The Frazzled Nurse and The Chair of Death
Happy Mother's Day to all you mommas. I hope your children wore halos all day if you have little ones, or that they gave you a nice gift (or at least called) if you have big ones.
I spent another day being sick, but this time I spent it being sick in a doctor's office. It was the only clinic that was open today. They didn't open until 1:00, and when I pulled into the parking lot at 12:55 there was a line of people wrapped around the building. Fabulous. They didn't take too long getting me back there, and the doctor zipped into the room shortly after I was taken back. She spent about 11 seconds looking into my throat and listening to me breathe, then said she was going to run some tests, and she zipped right back out. Honestly, she wasn't in the room a full minute.
About fifteen minutes later a nurse came and took me to the lab, where they realized there was no room for me. A guy was already in The Chair, so they just told me to stand near the wall while they finished with him. I opted to go pee instead. When I got back, the man was commenting on how painless the needle had been. Great, I thought, at least they've got a good nurse. But I was not to be so lucky.
I finally sat in The Chair, where I sat watching the nurses scramble around and trip over each other and generally behave in a very confused manner. It only took me a minute to figure out that none of them worked there on a regular basis. They just fill in on weekends sometimes, and this was apparently the first time for both of the ones who were in the lab. They couldn't find anything, couldn't figure out how the machine worked, couldn't keep straight what tests had been ordered on what patients, they jostled charts around and dropped things and it was just a mess.
The most frazzled of them all finally approached me and started digging through drawers. She was going to do a finger prick instead of drawing blood from my arm. It took a few minutes to find the finger pricking device. Then the other nurse told her that the test that had been ordered had to be sent out, so they had to draw blood from my arm. It took a few more minutes while the device for that procedure was located. The most frazzled of them all handed me a handful of glass vials and said, "Hold this!" while she continued digging through a drawer in search of "a hub," whatever that is.
She finally got the little needle, the wipey cloth, the cotton, and everything else ready, and began poking around for a vein. She couldn't find one. I gingerly guided her toward the area where it is most often found, but there was nothing there either. She said I had "tiny, no-good, rolling veins," and finally tied the elastic strap around my right arm. She stuck me. Not too bad at first. But the blood didn't come, and she began moving the needle around inside. It stung like a mofo. Then blood squirted out-- not into the vial, but onto the floor! It was disgusting! She said, "Woops!" and started trying to reach around me to get something to catch the blood with-- a cotton ball, I guess-- but she was still holding the needle in my arm. I reached behind myself awkwardly with my left arm and grabbed a bag of cotton balls. She finally got one, covered the needle, and pulled it out of my arm. "That didn't work."
No shit, Sherlock. It did hurt like hell though.
She apologized, cleaned the blood off of me, taped a cotton ball over the still-bleeding hole, and began poking around for another place to stab me. After a few more minutes of poking, she threw her hands up and said, "I'm gonna let one of you do it!" and she disappeared around a corner.
A less frazzled nurse happened to walk in about that time, and asked what was going on. No one knew. She turned to me and asked what tests were being done on me. I repeated a medical term I had heard but didn't understand. She grabbed the finger pricking device and the other nurse said, "Doesn't that have to be drawn and sent out?" She said, "No, we do it here, so we can just prick the finger." A tiny prick later I was on my way back to Room 4. All that poking and bleeding wasn't even necessary.
I waited in my room for a few minutes, and the other nurse came in and swabbed my throat for a strep test. Then the real waiting began. The doctor finally came back in and said that I didn't have strep or walking pneumonia. She said I probably have something viral, and that she's seen a lot of it going around. She said it's going to take a week to a week and a half to clear up, and that I should stay home for a few days.
Right. The state test is this week. I can't miss work-- they'll kill me dead if I call in. Anyone can proctor a test, but the administrator has to be certified, I think. Anyway, it starts Tuesday. I might take off tomorrow, but I haven't decided yet. I feel better now than I did yesterday, or even earlier today, so it's possible that I could feel better in the morning. I've got a written excuse, so if I do have to call in I'm covered.
This sucks!
I spent another day being sick, but this time I spent it being sick in a doctor's office. It was the only clinic that was open today. They didn't open until 1:00, and when I pulled into the parking lot at 12:55 there was a line of people wrapped around the building. Fabulous. They didn't take too long getting me back there, and the doctor zipped into the room shortly after I was taken back. She spent about 11 seconds looking into my throat and listening to me breathe, then said she was going to run some tests, and she zipped right back out. Honestly, she wasn't in the room a full minute.
