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Mar. 24th, 2007 @ 06:43 pm
Thinking it would be fun and games, I agreed to go out with our health centre's clerk and a bunch of her local gal pals to the bar after work on Friday night. They're a motley crew of first nations ladies, miner's wives, and elderly widows. Every week they gather at around five o'clock to chain smoke and guzzle alcohol like sailors on their last night of leave.

I showed up about an hour after the ladies had started. I was treated like a long lost friend. Had drinks bought for me. Was confided in. Knees slapped. Introduced to relatives. Marveled at the relationships between them. Shared jokes.

It was a great time. I could almost forget the fact that we were on different socially constructed levels.

That is, until a six month pregnant woman joined us at the table, beer in hand.

I stopped drinking, pushed my beer away, thanked them all and left. I didn't even care if I seemed rude.
Current Music: CBC- Randy Bachman's self love

Over the bra, under the shirt...out past eleven on a school night. Mar. 21st, 2007 @ 04:44 pm
Spring is here in Ross River and it's still well below zero degrees, with tons of snow everywhere. This is foreign to me. I can't quite anticipate how the warmer weather will come, but I have a feeling there will be mud involved. Lots of it.

This year's arrival of the new season also boasts the most intense case of spring fever I've yet suffered. Perhaps it's the sudden increase in light. The lack of suitable (or even unsuitable!) partners. The feeling of captivity. All I know is that I pity the poor person who finds themselves the focus of my affections. I'm certain no small amount of bodily fluids will be lost by us both in the struggle to relieve myself of this terrible aching feeling. I'm practically presenting myself to doorknobs. A little pathetic.

But to be honest, I'm not optimistic at the prospects of suitors up here. I work too much. When I'm not at work, I'm madly dashing about trying to prepare for the next bout of working too much. It hardly seems fair, so I'm taking two weeks off to hang around Whitehorse and try to get some real mischief on the go. I have no idea where I'll stay, but I signed up for a Traditional Knowledge course with an Elder from Old Crow, complete with a sweat. Probably make some friends there.

I look forward to my times in Whitehorse like a diabetic looks forward to their afternoon snack. I get tired, cranky, and start to lose focus the closer it comes the departure time. Staying in the same community for three to four weeks at a time will do that to you.

Then again, by the time I leave I'm usually running pretty low on groceries, so that could explain the hypoglycemic type reaction.
Current Location: Ross River, Yukon
Current Music: Nick Cave and the bad seeds

Haines Junction has a wildlife muffin in the centre of town. Oct. 20th, 2006 @ 08:26 pm
So. Here I am. In Haines Junction in the Yukon Territory. For three months. With Hannah. And no one else.

I'm kinda hoping I meet a bear. Or an elk. Or a cougar. Someone who would make a good dinner guest. Do the dishes. Bring some wine. A little interesting conversation.

The people here are really nice. But. It's not the same as home. Home is where you know people. Where you say something a little strange. And you're forgiven.

I think it's things like love letters from my old co-workers arriving unexpectedly that are going to get me through this. I think it's reading LJ updates from friends I haven't seen in months. I think it's climbing the mountains and eating the craziest good food. I think it's daydreams. It's pretend hugs.

Sigh.
Current Location: H-Junk, YT
Current Mood: calm
Current Music: Michael Franti and Spearhead

I love my truck. Sep. 3rd, 2006 @ 10:16 pm
Averaging 550kms per day, Southern Ontario nurses travel quickly across the country when migrating to the North for the winter. They require at least 2000 calories daily to survive but have been known to indulge in up twice that in one sitting, due mainly to boredom and easy access to high fat snack foods.


**It's nice to be homeless and mobile.
Current Location: Thunderbay, Backpacker's
Current Mood: rejuvenated
Current Music: The sensor fell off the muffler

I'm gonna get out of this place, if it's the last thing I ever do. May. 27th, 2006 @ 09:37 am
Looks like the trip up to Canada's Northland is going to go through. This time next year I will be homeless, financially stable, and ?

I've given my notice at my two jobs in Kingston for September 1. That's when I'm going to throw a box of books and my beloved dog into the back of the truck and try my luck crossing the country. Maybe both ways. Maybe I'll go to Arizona. New Mexico. Fogo Island. The possibilities are truly endless. What a feeling.

Exciting and frightening. I will need places to stay in the time between moonlighting as a community nurse practitioner in BFN. I hope you all open your hearts and floors to me and my very well behaved doggggger.

