Lent

Hmmmm...I should remember to mention from time to time that everything in this blog is fiction. This is my fiction experiment. Done anonymously so's I can develop my chops as a writer. Any reference to anybody living or dead is purely coincidental. Also, if in reading this, you do get a feeling of where Little Dixie might be, and you think you recognize a patient or someone else you know--you don't--I've hopelessly scrambled everybody--changed men into women, old into young. Some of the disease processes are pretty standard, so I'm letting them stand--just thought I'd let everybody know...
We're sick again in our house. Fever and upper respiratory stuff. My ribs hurt so much from coughing I can hardly breathe. The right side of Nick's face is swollen--it just disappears into his neck. I missed three days of work--I never miss work--but I've been flat--my back hurts from being in bed. Even Pebbles the psycho cat is being nice to me. If I don't get out of the house soon I think I'll lose my mind. Jay has been in Las Vegas the last 3 or 4 days, climbing at Red Rock. He got back late last night. I gave him five dollars to play for me. He called me from the airport--I was ridiculously happy to hear from him.
"Did you win any money?"
"No--$26--okay yes. And it rained."
"It's not supposed to rain."
"That's what I thought. So we didn't get back into the canyon at all--but we did get some nice one or two pitch climbing done--easy stuff--I'm getting better."
"Gravity's less of a problem?"
"Seems to be.
He played my five at the slots at the airport with me on the line, lost it all. "It goes quick in Vegas," he laughs.
I felt guilty for not working. I have a new orientee whom I really like--I like all of them, actually--and I didn't want to leave her in the lurch. I need to get her a little braver about jumping in. She's nervous about correcting the doctors.
"Just make it into a very polite, sincere question, as if you yourself are truly confused" I tell her.
She looks at me like it's a revelation. "Oh, my god. That's what you've been doing all along."
I smile. But inside, I'm a little irked. Did she think I was an idiot?
"You have to do it. You can't let an error slide--that's your responsibility to the patient. But you can't piss off the doctors either, and you don't want them feeling too demeaned--their egos are fragile at this point--but you have to get it done. "
I hate being in this position. Who cares about their precious egos? But that's the nursing game...part of it. This emotionally abusive relationship we all have with physicians. Not all of them, of course. For the most part, the ICU is refreshingly and shockingly egalitarian. The doctors know and respect the job we do, all baiting aside.
In rounds there was a question about in's and out's on our patient. The Dragon was presiding.
The ins and outs on our patient were dramatically out of proportion.
"Well, obviously," Dragon says, "the nurses screwed up the documentation. They always do"
"Darn!"I said,"you're on to us. That's why you're the doctor...."
"lent...."he says warningly.
I had decided to give up baiting The Dragon for Lent. He's been merciless.
Lasix was duly prescribed.
That's my 1/2 hour.