oops....

Today I accidentally texted my pulmonary fellow, thinking I was texting Danny.  I asked her to call the exterminator.  Then I told her I loved her.

Disturbing

Yesterday one of my co-interns was wearing a fabulous pair of Frye boots.  I lusted over them.  I resolved to buy myself a pair someday.  Then I resolved never to spend more than $300.00 on a pair of shoes.  Now I am in a state of perpetual turmoil. 

Then I went home and dreamt that I had my own pair of Frye boots.  It began as a very happy dream.  All of my friends and co-workers were very excited for me and my new boots.  Then I looked down and discovered that my legs were covered in hair....thick, curly man-leg hair!  It was awful!  How could I not have noticed this when I decided to wear a mini-skirt with my Frye boots? 

The dream went on and ultimately I had to shave the legs of one of my (male) staff doctors before I could shave my own legs and remedy the situation. 

I have no idea what this all means....

Still distraught,
CBart

Anatomy of Night Float

I am on my third night float rotation this year and I am starting to notice some patterns....

The phases of night float...by Christi Bartlett

1.  The Mauling Phase
 - This phase begins as I walk through the door of the Med 3 room.  The respective members of the Med 3, Hematology and Oncology teams wait, perched, ready to pounce on me, much like fresh meat.  Then the mauling begins as upwards of 50 patients are handed off to me at a dizzying rate.  I am left bruised and beaten.  I also get to hear about the stuid thing I did the night before and how the staff couldn't believe that I gave a patient 60mEq of K instead of 40......ahem.

2. The Nursing Shift Change Phase
 - This typically happens during or shortly after the Mauling Phase.  Night nurses start their shift and notice loose ends from earlier in the day that I HAVE TO ATTEND TO RIGHT NOW!  There is usually a patient with a blood sugar of 425 during this time, as well as a patient with a blood pressure of 200/98.  Inevitably, there is also a patient who has no admission orders.

3. The "I'm Starving" Phase
 - This phase is usually starts around 2300, and involves a trip to the all night cafe downstairs.  I typically look at the same 3 meal options (frozen pizza, fettuccine and macaroni and cheese) and contemplate their nutrition facts before ultimately opting, again, for the fettuccine.  Then I have to talk myself out of chocolate milk...never easy. 

4. The "I Need More Coffee" Phase
 - This is more of a chronic issue, rather than an acute phase, but not until the "I'm Starving" Phase is over, do I typically act on the "I Need More Coffee" Phase.  During this phase I take the steps up to the 6th floor....to burn off my fettuccine....and I sneak into the nutrition room and snatch some coffee, 2 creamers and 3 sugar packets.  Heaven knows how long that coffee has been sitting there. 

5. The "Code Blue and/or Rapid Response" Phase
 - Just as it seems things have settled down, we hear the infamous beep of the code pager.  Expletives are muttered under the breath of the night team.  We grab our coats, stethoscopes and walk swiftly to the coding patient.  Usually anesthesia and the ICU team have already arrived, so we (the interns) stand against the wall and try to look like we are contributing...the whole time thanking the good lord that someone else got their first to run the darn thing. 

6.  The "Let's Try to Learn Something" Phase
 - This phase involves choosing a previously recorded lecture from a list of podcasts and trying to stay awake long enough to try to sort out ILD, UIP, NSIP, ARDS, AIP, DAH and COP.  This lecture was discontinued early as we decided that our brains were too sleepy/overwhelmed/mushy to retain any of the information. 
*These lectures are often chosen based on the attractiveness of the attending....*

7. The Sleep Phase
 - Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...........

 - And when I do get to lay down, I typically have some obnoxious VeggieTales song stuck in my head.
 - And if I don't have a VeggieTales song stuck in my head and I do manage to nod off, my pager goes off 5 seconds later.  Then I lay back down, manage to fall asleep....pager goes off....repeat cycle x 50 bazillion. 

8.  The Check Out Phase
 - No doubt the best part of the shift.  This is where you inform the primary teams of the events of the night and hand off every bit of responsibility to them.  Then you hand off the code pager...such a fantastic feeling. 

9. The Breakfast Phase
 - Usually accompanied by my fantastic co-intern....the other CB.  Bacon is always consumed during this phase.  This is where I drink more coffee....usually to cover up my horrible morning breath.

10.  The Erroneous Post-Check Out Page
 - This is when a nurse calls you about an issue after you've already checked out to the primary team.  It begins with a bit of annoyance because, "why are they calling night float at 7:30????" but ends with pleasure as you return the page and ask the nurse, very nicely, to CALL THE PRIMARY TEAM!  FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!

11. The Car Ride Home
 - This is the part of the day that I don't really remember, but somehow I make it to my house every morning....with just enough energy to climb the stairs and curl up in bed.

Then Charlie starts whining. 

Then I yell "SHUT UP CHARLIE!  FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!"