If you are interested in joining me for a spell on the road, let me know. You never know, it could be fun.
Other entries
» My Puppy!! Commentary by Mom.
www.womynkingston.ca/Hannah
» (No Subject)
"Dr. Smith, do you want me to discontinue the IV on the lady in room 7? She wants to go home." I asked.

"The lady in room 7? What's she in with?" He replied, thoughtfully palpating the patient in room 3's belly, his long white coat's pockets weighted down with various medical instruments.

"Uh...abdominal pain and nausea, not yet diagnosed."

"Wha...?" He frowned, his already wrinkled forehead scrunching up, "I haven't seen anyone in with that tonight."

I looked at the chartk, found the name of the physician taking care of her and saw that it was our other emergency room doc.

"Oops, sorry to bother you...that's Dr. Jone's patient." I skulked out of the room as he shot me a look of annoyance, nursing shoes squeaking on the clean tile.

'You're new here!, I thought to myself, 'You've got to be more mindful of stupid mixups. Try to look competent already!' I had only been in the department for a month, but there was little more room for idiotic mistakes before people would start to complain in the break room and the entire experience would slowly erode and slide downhill. What with the knee socks and nursing dresses, people already thought I was a little weird.

I took a deep breath and walked in to check on a patient I had just received from another area of the department. He was in a lot of discomfort and wanted something for pain. I sought out Dr. Smith, who was doing a teaching session with a new resident.

"Dr. Smith, sorry to interrupt, the patient in room 3 is in a lot of discomfort and needs something for pain." I said.

"Didn't I order something?" He asked.

I looked down at the order sheet. Signed in big, barely legible letters: Dr. Jones.

"Oops, sorry...uh, not your patient." He raised one eyebrow seriously. "I'm very sorry to interrupt." I repeated and quickly bolted. 'Stupid!' I mentally chastised myself.

15 minutes later: The patient in room 6 had febrile neutropenia and his temperature had actually *increased* with Tylenol administration. I quickly went into room 1, where Dr. Smith was, and told him. He quickly walked out of the room with me to the desk, we opened the chart and I saw...that the patient was Dr. Jones's. He put his hands on the desk and sighed, staring at me unbelieving. "Be more careful, please." He said impatiently, and walked away.

For the next few hours, I felt very uncomfortable around him, knowing exactly what he was thinking... idotic novice nurse. I took extra care if I had to talk to him about anything, or delegated to a coworker. Finally the department settled down a little. I was puttering around, tying up loose ends, restocking areas, and finally, could think of nothing more to do.

I heard a loud yell, followed by whimpering and followed it to room two, where Dr. Smith was suturing up a mangled finger. The patient was practically crawling out of bed, he was in so much pain.

"Can I help with anything?" I asked. Dr. Smith was holding up his sterile gloved hands, grasping a syringe in one and gauze in the other. He had run out of local anaesthetic and the man was still feeling the cold, sharp suturing needle as it pierced his skin.

"Actually can you get me more local, please?" He asked. I had some with me from a previous patient and produced it. He quickly drew it up in a syringe and froze the man's hand more. The man sat with his eyes closed.

I looked at Dr. Smith. During this process, a piece of his considerable combover had fallen in front of his eyes. He held up his hands, still sterile, unable to adjust his hair, unable to continue the procedure. The patient hadn't noticed. The minute long pause felt like ten. I knew what to do.

I slowly and confidently reached over the patient's bed, looking straight at Dr. Smith, and smoothed his combover back onto his head, out of his eyes. I patted it in place. I pulled my arm back and smiled. His mouth hung open, astonished. I knew I had been forgiven for my previous flub-ups. I turned around and walked out.

In that moment, I was gold.
» Welcome to spring potluck barbeque!
Expect the best the K-hole's socialite couple extraordinaire can dish up.

Underwear! Mexican wrestling! Sketchy neighbours! Funny hats!

Come to Meghann and Vince's!!

Bring yer friends! Bring yer dishes! Bring some food!

The place: 484-2 Bagot St.
The time: Wednesday, May 11...5pm

Seriously folks, I ain't got cutlery for y'alls. Bring a plate and fork.

Hugs are free. As always.
» (No Subject)
One of my answers to the age-old question "Why did you become a nurse?" was always..."When I have a family I will be better able to care for my kids. And when people I know start to get sick, I will be a better resource to them."

This past weekend, my grandfather became sick and was transferred from the small town that he lives via ambulance to the level one trauma hospital in the town where I live. I met the ambulance in the emergency department (my new place of work).

