You better wipe that look off your face before I do it for you..

Okay so there is one thing that bothers me like crazy.  Well, not just one, but one thing that is gnawing at me right now.  Which is not good because I just opened my eyes a half hour ago from my peaceful slumber.  I've been doing that stupid internet dating site.  I hate it.  I prefer to be in a bar or public place, where I can see someone face to face.  That way, when they say something stupid, I have the opportunity to punch them in the face, or the balls.  Okay, so I would never do those things.  But, I would roll my eyes at you, turn around and continue talking to my friend.  On this internet thing, the worst thing I can do is ignore you and some of these dudes don't even get that.  

So.  What I am about to share is my personal opinion, that I happen to feel strongly about...

I love it when I am having good chemistry with people, not just men I am interested in dating, but just good conversational chemistry.  Be it with patients, patient families, new acquaintances, or a potential love interest.  I love it when they ask me if I'm an LPN or an RN.  No, I hate it.  Because if they are asking, chances are they only know the letters LPN or RN, not what the fine print means.  I've considered keeping copies of my scope of practice in my back pocket or purse.  Because I really fucking hate it when I say LPN and the response I get is "Oh."  Like I just told you there really is no Santa.  Or you're a 3 year old man child and I let the air out of your balloon.  Oh?  You better wipe that look off your face before I do it for you.  

Let's get things straight.  Chances are, I am the one who is at Nana's bedside.  Does Nana have a hard time feeding herself?  Chances are, I am the one in her room feeding her at meal time.  Is Nana scared about her pending surgery, lab results, etc.  I'll be there to hold Nana's hand and lend an ear when you are not.  Is Nana in pain?  No problem.  I can get those pain meds, unless she needs some IV push pain medications -that I cannot do, it is out of my scope of practice.  Wow, you really got me there.  Let's keep going.  Did Nana need labs drawn or an IV put in?  I'm on it.  Does Nana have a Stage II, III, IV wound on her buttocks, back side?  Not a problem.  I love doing wound care and I can clean and dress a wound just like the RN, the RN who probably has just enough time to come in the room, assess the wound and get back to his/her documentation/charting.  Did Nana just have surgery?  She might have drains that need to be cared for.  I can do that.  Incisions to be cared for, I can do that too.  Does she have fluids running through her IV?  I hung them.  What about that medicine running through that IV, I hung that too.  Did Nana just stop breathing?  I got this, I function at my highest during a code.  I can provide suction to clear her airway,  I can give Nana CPR.  If Nana stops breathing and is unresponsive - the MD arrives and asks all sorts of questions - who answers them?  I do.  I answer every mother fucking question.  In fact, on several occasions, the MD has taken my suggestions!  Because I am a god damned NURSE.

I could dance circles around some of those RN's out there.  And sometimes I do.  If you're a shitty RN and try to use me as your workhorse - I will dance circles around you - and in my nonchalant way I'll make you feel like shit too.   My coworkers, the ones I've been with for quite sometime now, respect me enough ask me for guidance and direction when they are stumped.  But, I'm just an LPN..

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Welcome to the neighborhood!

*Names have been changed to protect the mentally unstable who screw with my life in all posts.

I just moved into my very own first place.  No roommates.  No boyfriends.  Just me.  I live in a condo, so I have people above me and below me.  Kind of like apartments.  My first weekend here I was taking empty moving boxes to the trash when I met Kacey, who lives in my building.  Kacey either has a cocaine problem or she has ADHD.    A handshake would do for me.  I'm not a toucher, especially with strangers; Kacey hugged me like I was her long lost BFF from summer camp circa 1997.  Cool.  Whatever.  Then I met Lindsay.  Oh Lindsay.  She has 3 cats and lives on the top floor of the building next to me.  She has several motion sensor lights hooked up to her sliding door on her 3x6 deck, 3 stories up.  I don't know who she thinks is climbing her tower but apparently she's not expecting Prince Charming.  They gave me the complete, detailed lowdown on the building.  I thought that maybe they were going to make me chug a 40 next or something, like rushing a sorority.  No such luck. 

