silveryscrape (silveryscrape) wrote,

Morning, everybody.

Gray day here in Orlando, looks like it's going to rain, and I'm spending the day hacking and slashing pruning my F5 a bit. Also I will go to Target to return the ugly comforter, because what the hell was I thinking, and then later on do a bit of beta work. Sounds like a nice enough day.

Last night I dreamt that lilysaid and I and a few other folks went to see Nsync, and it was a big festival with many crazy things happening including clowns walking around on stilts. We didn't see the guys, but the Rolling Stones were there and I saw Keith Richards, looking old and wise and wrinkled up like a turtle. Then we saw the Beastie Boys and I was all "Woo!" and lilysaid was all "Whatever, really" and then I was shaving my legs at the dining room table while my sister rolled her eyes, and I woke up. Benadryl, gotta love it.

Yesterday I oriented in the PCU again, only my preceptor had a graduate nurse with her also. So I took one patient by myself while they took the other two, and my patient was a cool old Texas dude with lung cancer who suddenly decided he's tired of all the nonsense and started to refuse his care. So I sat the family down and all of us talked about what he did and didn't want, and then I talked to the primary doctor and the pulmonary doctor and the infectious disease doctor and the cardiologist, and told them he wanted comfort care only. It was kind of strange, because the attitude from doctors in these cases is very often that of wasted time, and another strange thing is that as soon as we stopped trying to fix him, the patient's vitals stabilized out and he started breathing easier and his hands and feet warmed up. Don't get me wrong: he will die. He had 30 ml of urine output on my shift, his kidneys were simply not funtioning, and his lungs were filling up with fluid. I've seen this before, though. It's like, they're fighting so hard against what has to be that their bodies have to go to extremes to accomplish the task. But he spent the day giving his sons and me shit instead of frantically trying to get better, a nice day, and I think it was the right thing.

God, I miss hospice. Sometimes when I'm at low ebb I wish I'd taken that job offer in Upstate NY. But I imagine they're already buried under 10 feet of snow in October, and no.

Thus endeth my journey back through time for this morning.

What's JC doing lately, y'all? What do the stalkers say? I am woefully out of the loop.
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