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Friday, January 11, 2013

Black Humor of Medicine

I ran by to see mom yesterday afternoon only to find there is a bug going around at The Edge on her unit, so since she was fast asleep, I didn't linger.  I got a squirt of hand sanitizer on my way out the door and hauled it out of there.  Since they have to keep it really warm for the residents, that allows a bug to go full tilt in a hurry.  Cold, griping residents or a bug?  I say wrap 'em up, but then I don't get to call the shots over there.  So, for the short term I'm staying way the heck away from over there.  I need the flu or the norovirus like I need a horn in the middle of my forehead.  No thanks.

Further scoop over there is that the remodeling in her area is "due to start at any minute".  Hmmm...since I've been hearing that for months, I am guardedly optimistic that it might start by Spring and even that might be an over assumption.  IF you are picking up a note of scorn in my voice, you are correct.  I am not pleased over all, nor is my sister, with the level of cleanliness we are experiencing over there.  The whole unit needs a face lift--paint, paper, etc. and general sprucing.  I do understand that with the cognitive level of lots of the residents it probably doesn't matter two hoots what it looks like to them and that keeping it clean is as difficult as having a unit full of toddlers, but to visiting family, it's tough enough without the added depressing surroundings.

 I know I'm somewhat picking nits here--the real issue is, it just hurts to go over there.  There.  I said it.  And, if I'm going to be brutally honest, I honestly hate going sometimes.  Whew.  Nothing like getting that out.  It's so sad and painful, that when I go, I just don't stay a really long time.  Some people can.  I can't.  Then other times when I go, mom makes me laugh, something hilariously funny happens, and it's not so bad.  The Big Fat Problem problem is, you never know which way the pendulum's going to swing and when it smacks you in the face, it hurts. 

In closing, a little black humor for any nurses or for Dr. Frostie, should she read this:  the Nurse Manager and I were talking yesterday about recent events over there ( several deaths) and she mentioned a new lady had moved in a week or so ago, and then just up and died last week.  We looked at each other and burst out laughing.  I can't explain it to you--it's just the black humor of medicine.

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