Ode to Color Pink (Crayon)

Weezy's favorite color
You were Charlie's favorite too
Now you're in the backyark
In a lump of poo

Lent - not to be confused with the stuff in my bellybutton

Ah, the Lenten season is upon us.  I typically don't give anything up during lent because 1) I'm a horrible person and Jesus will likely scold me someday.  Then he'll give me a hug and tell me, "It's cool."  And 2) I really don't have many vices....that I am consciously aware of anyway....that would be good candidates to be given up.  Danny has decided that he is going to give up coffee for lent.  This worries me.  The boy drinks two pots every day.  Minus whatever I manage to steal from him when he isn't looking.  I am anticipating a painful period of withdrawal....headaches....rigors....seizures.  Well, probably not seizures, but it's not going to be pretty.  To make things worse, he is the sole producer of the coffee that I drink and he has informed me that he will no longer be making my coffee either.  I'm not sure why I have to suffer during his time of sacrifice.  It's cruel....and it isn't very Christian if you ask me!  So I will be visiting QT on a more regular basis for the next several weeks. 

As for me....I couldn't sleep last night, so I got up and watched TV.  The only thing that was on was Two and a Half Men.  I felt a little dirty after watching it, so I opened up the Bible and read for a bit, cleansing myself of Charlie Sheen.  I sat reading for about thirty minutes, chewing fervently on my fingernails when it hit me.  Nail biting....it's what I need to give up. 

Hi, my name is Christi, and I bite my nails.  And the skin around them.  I have been a life long nail-biter, much to the dismay of my mother and grandmother who have staged many an intervention on my behalf, and have made countless attempts at bribery.  There was a time that I managed to stop biting my nails, shortly after Louisa was born.  I wasn't even trying to stop.  Babies are just that time consuming.  I didn't even have time to nibble.  I managed to maintain this life-style for several months.  During that time, I was able to enjoy activities I had never tried before....painting my nails, opening soda cans, picking my nose with more efficiency and tenacity than I've ever known before!  That all ended in July, 2010.  My first month of internship.  The combination of a certain Hematology attending and the overwhelming, un-subsiding anxiety that comes with being responsible for human lives was just too much for my little nails to survive.  It started with one nail here, half a nail there....then it became an all out massacre. 

There was blood. 

Since that time, my fingernails have been nothing but nubbins.  And my nose-picking has suffered for it.

So there....I just spent thirty minutes of my life re-hashing the tumultuous tale of my fingernail woes...which will end on Wednesday.  Say a little prayer for me.

I'm not exactly sure what to do on Fat Tuesday.....

A Lament

I've been a little bit gripey the past few days.  I will blame this on my wonkey sleep schedule and call it "lamenting" rather than "griping."  Capiche?

My first lament involves Panera.  It has nothing to do with the taste of the food or the quality of the service, but rather the fact that they have plastered the nutritional information of their food all over the menu.  Gone are the days where I could assume that because I was eating a turkey sandwich and small bowl of mac n cheese, that I was making a wise dietary decision.  I can no longer claim ignorance.  Now I know that a bowl of mac n cheese (oh Wisconsin cheddar....you will be the death of me) and a turkey sandwich have 1460 calories and 82 grams of fat.  Gah, I say!  The only thing that could possibly be worse than knowing the nutrition information of my food is seeing a picture of the cow Ruth Chris butchered to make my filet mignon.  Devastating.

Lament #2.  So, I just got a cute new pair of glasses.  They make me look smarter and more sophisticated.  I started at a 0 on the smart and sophisticated scale, so this is quite a little victory.  I have been wearing them for the past several days, and during that time, when I would look in the mirror, I looked a bit thinner.  Not that I had any reason to be losing weight (see above lament), but I was excited none the less.  Fantastic!  So today I decided to wear my contacts.  I took a bath, looked in the mirror....and did not look thinner!  Blast!  My glasses were deceiving me.  My soul weeps.

I could go on, but I'm going to chose to be a positive person now.  Cup is half full.....of cold coffee....

Over and out. 

Nights at the VA, Part Deux

"Ahh!  Salam and good evening to you worthy friend.  Please, please come closer...."

Quick!  Name that movie!

I am once again blogging from my sad little night call room at the VA.  With my sad little bowl of Chef Boyardee.  I had a week of vacation 2 weeks ago which was glorious, now I'm back at it....saving lives and taking names.  Well, I'm not really saving lives.  As of yet anyhow.  Mostly just following up potassium levels and writing for sliding scale insulin.  It's a glamorous life.  And I'm not taking names either....they're actually just given to me.  On a piece of paper.  Next to one of the names on that piece of paper are the words, "Pt's BP dropping, may crash tonight."  Ah, lovely. 

My biggest struggle so far tonight has been my ravenous appetite.  This is a bit of a problem because, well, I'm at the VA and, low and behold, they don't have a Waffle House on the premises.  What they do have is a little room with a refrigerator and random snack food.  I've visited this room twice already.  The first time I took some cereal and the second time I opted for the aforementioned Chef Boyardee.  You can imagine the vast array of culinary temptations if the best I could do was Boyardee.  I won't bore you with the details.  I will tell you that the light in the little room with the refrigerator in it has been burned out since Friday.  And it's dark.  And scary.  I have to prop a basket up in the doorway so the door won't close all the way.  If I could remember anything about physics, I could do a better propping job to keep the door open a little wider....but that was too many years ago and my brain has grown old and weary. 

So anyhow.  Now I'm eating my twicely aforementioned Boyardee waiting for some labs to come back so I can try to go to sleep. The good thing about working nights at the VA is that I typically get a few hours of sleep.  The bad thing about working nights at the VA is that I have to leave my sweet husband and cute little P. Nutty girl at home. 

In closing.....
 - Vacation = glorious
 - I'm hungry
 - Following up on and replacing potassium = glamorous
 - I miss my peanut
 - Goodnight