Floating in the Pool

Fathers

2008-10-13T21:52:00.002-05:00

Patient: So, what made you want to be a nurse? Did you follow in the footsteps of your parents?
Jake: Nope, neither of my parents worked in the hospital.

Enter Doctor

Jake: No, my Dad was actually a minister.
Patient: So, what did your father do, Doctor?
Doctor: He was a renderer

Unheard and Unsaid

2008-10-13T21:34:00.006-05:00

Patient: My chest really hurts because of all my coughing.
Jake: A good sign you should stop smoking.
Patient: I have been hospitalized multiple times this year because of my asthma.
Jake: Probably the smoking.
Patient: Oh my god I just feel so terrible, the respiratory therapist says my flow meter results are too low.
Jake: What? With all the smoking? Really?

...

Jake out loud : So, have you thought about quitting smoking?

Pass

2007-09-14T20:54:00.000-05:00

The first one I wasn't as worried about. Sure, a little worried. I would have paged the doc if I hadn't known he would be here in an hour to see her.

He came by. He offered nothing. Left before I could talk to him. But what would I have said?

"Hey man. Doesn't she seem a little rough? Can't we do something?"
"Absolutely Jake. I got you. This patient was about to go down the tubes, but your accurate, yet totally nebulous concern saved her!"

An hour later the call light went off. I had just been in there fifteen minutes ago talking with her. Stuck my head around the door five minutes later, but the NA was there. I mean I know when the fucking train is coming. I have my ear to the ground.

Call light. Open the door. She is gray. I mean just gray, man. Shit.

I yell at her. Grind my knuckles into her chest. Her eyes flutter, maybe she groans. Quick assessment yields steady heartrate, BP holding, oxygen...oxygen is for fucking shit.

"Give me a bag!" "Call a rapid!" I can bag her up I think. I've bagged people up before. You just shove that mask on her face and squeeze 100% oxygen into her lungs.

The first rapid nurse comes in the room says/thinks "Oh, shit" and hits the code button. 5 docs and 7 nurses show up a heartbeat later.

We wait, respiratory therapy bags her up to a passable oxygen level. Blood Pressure keeps holding, Heart Rate steady. But she won't breathe on her own. We ship her off to the ICU to be intubated. I could have bagged her up by myself, but it wouldn't have done any good.

One Month Later:

Today, I'm definitely more worried. I take one look at the patient and wonder where the fuck last night's nurse wandered off to. Are you kidding me? Is this how she is? Cause this sucks.

Outside the door sits the doctor. We talk. Sure she is a little worse than yesterday, but that nursing home transfer is just a little away.

Hooookay then, I will page the respiratory therapist, hope that sorts her out. And why do I worry so much, am I a baby or what?

An hour later. Call light. I have a bad feeling. Why? I don't know. Or are the two events so close in my mind that I assume I had the premonition? Call lights go off all the time. Why did I think this woman was in critical condition?

I wasn't surprised, so I could act instantly. This time wax. An empty yellow. I see her take a breath:

Agonal respiration is an abnormal pattern of breathing characterized by shallow, slow (3-4 per minute), irregular inspirations followed by irregular pauses. They may also be characterized as gasping, labored breathing, accompanied by strange vocalizations and myoclonus. The cause is due to cerebral ischemia, due to extreme hypoxia or even anoxia. Agonal breathing is an extremely serious medical sign requiring immediate medical attention, as the condition generally progresses to complete apnea and heralds death.

I only need to see one. I think it takes me three seconds to assess and hit the code button. People start running.

"Its real!"

Before I know it the room is full. So full I can't get to the computer, can't really even touch the patient. The code team is at work. My friends are there, skilled critical care nurses. They run the code like heroes.

"How are you doing, Jake?"
"Oh, geez, you know."

And I think they do.

They work for 20 minutes. But then that is it. She passed.

Contributing to Council

2007-08-02T21:43:00.000-05:00

Council Member: So do we have any ideas for the Float Pool T-shirt?
Jake: Float Pool. We do it anywhere!
Nicole: Bwa-ha!

Critical Value

2007-08-01T22:56:00.000-05:00

Phone rings

Nicole: Hi, this is Nicole.
Lab: Hi, this is lab calling to report a critical value. Jacob Heath's Blood Alcohol is too low.
Nicole: Jake, you're such a nerd.
Lab: I know.

