I have no excuses for why I haven't blogged in while, except I'm fickle and change my mind a lot. I didn't feel like blogging. But just in case I've got pictures. Facebook is so much more agreeable at uploading pictures. Anyways. It was Mark's birthday Tuesday. I made him a cake, chocolate, with chocolate icing. It's totally gone. It was gone yesterday. We did take to a little get-together Tuesday night with the Mallorys, they ate most of it! One of his birthday presents was a cordless drill, a DeWitt, 14.4 volts. He is so excited about it. His parents sent him a Sears gift card. My parents are just a little late.
We went to Sears last night. He was in heaven; I was in Lala Land. As I was coming home from work, he called me and was like, lets go to Sears tonight, right as soon as you get home. So we did. He got a ton of his kind of toys. He got a cotter key remover (have no clue what it was), a drill bit set, a screw driver set...and something else. He wanted this remote control car we saw, but it didn't come with the battery thing (supposedly the same one that powers Craftsman tools) and the battery alone was like 70 bucks!! That was more than that car!! So, no, we didn't get the car.
I've been working extra at work. Bring on the overtime, baby! Also, there's something called "add a shift." Basically, it's a cry for help. "We're so short on staff, we'll pay you extra to work over time." I succumbed. Bad things always happen on the days you volunteer. Always, always, always. I just realized that today. Right after shift change and report, it happened. Bad things happened. I shipped the one it happened to off to the ICU. Only uphill from there, right? Right. But all that didn't get straightened out until about...9am. So from 730 til 9, I was regretting my volunteering. But it got better, much better. I sent one of my other patient's home.
Funny story here, but first, a little background info. We have this little team in place in the hospital called Medical Response Team, or MRT. It can be used as a noun (Call an MRT), or a verb (Lets MRT her). Usually when it's a verb, it's "mert" instead of noun M-R-T. Got it? So I got this phone call from the IV therapy nurse, "What was the name of the patient that was MRT-ed, this morning, in 345?" I was only half paying attention and I heard "What was the name of that patient that was murdered, this morning, in 345?" I tell you what, my heart stopped and I thought I would never breathe again. I had to replay it in my mind and for a few seconds, all I could say was, "uuuuhhhh."
Then, a little bit later, we found out that on the other end of the tower, there was a situation needing a Code Silver, a potentially dangerous situation. I tell you what, these family members think it's fun to bring their problems to the hospital bed of their sick people. They were even going to be calling the police to come here. The staff that was down there...picture this, 4'10" Manager, Pregnant Nurse (about my size, but with a baby belly), Teeny-tiny Nurse (like a bean pole, half my size). Those three were the front guard for this family feud.
We're going out for some bonding time with Indiana Jones.