It was a shock to see him in the hospital bed with people bustling around him, doing reflex tests, opening his eyes, yelling at him trying to get a response, starting IVs and taking his clothes off. I sat at the end of the bed holding his foot because I couldn't get any closer. The doctor and I have worked together and know each other from the Neurology department. I told them who I was and immediately was barraged with the questions I knew they were going to ask. I speak the language and so gave the answers...a bunch of tests were done he was stabilized and transferred to the Neurology Critical Care Unit where I have also worked.

The progression was easy for me...I'm familiar with procedures and plans of care, I know what to expect and the things to ask for and predictable outcomes. But my family didn't. My mom, an emergency nurse for 15 years, was asking me questions. Everyone (I mean everyone...auntsunclescousinssistersbrothersmothergrandmother!) was looking to me for answers.

I am really glad I became a nurse for my knowledge, skills and ability but I never could have understood the responsibility that comes with the role.

It was exhausting.
» What should we name her?


Suggested: -Jungle Cat World
-Bish
-Hannah
-Dio G.
-Face Face
-Gorgeous George
-Handsome Dan


Please help. These names are horrible. She is a cross between a Golden Retriever and a Standard Poodle. Also known as: a golden doodle. You people are creative...you must have a better name!
» First day on the new job.
Nursing orientation to the emergency department is punctuated by anecdotes describing "you never know what can happen" examples that send shivers up my spine. They all start with "This person walked into the ER..." and end with "...and then s/he was intubated and went into ventricular tachycardia" or my favorite "...and then s/he died".

You also learn about how litigious it seems everyone and their family dog has become.

Yikes.
» (No Subject)
A bad rendition of a song popular with the pot smoking set drifted up through my fourth story hostel window as I lay in bed, drunkenly trying to sleep.

I poked my head out and announced, "Hey! Ben Harper! Wanna quiet down a little?"

With the reply, "He-ey! Thanks, maaaaan!"

HIPPIES!


P.S. Victoria is nothing but Kingston on roids with a good breeze. Just in case you were wondering.

Tomorrow? Miniature world!!
» Onward!
In less than 30 hours I will be leaving K-hole for a brighter, more water surrounded place...Victoria, BC.

My hope is that it will be a lovely enough vacation to win back my heart for BC.

It was originally broken on a fateful trip to Vacouver for 15 days over Christmas during first year with the homicidal boyfriend, the rebellious passive-aggressive home-schooled brother, the sugar crazed mentally retarded cousin, the rich-before-the-bottom-fell-out-of-the-gold-industry grandparents, and the evangelical christian parents who continually reminded me mybiggaymom is going to hell...unless she repents asap.

Yikes.

A travel guide was purchased to facilitate the trip. I'll go to Hugo's for mod night. I'll eat a pound of vegan buffet. I'll sleep at the HI Victoria hostel. I'll see the world's second tallest totem pole. Maybe I'll see a whale.

Sound like fun?
» Form 1.
How to explain a FORM 1 to a completely psychotic patient going through withdrawal that is determined to leave the hospital?

"Think of this as a three day vacation whether you like it or not with free drugs and food."

Usually well received. Particularly if said by an attractive young nurse in a dress and knee socks while giving you a back rub.
» Work related conflicts.
And, after a night of working with the girls from highschool who hated you because of a bad haircut turned grownup female nurses, I have decided that my comeback for every condescending quip, every wretched whisper, every hurtful hiss will be...

"You're just jealous...'cause I'm cuter than you."

Well, at least I can think it and snigger silently to myself. And then I'll help them when they fall behind, because THAT IS THE KIND OF TEAM MEMBER I AM.

Shee-it. (swagger, swagger.)

And I'm blond now.
» A permanent label for an eye.
A "Third Party Report" is a way for victims of sexual assault to anonymously file a report with the police. They do not include their name but they may include the name of the assailant (if it's known), where he lives, what he looks like and (in excruciating detail) what exactly happened.

In this way, they are alerting the cops about the incident and the offender...so if another offense comes up with that name on it or of that physical description, they can have a little more against the guy. However, if a case was to go to court where an assailant had a number of these reports against him, the cops could subpoena the files and the anonymous victim may have to be a witness for another case. Ultimately breaking the anonymity, but possibly adding strength to the case.

It's new and there are kinks but it warms my heart that victims of sexual assault can alert the cops without having to go through a two or three year long court process where they are forced to relive one incident over and over. It's a real hindrance to healing. It's been described as the hardest thing to get over. And for what? Very few convictions, light punishments, early check outs from jail for "good behaviour".

I don't think jail time is a good idea for the offenders. Jail is a good place to learn bad things.