Nursing Humor

2007-07-03T22:36:00.000-05:00

Laughter is a transformation of fear. It first started as an easy communication of misinterpreted danger. When the tribe was grabbing the sharpened sticks for the saber tooth tiger in bush, it was the sharp eyed scout who laughed when he saw a fox instead. Everyone soon laughed with him. Phew, tension released. The biological feedback system worked beautifully. Now our culture uses it to relax after hard stress filled days at the office. Look how Cliff reacts to Theo's haircut! Hah! Don't I feel better.

I guess I do similar things in the hospital. I never thought about the weird shit I say.

"Wow, I gotta thank you. I thought I was going to finish cardiac floor education without doing any medication drips. And just in my last few hours I get to do three with you! Whoo!" I smile and chuckle. He smiles a little feebly. Because he is tired, and no matter my enthusiasm, it isn't very funny.

It was rough there for awhile, though. Blood pressure was 60/15. His body instantly covered in sweat and all his color drained from his face. There were four nurses in there taking vital signs every 5 minutes adjusting the heart medications and fluid bolus to get oxygen perfusing around his body. Four of us at his bedside, staring at the monitor.

You should be worried if your nurses aren't telling any jokes.

Cowboy

2007-06-27T17:21:00.000-05:00

Mr _____ was the nicest guy. Everyone warned me though.

Day 1
Nurse: How is Mr ____?
Jake: Oh, he is great. Totally nice guy.
Nurse: Really? Cause yesterday he totally freaked out.
Jake: Yah. I heard. Weird. He is with it right now, remembers me, alert and oriented x 3 (person, place, and time). It's funny, he is my easiest patient right now.
Nurse: Huh, O.K.

Day 2
Jake: Hey Mr _____ , I just wanted to say it was great to have you as a patient. I hope you do well, I may or may not be your nurse tomorrow. That is how it is in the Float Pool.
Mr. ____: I appreciate it, Jake. I have been very comfortable. Thanks for your help.
Jake: No problem buddy.

Day 3
Jake: Morning! I'm back, how are you feeling today?
Mr _____: Good, pretty good I guess.

He was on a video monitor. It was really there for seizures, being that we were on a Neurology floor. Maybe they threw him there because of his confusion three days ago. The first two days he laid in the bed. Relaxing. I didn't pay much attention to the monitor.

The third day he sat at the edge of the bed. Fingers working the edge of his gown. I went in to check on him. He didn't say he needed anything, but he couldn't quite be made comfortable.

Day 3 Later
Jake: Whoa, hey buddy. Where are you off to all of a sudden? We need you to hit that call light when you get up.
Mr _____: Outta my sonny! I need to go upstairs and get my shaver.
Jake: Ummm, We are on the 8th floor of the hospital. There is nothing up there. This is your room. Anything you need is in the bathroom.

The old man rose with his walker, taking three little wavery side steps to avoid falling. I stuck my arm out and grabbed his shoulder.

Mr _____: Get away from me! I don't know who you think you are. I am going to go get my six shooter and put air through you!
Mr _____: Stop smiling!

up my ass

2007-06-14T22:32:00.000-05:00

Jake: Here are your meds. They may not taste so good. They have been in my ass.
Patient: I don't want them if they have been in your ass.
Jake: No, see, remember? You told me to shove your pain pills up my ass. Its a joke.
Patient: ...
Jake: Anyhoo

cheesy

2006-10-14T11:33:00.000-05:00

Life as a nurse is different than as a nurse assistant. You have that one extra level of responsibilty. That next level of organizational thinking, you are just a little further removed from the patient.

One memory I will hold most dearly from my time as NA was when I got a request from a patient to allow her to play the piano. Not an easy request to fulfill. I had 7 other patients, most of them on ventilators and the piano was on the other side of the hospital. But I cashed in a few favors on the floor and ran my ass off for an hour to buy us a 45 minute trip downstairs.

She walked fairly slow, really she shouldn't have been walking that whole way by herself. I think that woman could have talked me into anything. A week post brain surgery, couped up in a hospital room, I knew how badly she needed to get out and feel something normal.

"Look at me back out of the elevator! Physical Therapy hasn't let me do this!"

"Ummm, let's just keep this to ourselves shall we?"

I kept a close eye on her, but she did fine. I know that is what I would have done in her place. Push the limits as much as I could. And you should have seen her eyes light up when she saw the piano. A lovey black grand paino sitting in front of a huge bank of windows.

