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Showing posts from November, 2013

smell the roses, blow out the candles

It is time, my friends, for another nursing update. Unrelated to obamacare. Politics is not my strongpoint. I've discovered this blog post is going to be stream of consciousness. Hope you enjoy it. Because I was thinking, is (are?) politics singular or plural? So I was thinking recently, and I realized that I have moved 5 times this year if I am allowed to count the times my unit moved to a different floor, and then moved back. The first work move was low stress; I wasn't there on the moving day, so all that I did was show up to a different floor for work the next day. Our more recent move back to our original floor was indeed stressful. For half the day, we only had 1 thermometer for 16 patients. Our supply room code wasn't working. The stuff in the supply room was in different spots than we were used to. Our medication-dispensing computer was on a different floor, or didn't have what we needed. Order forms went AWOL, as did several charts, our glucometer, and a phone

groceries get complicated

Lately the grocery store has been a source of amusement. I went to Randalls with my roommate after a yoga class, and the self-checkout was giving me problems with the 50% off soymilk that I was trying to buy. So a cashier person came over and hit a bunch of buttons on several different screens, one of which asked for a birthdate (which mystified me). When I got my receipt, I looked at it and noticed something unusual. I turned to the cashier "Why is liquor on my receipt?" "Don't worry about it" I think I know why it was asking for my birthday.  More recently, I went to H-E-B, and was in the dairy section considering the yogurts when I was approached by an Italian man who asked if he could tell me something. "Sure" I'm going to summarize what he said, or rather, just get to the important part. After talking about my ethnicity, my outfit, and my job, he asked for my number. Once I left the store (sans yogurt), I called my friend who