I really did have good week in clinical overall, even though one of my patients died a not so sudden death yesterday. He'd had a long life and lots of morphine and literally went with about seven friends and his wife standing over his bed. May I be so lucky.
My friend Dorothy knows the entire Mighty Mouse song and sometimes sings it to herself at work, substituting "nurse" for "mouse." That was me today, baby. I was on the case. My people were medicated, powdered, massaged, and soothed. At one point, I got down on my hands and knees to scrub out a shower because I couldn't find a housekeeper and my patient wanted to use it. I scrubbed that shower, and it was worth it. So imagine my disappointment when, twenty minutes before I was supposed to give a case presentation to the nursing students, my instructor told me she had no plans to let me proceed ahead to Pediatrics next week.
It could have gotten ugly at that point. But I managed to hold it in for another hour and a half until after I gave my presentation (I rocked by the way), when I gave her a Blow-Pop (I happened to have one on me) and launched into my monologue, "Why Jayne Deserves To be Signed Out Of Oncology Today." Mostly it was desperation, but the argument "because I really, really want to" has predictably little sway with these instructors. In the end I pointed out how disruptive it would be to my orientation as new grad RN if she didn't let me go, which is a legitimate point, but she laughed at me throughout my pitch and joked to her assistant at my expense several times before she finally agreed to do it. She then pointed out that I can be a lazy thinker (true), sloppy (double true) and sometimes distracted. But she finished off by saying she was not worried about my going off into the world as a nurse. So she signed me out and I hit the ground running.
So ends this bleak week of October, 2006. I've got some Veronica Mars to watch. Here is a picture of the most recent flowers Jeff got me. They're in a vase on a living room table next to a pair of his boxers, which have been there for several days. Boxers in the living room don't generally bother me. I don't how they got there and I don't need to know. Jeff has been cooking and cleaning like a dynamo since I started nursing school, and all he asks is that I remember to screw the cap back on the salad dressing when I'm done with it.