I sat next to her in the rocking chair, staring out the windows. The sun was setting over the hill behind us. Cliche, right?

But it happened. I tell you I haven't ever really had such a peaceful hour (I had a hard time cutting her short). Just taking in the music and watching the sun go down. The moment was filled with so much. You could just feel her strength to be able to play after surgery, her joy in regaining some independence, her feeling that soon she would be healthy enough to return home to her daughters.

Most of the songs I didn't know, I just let the music wash over me. She kept asking me and I kept claiming ignorance. I guess I really should have taken band. She finally pegged my demographic and did 100 Years by Five for Fighting.

Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

Girls and boys

2006-10-10T19:59:00.000-05:00

I am staring at the man's penis, willing his urine to escape the evil clutches of his prostate. I'm not normally pushy or anything, I just have a lot of charting to catch up on.

Old Man: So you a married man?

Me: ...um, no, maybe there were a few girls I should have.

Me: How about you?

Old Man: There was this girl once in school. I was wearing my brand new shirt, and I felt someone writing on my back. I turned around and she was writing on my shirt. I said, "I am going to pick you up at 9 and make dirty love to you." At 9:30 that night she called me up crying. She said, "Where were you _____." A few years later she married some guy and her dad gave her a four million dollar wedding gift. If I had only known she had so much money.

I press on his bladder. A little urine shoots out.

Me: There we go.

True form

2006-10-03T11:18:00.000-05:00

I cannot hide what I am: I must be sad when I have cause and smile at no man's jests, eat when I have stomach and wait for no man's leisure, sleep when I am drowsy and tend on no man's business, laugh when I am merry and claw no man in his humour.

it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain

Droppin In

2006-09-21T20:51:00.000-05:00

So I just assumed the fear would overtake me. Simple, just force the body to do what you want. My mind is stronger than my body. Just kill off any doubt and move. First arm, then leg. I can do this. I am not owned by my fear.

"Alright, two minutes man."

Fuck. O.K. Turn and face the other way and get hooked up. I can't see Anna anymore. Kneeling down staring at the floor.

Click

Click

Click

"You feeling ready?"

"Yah" The nausea is still there. Palpable. Just like when I was a kid. Haven't felt it like this since I was 10. Motion sickness is NOT like a hangover. Calm the breathing. Focus.

"45 seconds" Then it starts. That rush man. The door flies open.

"Feel the wind" I stick my hand out, then my head.

WHAM it hits me. Yah thats the shit. Now I feel the buzz surge through me. Its right before the ref shouts fight at a match. It is leaned over pulling a corner at the perfect RPM. Its that big bass kick from your favorite DJs set.

No fear. Just raw adrenaline, eyes wide as saucers, muscles clenched.

Anna said I yelled as I jumped out the door. Totally wild and primal.

I don't remember yelling.

Mixed signals

2006-06-02T01:02:00.000-05:00

At first I didn't really understand what he had said. You know when you hear something that is completely unexpected, there is no box for the brain to put the concept in.

The words bounced around for a few seconds before they could come to rest. By that time he was gone. Riding away. Was I right? Maybe the traffic was loud. I mean he didn't yell it or anything. I watched him for the rest of the stop light. He turned and took another look at me too.

Hmmm, that was a red mesh shirt he was wearing. And he did kind of smile when he said it.

Well I am glad that I look cute in my Under Armour shirt. And for God's sake if Anna isn't around to enjoy my physique, at least there is someone who appreciates.

Jake vs. Everyone

2006-06-01T01:15:00.000-05:00

Arrival on the nursing floor

Nurse 1: Turn around Jake. Don't even walk in there.
Jake: Hey! How's it going?

Jake: Hi ____, How are ya doing?
Nurse 2: Oh its crazy back there. Stop smiling.

Arrival on the "I"

Jake: Whats up _____?
Nurse 3: Why are you smiling?
Jake: Umm, I don't know.
Nurse 3: You have a wild night ahead of you. You are in there with him.

8 hours later.

Nurse 2: How are you Jake?
Jake: Well. I am doing really well.

I love my job.

Jake vs. deer part II

2006-05-29T00:58:00.000-05:00

There is that time at 2:30 am when everything is fuzzy. The mind simply sits there taking in the road. The two lines play in an easy fashion, right then left, and the car stays between them on its own accord. Miles of Northern Illinois disappear in the rearview.