I need to think about this more. The more I learn, the less I like how things get done around here.


And it will be interesting to see what cops do with the information. Do you want to be pulled over by a cop who knows that you brutally date raped two women in university and didn't get charged?


I think the scariest thing is that some guys don't even realize what they did. They were drunk and had sex with a girl...and that's the last they hear of it sometimes. Yikes.
» The kids.
My mom is so proud. )
» Post nasal drip.
It's a special kind of terrible shift when you realize during the first hour that the illness you thought you had been treading toward getting over for two weeks has actually been lying dormant in your fat cells, waiting for any slight decrease in immunity to jump out and attack your lungs, throat, head, muscles, and sinuses twice as bad as previously.

Twelve hours later...

I picked him up as an extra patient four hours in with the advice to let him sleep as long as possible... medically he's stable but mentally a little loopy. Subdural hematomas will do that to you.
What did I do? Left his bloodwork to the end of the shift which is exactly six hours after I started to feel like death in uniform.
My nose had been running, actually sprinting, for a few hours at the point that I entered his room. I'd been coping with frequent trips to the washroom to blow it, but it was starting to get bad.
I put on gloves and thought to myself, "Make this quick or you are going to have snot dripping down your face like the kid in Kindergarten you always gagged after you looked at.." Yeah, not really a professional look.
He woke up easily, asked me a few questions...including what country we were in. I responded patiently and reoriented him, but he seemed convinced that I was not a nurse. He eyed me suspiciously. I reassured him that I was actually a nurse and explained what I was going to do. He was not pleased with the thought that a strange woman was entering his bedroom in the middle of the night to steal his blood.
I reoriented him again and kept reminding him of who I was as I got him ready and tried once for blood. His skin was like paper and veins were of the rolling garden hose variety.
Sniffle. Jab. Vein rolls. Sniffle. Check patient. He's not happy. Pull back a little. Sniffle. Stabilize vein. Sniffle. Jab again. Sniffle. Check patient. Sniffle. He's getting really unhappy very quickly. Abort!
But convinced I could do it again no problem, I set back up quickly, found another site, jabbed, got blood back, took the sample, and as I was retracting the needle... a huge drip of MY snot fell out of my nose and on to his arm.
We looked at each other for a second without speaking. Then looked at the giant snot drip on his arm. Then looked back at each other.
Acting quickly, I smiled, sniffled, grabbed the alcohol wipe and scrubbed ground zero for a few seconds, grabbed the blood and supplies and bolted.

On another note, his next door neighbour would not believe that the bed check device* under his mattress was not a sack of plastic explosives. He even said "I am a professor of *this science*, I am not a patsy. I know that I am in danger here."

It was a ridiculous night.

*(a safety device that sets off an alarm when the weight in the bed changes...this helps to alert staff if confused patients try to climb out of bed. Indispensable.)
» Valentine's on Opposite day.
I had a wonderful SA/DV team meeting for three hours this evening discussing in detail every sexual and domestic assault that has occurred in the last month in Kingston when I maybe should have been doing something a little more Valentine's-like.

Something like listening to Micheal Jackson through my reflective silver stereo vest while eating fresh blueberries in bed and sharing a beer with a man clad entirely in baby pink.

Which is actually what I'm doing right....now.
» Time to kill.
I'm in the middle of a long time off, care of my manager who somehow forgot to schedule me for a period of about two weeks.

Do I mind? I've also arranged a solid week and a half with no call, which is a small miracle in and of itself.

So. I've got time. What was one of the first things I did? I mean, besides have a mini job interview with the Emergency Department manager who encouraged me to put in for a transfer as soon as the three positions opening are posted? Lots of things!

Am I as excited about them? Well, maybe about the miniature crocheted flowers I've been making, but not much else. Yeargh!

I feel like I've been working toward a job in ER since I can remember wanting to be a nurse. I always wanted to travel, but you need a lot of varied experience blahblahblah, so I needed a job in the ER for at least a year before any travelling happened. This is one step closer to watching Kingston fade away from an airplane for a period longer than three days.

Vince and I are thinking of a few things for next January, after his last show here...South Africa, Northern Canada, South America...the options are limitless for a teacher and a nurse.

I've always wanted to see the world.

On another note, I've joined the Kingston Women's Indoor Soccer League. I'm playing on an all lady cop team called the SIRENS that are known for being the dirtiest in the league and I've never been so frightened. After the last practice I attended, my shins and quads had trouble supporting me for days.

My first game is tomorrow night. Yikes. I'm scared.
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