Douches Part Deux

There are so many douche bags to talk about and so little time.

So the other day another LOL comes in from Shaky Graves Nursing Home with Altered Mental Status. She looks to be about 90 pounds soaking wet and drier than a popcorn fart. Her lips are crusted with junk, her tongue looks like a prune and when I insert the foley I get about one drop of urine.

Following the ambulance in is her crazy douche bag daughter from hell. Oh, excuse me, she's an RN from New York and she just flew in to town. Well, fuck me dead, bitch. Like I care.

So, she's hovering like a helicopter over Mother and up my ass asking for a toothbrush, soap and water for a bath, ice chips, some Motrin and a Xanax. I tell her let's wait for her to be seen by the doctor, first. She huffs and puffs a little and in walks one of my favorite docs, a little petite thing with 5 kids who looks like she's 15. RN from New York tells her in a rude way to step out because we're in the middle of fluffing and buffing. She said this only like a New Yorker can. To which my favorite doc looks at her, puts her hand out and introduces herself. Nothing like a little southern charm. HaHa, you should have seen New York's face.

Anyhoo, we get to hanging some fluids, do all the usual stuff and this freak wouldn't stop with the constant demands. It was like she was tweaking on sugar or something and I felt like I was going to start twitching any minute. She intimidates enough that we get her some Xanax and a Motrin. One sip of water and she's coughing up a lung. I suggest we hold off because I fear she is aspirating. Nope! She says she'll take full responsibility for it and insists it be given. After discussion with Sweetness Doc, we decide we need to up our Press Ganey scores and give the meds. I crushed them, got some yummy pudding and let New York RN administer. (All documented as such in a very professional way, of course).

About 2 hours later she was on a vent. I wish I could have said told you so, but I'm not that way. I smiled and comforted like the dumb nurse that I am from the south.

Moving on, a dude with HTN whose wife was pregnant. He asks me if I can get her a stretcher to lay down on. Uh, sure. Just let me kick a sick patient off one so we can help you out a little. Douche.

19 year old female shows up as a psych hold after threatening to kill her brother with a knife. We go into the bathroom to take her clothes off and get a drug screen when she pulls up her leg, shows me her kitty cat and tells me it's warm and silky. Okay, sister we're out of here. With urine in hand, she's walking back to her stretcher, but unbeknownst to me, she had opened her gown in the back so her ass was fully exposed to all of the medic students who had just arrived for orientation. Fun times I tell ya. PsychoDouche.

Two 18 year-old frat boys come in with a couple of gigantic Red Bulls in hand and tell me that the car they were driving suddenly backed into a concrete pole and the windshield shattered. Okay, he had a little tiny .01cm sized lac on his eyelid and he was also extremely fucked up on something, I suspected Oxy and Xanax. They deny that, however. Doc Crotchety couldn't wake him up enough to get a straight story, but they did tell him that they thought the car ran into an overhanging branch causing the windshield to break all over them. Hmm, overhanging branch or concrete pole? They do like alike. Spoiled frat boy double douches.

Hip Hooray! A whole two days off. I think I'll give my precious little puppies a bath and watch Lee sing Hallelujah again on the DVR.