But then the flash of white in the headlight. The foot hits the brake and the navigator yells deer. Progressive braking made automatic through years of bicycling takes over. Squeeze, don't stomp. Slight adjust left. Tire begin to protest but the rear doesn't break loose. The deer cuts back across the road. Slalom right and let off the brake.

We go flying past six feet away from the deer.

5 seconds later epinephrine hits the blood stream and I go all shaky. Heart rate jumps 50 BPM. Breath.

6 days later returning from Canada I had a interesting conversation with my friend Eugene.

Eugene: So how do you think is best to deal with deer? (In excellent Russian accent)
Jake: Well, last time I was able to brake and swerve just enough to avoid it.
Eugene: I hear it is best just to hit deer. That way there is less danger for passengers.
Jake: Well yah, I am always sure to not lose control of the car. No deer is worth my friends' lives.
Eugene: Hmmm

5 hours later about 3 a.m. I am driving a new rental van with 5 friends blissfully asleep. The deer comes. Again the brake. This time, no swerve. Let the deer make her play. Her move is the slow stroll. Mine is the heavy foot. More squealing this time, but the van holds position. The deer never speeds up of slows down and passes 4 feet off our left bumper.

Jake: O.K.?
Eugene: Is O.K.

jake vs. deer

2006-05-27T02:56:00.000-05:00

Single of plural?

Plural my good friend. Here is a taste of the horror that awaits for when it isn't 3 a.m. and I have a little time to write:

too late for too long

2006-05-08T00:50:00.000-05:00

Pipeline thick, huge

2006-05-08T00:01:00.000-05:00

"Hey, what the fuck man? You missed it!" Ya, I know. It is pretty clear there is no blood return.

"Shit man, I ain't got time for this. Come on. You only gonna try one more time. Then I'm going upstairs. I don't care about your tests."

"O.K. Relax, I will try the other arm. I don't try more than twice anyway. Then I get another nurse."

"What's going on? You can see the vein. Just get it done."

Breathe, focus. Switch to the other arm. The first three inmates didn't exactly go easy and now I am a little hyped up. First guy I only stuck once. Didn't even try a second time. Ruined veins, diabetic. Second one bled, oh ya. A real gusher. The blood hit the back of the vacutube with an audible force. Only problem was it didn't stop. Blood running down his arm, blood on the tray, blood on the floor. Blood on the bench. This stuff gets everywhere.

"Uh, you know I got Hep C, right?" Well, I do now. Follow the standard precautions and it is safe. Still kinda slows you down though. God. How did this blood get everywhere?

Third one is the same thing. River of blood down the forearm. To slow with the gauze I guess. Another blood bath. And I know the draw is for an HIV test, he doesn't have to tell me anything. Again, clean up. One more patient left.

He walks in, 210 pounds, 5'10. No fat. Veins are bigger than mine if you can believe it. I once had a nurse claim she could start an I.V. on me at a distance of 5 feet. I guess my range is a little closer.

"The vein rolled man."

"Yah, I know. I am just going to try one more time."

"Well this time, go here. I been getting this done for 12 years."

"O.K. I will. Hey, you should be a nurse. You have all this experience."

"Really, You think so?"

"Yah, man. Hold on. One, two, three." Needle goes in bevel up. I stabilize the needle while pushing the vacutube into the port. Blood flies in. Sweet. Now just one more to go. The shakes start up though. I have an over active sympathetic nervous system and somewhere in this interaction a ton of norepinephrine got dumped into my veins. I try to keep the needle perfectly still while pulling off the vacutube. I hand it to the inmate. Jesus, he has to see me shaking. Hell even feel it. Just reach for the next tube. Stabilize. Push it on the hub. Blood flash.

Phew.

"Alright, you can go."

"O.K." The inmate walks off. He turns to the deputy. "Hey Dep. You think I could be a nurse?

"Nah, you ain't got the bedside manner."

I was being serious, though. Can't everyone be nice to sick 70 year old ladies? I was just an asshole blowing his blood draw. I guess the criminal record might hurt his chances with the nursing boards, though...

Outdated

2006-05-07T00:09:00.000-05:00

So it seems this blog is quickly becoming meaningless. Not only does Anna have another blog, this whole student nurse thing is tied down as well. I thought maybe I could bring a new perspective. Nope, the experience has been condensed into an elegant and comprehensive comic book.

