We are in the middle of our Missions Conference. Tonight was our International Banquet, and tomorrow is the last day the missionaries preaching and stuff. Anyways, I was feeding Brendon his food, and I put some potatoes on his high chair tray. He did not like them. He spit them out almost instantly. It was funny to watch. I left them there, because I didn't want his slobbery potatoes on my plate. Every once in a while he'd try them again. and would get the same surprised look on his face each time. It was pretty funny. Once, he did that with some whipped cream, and tried to spit it out. Yeah, not so much.
At work this past week. I worked two days in a row. The first day, I had three patients. One had a private sitter that I pretty much forced to help with her "sittee's" care. Another one would not shut-up or stay in bed or answer questions. Third, was pretty good, but was sitting in this sand trap of a bed and needed to be pulled up every 15 minutes. My patients were OK, it was TallSkinnyChick's patients who gave trouble. One was Houdini and pulled a sutured central venous line out (the sutures stayed in his skin, still attached, but the line was GONE!). Her other patient decided to stop breathing and needed emergent-elective intubation. AT THE SAME TIME THE OTHER GUY DID HIS MAGIC TRICK! That totally topped anything else that happened that day.
Then, I came back for round too. I figured since all the excited happened on Thursday, Friday would be safe, right? WRONG! Oh, Friday started out all innocent, one empty bed, one nursing student. Miss SandTrap even had transfer orders. So I would only be left with Sir TalksALot. Except, he wasn't talking. Maybe he was only tired?! Oh, he wasn't breathing (effectively) either!? Crap! So, we more-emergent-than-electively intubated him. Everyone's like, "but you didn't call for the code team!" and "you didn't code him!" No, duh! He never coded. He still "breathed" minimally, but it was only a matter of time. So we caught it soon enough. He left to go to ICU, and Ms SandTrap left. I had zero patients.
I searched for jobs to do. I restocked rooms, I made lots of bathroom trips, I filled water pitchers, I helped clean poo and give meds. I wished I could leave. There ended up being only 4 patients on the floor for 3 nurses. Any other team leader would have sent a nurse home, but the one we had doesn't manage very well. About 4pm, I got word I was getting a patient. FINALLY! But I didn't get report until 615, and the patient didn't come until 640. I did all my good nursing stuff and tucked her in to her room, did all the right things, and still left on time. Guess how many nurses came in for night shift? Oh, two. Why? Because there were only 6 patients. Oh yeah, my patient arrived right on the heels of another one.
And that is why I don't like to work two days in a row.