it's been a long time.
as usual, the need to release emotions draws me to this site
my original agenda was halted when i read my own words
written months ago
i like my writings....
as a matter of fact, i think "tortured soul" is a really good piece
i'm entering my red hat era
i like my era
as a matter of fact, i think "red had" is a really good era
(not sure of the exact definition of "era" but it's more than a decade so i guess i'm being a positive thinker)
speaking of eras
the reason i reentered this old, familiar spot....
has to do with my work
31 years of being a nurse
has it changed!
i find myself telling stories to all the youngsters (anyone who has less than a decade of experience)
i always start with......"i know i'm getting old and you guys don't want to hear this, but......"
and so the story begins. or stories. and more stories.
tonight i realized that one of my favorite tales concerns my training
those were modern times
women wore spandex (so did men) and flash danced under disco balls
but in my world, the world of nursing,
we wore white hats---starched white hats----stiffly starched white hats
SAS shoes----white SAS shoes-----freshly polished, white SAS shoes
no hair on the collar
patrolled by "old women"---some with facial hair
white uniforms. dresses mostly. except for the occasional slacks that had to be worn with a tunic. it had to touch your knees. the tunic that is.
each time the hirsutistic proctor walked our way our bodies shrunk just a bit.
i told those tales as. a time of hardship. this is what it was like when i was young. i may not have walked 10 miles to school. but i didn't think of reporting to school/work without polishing my shoes. or ironing my uniform the night before.
never.....at least.....if the thought crossed my mind......it was a rebellious transient kind of thought. more like a wish or a dream.
tonight it dawned on me (dawn as the sun coming up. after a very long night. dawn. as the birds begin to sing....you know. the first bird you hear. when you've been up all night. you just want to sleep at least one hour before beginning again. then the bird sings.) i could never resent a morning birdsong
dawned on me that i now tell those stories with pride.
if only the freakish bearded woman would show up and
take all the cell phones away
make rounds on the patients
and scathe any nurse who was in a position other than walking motion. whose patient needed to be cleaned. needed to be turned----WHAT---a bedsore. no. not even a bedsore---a reddened area that could lead to a bedsore.
patients were bathed (by nurses), sheets were changed (by nurses), trash was removed (by nurses)--no leftover trays of food, no patient waiting to be fed, no pitcher without ICE and fresh agua (unfiltered) but very fresh
my first position
i was an operating room nurse. a lpn. a scrub. her name was ALICE WILLIAMS. she had the reputation of being the biggest bitch in the hospital (all OR supervisors were that way. job requirements) and they had to be because being supervisor of an OR meant. your reputation as a person was gauged by the weights and meters of "sterile environment".
im sure newbies think i am embellishing my story. when i say. she would randomly culture areas of the operating rooms. she sent them to the lab. to see if an ORGANISM grew.
if the big O was found. everyone stayed late. everything was scrubbed. everything.
i hated her then.
i pray for her resurrection now.
if only our profession.
if only it was rare
for me to start a shift
with a patient who was. who felt that.
they had. a good nurse.
i could end a shift
with a patient who
felt that. he. she. they. had. a. good. no. great. nurse.
if only. that wasn't.
i long for