Feast your eyes:

You should see the cross-over when Linda and Gertie the Social Worker join forces to take down Magneto. Hype shit man.

the rusty kind of pain

2006-05-06T02:18:00.000-05:00

So it is a litle embarrassing how much I spent on my bike wheel. It had to happen. I mean it was sunny. And it is a pretty hot bike. So I needed to get the hot wheel.

Jake: So this one is more expensive? Is it lighter?
Bike Dude: Well a little lighter, but that is not what we think about with this wheel. This one is stiffer.

Hmmm, stiffer. Instant torque application. Teh Badnezzz.

So, I took the bike out. First day. 25 miles. Pretty quick. Not slouching, but not housing shit either. Next day, sunny again, no class, no work. Just a bunch of hills west of Madison taunting me with their very existence.

First 15 miles were straight into the wind. Uphill. Trudging at 16 miles an hour. I didn't expect much. Ouch, this hurts. The hard kind of pain.

Hadn't really tested the wheel yet. Then I found some fellow riders. One guy on a Litespeed Titanium bike. Drafted on him at 18 miles an hour, got my strength back and passed him doing 21.

Mile 25 hit me and I started to feel tired again. The climbs were slow, the music in the Ipod a little subdued. I wind my way back to Madison. County K. A nice road, valleys and hills. Trucks pass, but the shoulder is ample, a comforting ride back.

Then 5 miles out of Madison the shoulder ends. Not only does it end, but there is a 6 inch drop off from the asphalt into gravel. Nowhere to ride but a foot into the road. The traffic picks up, delivery trucks due to Madison. Nowhere, but forward. The hammer comes down. Cruising speed is 28 miles per hour, courtesy of multi-ton truck drafting. Climb the hills at 21, descent at 38. Just get me off this road.

Today I weighed myslef. 1.5 pounds down. Could have been the ride. Could dehydration from the 5 hours of post ride drinking. Nothing better to help recover. Have to thin the blood, see?

the calm before the storm

the hills

A new threat

2006-05-02T17:13:00.000-05:00

In a frightening escalation in the arms race of Anna's affection there has been a new blog created:
http://iloveannatoosothere.blogspot.com/
What's more is that it has been updated daily for the last three days. Problematic to say the least. I am now investigating my different media options. Perhaps a mass community flyering, impromptu blue grass collaboration with Willie Nelson, or maybe some sort of arrangement with carrier pigeons is necessary to put down this upstart.

Why do you hate Italians?

2006-04-29T01:22:00.000-05:00

I don't actually hate Italians. It is just not much happens to me in a day. Then you try to make something interesting out of fairly boring shit...and well I guess I talk a lot of smack to make up for it.

I mean I totally respect the Italians. They make tiny cups of coffee. Their country is shaped like a funk-me boot. What is not to love?

Today, on the other hand, all kinds of cool stuff happened. I watched a nurse do an IV push of Adenosine. This drug is designed to stop a beating heart in order to readjust a rhythm. Every once in awhile I lose sight of why Western medicine is so cool, but then something like this comes along. Health through clean living, proper eating, exercise, and meditation. Why bother? Your heart gets out of whack, we will cold stop that shit and get it back on track.

Then I got to care for a guy with an all-time record number of tubes coming out of him. Moving from head-to-toe:
Nasogastric tube
Dobhoff
tracheostomy
chest tube
G-tube
J-tube
Picc Line
Foley Catheter

There were a few orificies left, but we pretty well covered them after even making a few new ones of our own.

And then we had the lunatic:

Jake: You want to watch this or something different?
Patient Z: Well you got cartoons and cartoons about n------
Jake: O.K. I am fine with this

Jake: Your wife will be here in a little while.
Patient Z: I could be here till 6 with my dick in my ass
Jake: (no comment)

They don't teach you a response to that one in nursing school. At least not in my bachelor's program.

p.s. Allesandro Pettachi is a lightweight

Thimblerig

2006-04-24T23:06:00.000-05:00

So in the last two months I have broken two bikes and fixed three. Does it turn me off of two wheel transportation?

Well my pocket book would be the best person to answer that. But actually, it is a little frightening to consider my pocket book anthropomorphized. The best description would most likely be a quiet dainty church going 73 year old woman with fits of heroin abuse. Not pretty. So best not to ask anyway. Rather lets just extend the two wheel addiction, because certainly it does feed itself.

I broke my commuter bike, a Marin Novato, by almost tearing the frame in two by climbing a hill on the way to school. But the company replaces in with a Point Reyes frame and a disc break. So you guys are like paying me money to destroy products that I buy from you?

