exam. How many people will open the door during the exam?
3. One of your patients is an elderly, confused male with an enlarged prostate. He has a catheter and will be admitted to the floor as soon as his labs come back. Somehow he manages to get off the stretcher. The drainage bag is firmly hooked to the side rail. Knowing that the catheter is 12 inches long and the drainage tubing is three feet long, will he be able to reach the door before pulling out the catheter?
Now that's the kind of math I could use.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
I got (gently) accused yesterday of being OCD in my re-reading of the Harry Potter books pre Deathly Hallows. Now I am the first to admit that I can put the A in anal, but I didn't think this particular accusation was quite fair. It came from my friend Stacey, in her melodic Baltimore brogue, as she said that she herself was re-reading the last two only in DH prep. (On a completely unrelated note, why is it that so many of my dearest friends are East Coast types? Must investigate further. Stay tuned for upcoming blog analysis).