About fifteen minutes later a nurse came and took me to the lab, where they realized there was no room for me. A guy was already in The Chair, so they just told me to stand near the wall while they finished with him. I opted to go pee instead. When I got back, the man was commenting on how painless the needle had been. Great, I thought, at least they've got a good nurse. But I was not to be so lucky.
I finally sat in The Chair, where I sat watching the nurses scramble around and trip over each other and generally behave in a very confused manner. It only took me a minute to figure out that none of them worked there on a regular basis. They just fill in on weekends sometimes, and this was apparently the first time for both of the ones who were in the lab. They couldn't find anything, couldn't figure out how the machine worked, couldn't keep straight what tests had been ordered on what patients, they jostled charts around and dropped things and it was just a mess.
The most frazzled of them all finally approached me and started digging through drawers. She was going to do a finger prick instead of drawing blood from my arm. It took a few minutes to find the finger pricking device. Then the other nurse told her that the test that had been ordered had to be sent out, so they had to draw blood from my arm. It took a few more minutes while the device for that procedure was located. The most frazzled of them all handed me a handful of glass vials and said, "Hold this!" while she continued digging through a drawer in search of "a hub," whatever that is.
She finally got the little needle, the wipey cloth, the cotton, and everything else ready, and began poking around for a vein. She couldn't find one. I gingerly guided her toward the area where it is most often found, but there was nothing there either. She said I had "tiny, no-good, rolling veins," and finally tied the elastic strap around my right arm. She stuck me. Not too bad at first. But the blood didn't come, and she began moving the needle around inside. It stung like a mofo. Then blood squirted out-- not into the vial, but onto the floor! It was disgusting! She said, "Woops!" and started trying to reach around me to get something to catch the blood with-- a cotton ball, I guess-- but she was still holding the needle in my arm. I reached behind myself awkwardly with my left arm and grabbed a bag of cotton balls. She finally got one, covered the needle, and pulled it out of my arm. "That didn't work."
No shit, Sherlock. It did hurt like hell though.
She apologized, cleaned the blood off of me, taped a cotton ball over the still-bleeding hole, and began poking around for another place to stab me. After a few more minutes of poking, she threw her hands up and said, "I'm gonna let one of you do it!" and she disappeared around a corner.
A less frazzled nurse happened to walk in about that time, and asked what was going on. No one knew. She turned to me and asked what tests were being done on me. I repeated a medical term I had heard but didn't understand. She grabbed the finger pricking device and the other nurse said, "Doesn't that have to be drawn and sent out?" She said, "No, we do it here, so we can just prick the finger." A tiny prick later I was on my way back to Room 4. All that poking and bleeding wasn't even necessary.
I waited in my room for a few minutes, and the other nurse came in and swabbed my throat for a strep test. Then the real waiting began. The doctor finally came back in and said that I didn't have strep or walking pneumonia. She said I probably have something viral, and that she's seen a lot of it going around. She said it's going to take a week to a week and a half to clear up, and that I should stay home for a few days.
Right. The state test is this week. I can't miss work-- they'll kill me dead if I call in. Anyone can proctor a test, but the administrator has to be certified, I think. Anyway, it starts Tuesday. I might take off tomorrow, but I haven't decided yet. I feel better now than I did yesterday, or even earlier today, so it's possible that I could feel better in the morning. I've got a written excuse, so if I do have to call in I'm covered.
This sucks!
I have been told I, too, have "small, rolling veins." Sucks when I try to give blood.
I had a nurse like that once at the health department when I went to get tests run before going to college. She had coke-bottle thick glasses, looked like she was 90, and dug first in one arm, then the other, saying "I just can't find a vein." About that time, blood started going everywhere. She also gave me some type of shot and broke the needle off in my ass. This time, medicine spewed everywhere. I have never been back to the health department for ANYTHING.
Good luck this week.
Posted by
Anonymous |
9:41 PM
I've had pretty good luck at the health dept., but I think I told the story of how Tim had to be poked multiple times when we had our blood test done to get our marriage license. The lady who stuck us was pretty competent, but I remember being scared out of my MIND at the one in DeSoto County. When I was 12 or 13 my mother had to take me there to get all my vaccines redone so I could go to public school. The original record didn't have the dates on it, and the doctor had died. It was the first time I'd ever been to the health dept., and it was scary. I guess mom was trying to save money. I don't remember it hurting though.
Posted by
Mommy Needs a Xanax |
6:51 AM
hmm Very interesting article. Keep it up.
Memorial Day images 2014
Posted by
Unknown |
1:04 PM