Also there is a certain synchronicity that can't be avoided with the whole thing. Last year I bent my Jamis Ventura's back wheel making my last ascent into Monroe WI. Hot bike, Thanks Dad! After many months of winter I finally fixed it, just in time to send the Marin to the factory for a possible warranty replacement.

And then just two days ago in Fitchburg, south of Madison, I am humming along on the Jamis. Now I have been feeling rough the first half hour out. Heart rate up around 160, but my speed is puttering just south of twenty miles an hour. Then that track comes in. You know, that fucking sweet ass trance track that gets your arm hair standing up. You never admit to your friends (What? Dude that synth line is weak! I don't listen to shit like that), but secretly your palms get a little sweaty and the foot a little heavier on the gas. The body just starts to feel it and I drop the torque down on the bike. Not the crazy hammering, with the legs and arms wobbily, trying to find a rhythm out of the new application of power. No, the smooth roll on, steady torque increase out of the corner.

SPRONG!, Another spoke in the rear wheel goes. That makes a 10 mile ride back home with a self-braking bike. Once every revolution the bent wheel rubs on the brake. The only time I have been passed by a Colagno. Hamstrung, I admit defeat. Burning italian bikes is my trade.

But two days later the Marin returns from the factory. Full dealer warranty on the frame. Oh no, it wasn't the weather, it wasn't any bmx bullshit. That was funhouser tearing your shit apart. Now give me a new frame, I got some Italians to hunt.

Impressions of Germany

2006-04-07T00:42:00.000-05:00

I guarantee that this picture is not photoshopped!1!11 Yes. This is a man (husky) wearing a Brett Favre (pronounced Farve) jersey walking into a Walmart Supercenter. Strange. Not in Wisco, baby, but check out the greeting under the Walmart sign. Herzlich wilkommen. Hearty Welcome? Anna? Anyway, whatever it means, further proof is the BMW featured prominently next to the goofy looking van. Both distinctly german. No matter where you go, there you are, eh?

Apparently public construction comes complete with spikes. You have to love a country that has such a small concern for lawsuits.

So yah, didn't we demilitarize these fucking crazy krauts? A tank speed limit?
Good Lord, Ma get the gun. Those wurst-eaters are at it again.

Jake with death

2006-04-04T23:59:00.002-05:00

So after seeing my brother's lovely plug for me (Thanks Dan!), I got to thinking. Not only about my horrible literary skills, no, the fact I type at later then midnight after either multiple drinks or a work shift forgive me of that. But about bigger things. Hey, how come it always has to be Jake against the world. Sure a bunch o' mofo's are after me, but still sometimes things come together, rather than fall apart. Regardless of what laws of thermodynamics dictate.

Sometimes I work with Death. Is it such a bad thing? That swing into the great unknown?

My Dad asked me how I felt after hearing one of my first patients died. Did I feel bad? "No", I said, "it was a good death." She died at home. She died happily. She died trying to make everyone around her happy. Few patients have the positive attituted she had. When you cared for her she tried to make YOU happy. What a woman.

Still, it is easy to say that it didn't affect me. Shit. I didn't fucking see her die. She was happy when she saw me. Her family wasn't fucking balling their eyes out to me, what do I care?

No, what is difficult is seeing the widow of 56 years telling you how fantastic her husband was while he is lying dead in front of you. And then she breaks down and sobs. Try to maintain your cool then. Be that rock, son. Go on.

Yah, you got to get a little misty eyed. O.K. so you've been with this guy for over twice as long as I have been alive? Yah, there is no way I can compete with that.

This is when you fall back on your training. Theraputic communication. Echo their thoughts. Be silent, let them communicate. What can you possibly offer this woman from your own experience that will be of any use? Should I rely on my extensive MarioKart experience? Your husband dying reminds me of this time I got fucking housed by my cousin on the Nintendo 64. Everyone knows pain, but there are orders of magnitude.

So I go to work. Make good wishes for the departed, start cleaning him up. Make him look dignified.

People always talk about dying with dignity. Dignity?

dig·ni·ty P Pronunciation Key (dgn-t)
n. pl. dig·ni·ties

The quality or state of being worthy of esteem or respect.
Inherent nobility and worth: the dignity of honest labor.
1. Poise and self-respect.
2. Stateliness and formality in manner and appearance.

I hate to break it to ya'll, but no one looks stately or formal when dead. You look like a fish. A fish that lived a long fucking time and can rest now. No diginity. Tired.

