me: Good MORNI-
me: -NING!! sure, let me put my purse down.
[chemo checked. time entered wrong. chemo not on unit. labs not on chart. 39485 phone calls ensue.]
me: okay, now I really need some COFF-
me: -FFEE!! sure, let me take off my jacket.
[yes, crashing, BP skyhigh but bouncing all over, respiratory status fucked, probably septic, nurse with least amount of experience taking the assignment, akjkfjsdl; 345803 more phone calls]
me: right. I - I'm going to -
[chaos, yelling, things flying through the air, people milling about, nobody watching. DIVE FOR MY OFFICE DOOR.]
Ha ha, it wasn't quite that bad. One thing saved it, actually. At one point the Assistant Nurse Manager came up to me, all worried, to say that they'd had a chemo spill upstairs, but nobody seemed to be able to identify just where the spill was coming from. The nurses were paranoid, questioning whether they should take down the chemo altogether and notify the doctor, the ANM wanted to know whether we needed to fill out an incident report. Seems the patient got up to go to the restroom, and near as they could figure the chemo leaked out somewhere, or maybe she disconnected her IV line without thinking, or who knows what... I went up to check things out.
The outside of the methotrexate bag was dry, the IV tubing was dry, there were no leaks, all connections were tight. No stains on the floor, and usually mtx leaves a huge yellow mark. Hmm. I looked at the patient, who smiled at me vaguely. She was clutching her undies in one hand. I looked closer, asked the nurse techs a couple of questions... yeah. Then I left the room to tell the nurses that they needed to assist this poor confused person to the bathroom a little more diligently. It wasn't chemo on the floor, it was pee. Bwah.
Leet assessment skills. This would be why they pay me the