My Sorority sisters filled me in on my downstairs neighbors.  Apparently they are a "nice couple" with a son who is LD/MR (for those of you who do not know that means, LD is learning disabled and MR is mentally retarded) which is fine with me.  Before I was a nurse I worked in special education for 7 years.  The son plays piano is what my Sorority sisters told me.  Cool.  Whatev.  I've seen "Mom" outside, smoking on the sidewalk.  Mom looks like she could use some Bob Marley, two months at the spa and a nice cocktail of clonazepam and lamictal.  I think maybe I'll write to Ellen for her.  Anyways, she never says hi.  I think she's too tired.  Today, I figured out why.  I don't know their son's name, nor do I want to; because I do not want to be dragged into strangers lives.  But, I'll call him Toby.  Toby was up at 445am today.  Sounding like a rough morning for all parties below, lots of loud yelling, screaching, and "white noise" if you will.  I turned my ipod dock on and fell back asleep, I could sleep through anything.  Had my breakfast with Dad, see below.  Layed on the couch until my shift.  I woke to the sound of scattered piano sounds.  What?  Where is that coming from?  Ah, I realized it was Toby.  I turned my TV off and listened, I actually fell back asleep to Toby's piano skills.  Rock on.

Wednesday this week I woke up and made myself some breakfast.  Still in my PJ's, braless, making breakfast.  Fuck.  Its my house, I won't wear a bra and you can't make me.  All of a sudden I hear frantic knocking at my door and my doorbell having a seizure.  I ran around my house like a crazy lady searching for something to throw over my boobs.  I found a sweater, a cardigan; cause that's going to cover them up..  Anyways.  I answer the door and there is this middle aged woman standing at my door with wet, strawberry blonde hair.  This woman looks like she's been rode hard, several times and put away wet; literally.  The next series of events are still a blur..it went something like this:

"Hi!  I live upstairs.  I was on my deck smoking marijuana and I dropped it and it fell through the cracks and I think its on your deck." So I said "Okay..." and before I could finish she says "I'll just grab it. Wow, nice place down here." As she bursts through my door and makes a beeline to my deck.  I followed her to the deck and when I looked at everything she was picking up, there's weed all over my deck, one rolled blunt and a half smoked blunt. The nurse in me is thinking "Does she have Parkinson's Disease?  I don't see any tremors.  Wtf?"  So I am standing in my kitchen flipping my eggs while Mustang Sally goes on for 35 minutes about all of her medical problems and why she smokes the Bob Marley.  I thought too bad it didn't fall off my deck into Mom's flower bed below me, poor Mom, she could use the Bob Marley.  I started to eat my eggs while she was talking.  I didn't offer her any.  Fuck that bitch.  Inviting herself in my house by practically shoving me out of her way, in my house!   I wanted to say put a rug on your deck and next time you invite yourself in - take your fucking shoes off! 

Before she left she added a few fun facts.  First, she was here visiting her daughter from Florida.  Her daughter lives upstairs.  Is recovering from gastric bypass surgery, doesn't have many friends and then asked if I could be nice to her.  Sure.  Now, get the fuck out of my house.

Yesterday Time Warner came at 10am to set up my cable and internets so I can watch cat videos and stalk old boyfriends on facebook.  Those are important things in life and I had been cut off for 3 weeks, I was losing my ever loving mind!  Anyways.  Time Warner guy was here doing his thing.  I could tell he was a smoker, actually I could smell he was a smoker; but he was kinda cute.  Cool.  Whatever.  My doorbell rings.  Wtf?  Who is here?  I open the door and there's this chubby redheaded girl covered in tattoo's standing at my door.  In baby talk, she says "Hi, I'm Macy and I live upstairs."  I stopped her right there and said "Ah, yes.  I met your mother the other night."  She then says to me "My Mom said you were a nurse.  I take lisinopril for my blood pressure.  Can you take my blood pressure and look at my incisions?"  As she lifts her shirt up to show me all of her incisions.  Macy put your god damned shirt down.  So I take her blood pressure and gave her a tube of triple antibiotic ointment and tell her to go see her doctor.  All the while, the cable guy is checking on us, I could tell.  She left shortly after.  I found the cable guy in my office hooking up my internets.  I said "I just want you to know, I'm not running some sort of ghetto med clinic.  Her mother told her I was a nurse, I've never even met her.  Her mom came down here to get her marijuana off my deck."  The cable guy laughed and said it was cool.  Whatev.

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