I think the best people die with CONSIDERATION

con·sid·er·a·tion P Pronunciation Key (kn-sd-rshn)
n.

1. Careful thought; deliberation: We will give your proposal consideration.
2. A result of considering; an opinion or a judgment: Is it your consideration that I should apply?
A factor to be considered in forming a judgment or decision: Safety is the most important consideration in choosing a car.
A treatment or account: The essay begins with a brief consideration of the history of the problem.
Thoughtful concern for others; solicitude.
High regard; esteem.

Dignified is a half hour in front of a mirror carefully adjusting your hair to that too perfect windswept look. Consideration is money in the bank. Years of good living followed by a good death.

So yah, I think that is enough for tonight. I didn't even ramble about what I wanted to ramble about. But that is o.k. This blog was supposed to be about a fucking jail anyway. Have I written anything yet about a jail? Have I? I can't remember.

2006-04-01T00:15:00.000-06:00

I'll settle for exotic. But how much of that would I trade for a little bit of studious?

Always glad to incite violence in my family. Good jab. Now lets see the CROSS!

Too bad Dan took off his black wool coat, cause we had quite the theme going

jake vs. the respiratory therapist

2006-03-31T23:55:00.000-06:00

So, I didn't mean to run over the respiratory therapist. Not really. He was in the way. And I did TRY to avoid him. But still when I was manuvering the bed I could tell that there was some chance of him being hit. Within the complex spatial analysis of my cortex I figured there was a 30...maybe 20 percent chance of him being hit. Foot run over? No, that was a surprise. Who knew? I thought that the wheels would be further under the bed. A little footboard to the ribs were within limits of acceptable loss. You gamble a little in the hospital. Some times you win, some times you lose. Hey that clinical trial didn't clear your end-stage renal disease, I'm sorry man, we did the best we could. I mean, I apologized after I ran him over.

Was I surprised when he dropped the F-bomb on me later. Sure. No doubt. But it is not like he called ME a fucker. Just called what I DID fucking...I forget...irresponsible? no, inconsiderate, I think that is what it was. So I couldn't really disagree. It was inconsiderate. Fucking inconsiderate? Well I don't know if I can judge as I wasn't the one who had their foot run over.

Would I do it again? I would like to think not. Maybe I would ask him to move. Maybe I would wait longer. That patient didn't NEED that bed. Or well, at least not right then.

I would like to think maybe he learned something to. Maybe next time that NA is coming through with that bed he is going to think, "Yo, I could move my foot like 6 inches."

I think we all grew a lot tonight. People improving. What is our state motto? Forward!

Feelin Downtrodden

2006-02-28T20:19:00.000-06:00

Fat lip knows how it goes sometimes. If you don't just go here and click on the picture for the best video ever.

Rather jake or death

2006-02-28T15:23:00.000-06:00

After contemplating my last post I realized that the situation wasn't so much "Jake vs. Death" as "Jake or Death". Much like the posed by Eddie Izzard "Cake or Death"

"Cake or death?" That's a pretty easy question. Everybody – anyone could answer that. "Cake or death?" "Uhh, cake please." "Very well! Give him cake!" "Oh, thanks very much. It's very nice!" "You! Cake or death?" "Uh, cake for me, too, please!" "Very well! Give him cake, too! We're gonna run out of cake at this rate. You! Cake or death?" "Uh, death, please. No, cake! Cake! Cake, sorry. Sorry..." "You said death first, ah-ha, ah-ha, death first!"

Clearly Patient X desired death over Jake. A blow to the ego? Perhaps... But I don't really believe student nurses were put on this Earth to question their actions. Onward, blindly onward my fellow western medical paradigmers!

Note: this blog is not endorsed by

Eddie

jake vs death

2006-02-27T15:51:00.000-06:00

0425 a.m. in a dark hospital room

Patient X: I want to die! Please let me die!
Jake: I'm sorry, you need to tell the doctors you want to die. They will be here in the morning, and you should tell them your feelings.

X: Please just 5 minutes without the oxygen. I won't tell, the other guy let me do it.
Jake: No, you have to leave the oxygen on. You are barely getting enough oxygen.

X:Help, Help! Won't someone help me? I can't breathe!
Jake: Try to calm down and take slow deep breaths. You have your oxygen on you just need to relax.

X: You are killing me! Please let me take off my mask.
Jake: Your mask is keeping you alive. We are doing the best we can.

X: Elder abuse!
Jake: Sweetie, I know how much pressure I am using. You are fine, you need to stop pulling on your mask.

X: I am going to have bruises from your gloves!
Jake: Ummm, o.k.

X: I am going to sue you.
Jake: Well, if I let you die tonight your husband and children would sue me, so I am going to take my chances.

Jake: Don't you want to live to say goodbye to your husband and children in the morning?
X: Yes, of course. I won't die if I take off my mask.
Jake: Yes you will!

2006-02-21T22:53:00.000-06:00

Just so you never forget what a dashing man I am. Sure Ulf has the blond hair styled by the gay import straight from Milan, the bulging biceps from lifting buckets of milk, the meticulous intellect only the german school system can provide...

But I can throw a peace sign like there ain't nothing wrong girl, Come on Now!

winter says "BACDAFUCUP!"

2006-02-16T23:04:00.000-06:00

Ya have to admire a snow storm, as long as it doesn't keep me from the shit I gotta do...

Every once in awhile, winter gets a little attitude though. Lets us know we are on an unstable ball of goo hurtling through space. As Wyclef says "What? Say what? Anything can happen." And Wisconsin can go from 50 degrees to 15 with a snow storm, but quick.

Sometimes you have to hunker down on this little ball. Hold tight so it doesn't throw you off. Or bury you in snow.

jake vs. snow

2006-02-16T00:52:00.000-06:00

Contrary to modern cinema sometimes the forces of light out number the forces of dark. Millions, even billions against one. White covering everything. White in the eyes, white in the tires, white on the chain ring.

On goes the black hat, black cowl, black gloves and I ride out into the fresh 4.5 inches in order to get home.

I won this round, but the snow doesn't care very much.

2006-02-12T23:00:00.000-06:00

In case you forgot just how I look when I am talking some shit. Evelyn has clearly spent enough time around me to be able to completely tune me out. A necessary skill.

midnight snack

2006-02-09T01:25:00.000-06:00

A bit late on a Wednesday. But not much to go to bed for...So I stuff myself with proteins and await the next day. Sun should shine again. Means its cold. It was a very cold ride this morning. Much better riding the bike at midnight coming home than at 7 going to school. Nothing worse than a predawn bike ride in the winter. The last two mornings, though, the birds were singing in the dawn as I left. Every little bit helps.

Sun. morning shift comes really late on Saturday

2006-02-05T00:47:00.000-06:00

Two shots of tequilla (Jose, the sassy mexican) two hours ago and have to be up for work in 4 hours. Not too bad. A far cry from the assisted living days. Roll out of bed in Chicago after a couple hours of sleep, hung over, for a ride up I-90 to Madison. The subtle shake you get in your helmet at 70 mph on a pint sized sport bike is a wonder at coaxing even the most introverted headache to sing a lovely song. EEEEEEEEEHHHHH! Or maybe more like a high pitched WWWWAAAAHHHHH! How headaches sound? Do colors cry?

Anyhoo, much more responsible now, perhaps it is the fact people can keel over now where I work. "Oh yah, ol' dude, in room 35....um yah, he died last night"

A lot to lay on a man prior to sun up, even without a hangover. But there are parts of the job that make it worth it. Like the guy whose room I got called into a couple of weeks ago. In such pain and delirium that he couldn't stay still. Constant movement. Blood shot eyes wandering the room, unresponsive to our soothing words. Slightly more responsive to soothing touch. You learn holding a hand is nursing intervention #1.

Last week he was up, walking and talking like he was a million bucks. I grabbed another nursing assistant and said, "Holy shit is that the guy from the 'I' last week?"

Yup it was. I'm glad he didn't remember me. Hopefully he didn't remember much of that night.

adam montage

2006-02-04T16:29:00.000-06:00

Maybe the most photogenic guy I know, an ode to drunk adam.

Capturing the zen essence of a wandering belligerent monk with the smooth style of a Detriot pimp

a taste of the master

in action

adam and eve

umm, maybe my favorite picture ever, I can't help but laugh at that expression. Could he care any less that there is a hot mama shaking her boot three inches in front of him? Nope

and of course last one is a beautiful pic with anna

past pics

2006-02-02T14:54:00.000-06:00

Farwell Montage:

Blog for Anna

2006-02-02T14:37:00.000-06:00

Feb 2nd,

Not to be too specific, others can partake, but the movement is certainly for one direction.