t&l where are you & that story? sleeping off the late nights again? how you keep doing the night shift is beyond me but I guess yur body gets used to it .........eventually

<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

Now I forgot to let you know how AUSSIE is didn’t I.

He says he was very tired and was only just getting some rest. He was clean for the first time in 2 weeks or more.
Long periods of boredom he says especially in the mountains but not bad when they can move. Said it was wild rugged place really reminds him of our outback up North a fair bit, dry dusty, but cold & getting colder.

Told me sand & dust got into everything, food, clothes, hair, eyes etc, ate it, shat it – ewwww yuck – lots of cholera, malaria & other bugs around everywhere. It’s a bit of pot luck he says knowing what you may get if you are not careful.

Emailed a lot of things in general about what was going on here, said he wished he was home with me & Mikey and the kids for Christmas but maybe next year.

Not bad where they are now though – wherever ‘that’ is.
Plenty of booze on the black market <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> clean digs, clean clothes, showers with warm water, Cuban cigars <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />, most everything to keep soldiers entertained. Yes including ..ah…horizontal entertainment . is the way he put it. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />
Said he shudders thinking of what the silly young & not so young buggers might catch – ‘dear mum don’t worry abut the wood I’m bringing home a load’ was his description! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" />

Well he’d better not! We made some very bad jokes & he slowly started to type really really bad <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" />
so I told him to stop drinking, go to sleep and email, phone if possible the next day or at least before he had to go out again and to take care as a little boy really needs his dad and I needed him. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />
I got ‘k’ and that was it.

So he's ok
<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

Good grief! Where'd he get all that hair? At that age, my kids were all still channeling their inner hard-boiled eggs, and were essentially bald. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/smile.gif" alt="" /> Such a head of hair that boy has, and he's grown just a tad from that first picture where he already looked so humungous! Betcha you're glad you're not giving birth to him now!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Let's see how much I can get done before somebody puts a call light on. Honestly, the way some of these women treat their call buttons, you'd think they'd been told they were eggs that would hatch if only they'd just keep them warm. Constantly. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

In order to catch the flavor of this story, there's something that needs to be said for context. One of the things I like most about this hospital, and one of the major reasons I haven't left to take a traveling job somewhere else, is that a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) nurse attends every delivery. This isn't true at most places, where L&D nurses are almost always expected to receive babies as well. I have a card which says I'm certified in neonatal resuscitation. Piffle. I spit on my certification. I don't like to do babies. Here, I don't have to do babies. I'm not comfortable doing babies. And furthermore (I may <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> have mentioned this before), I DON'T LIKE TO DO BABIES!!!!!!!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> Until the moment the baby is out, and the cord is cut, what happens to both of them is my responsibility...but when that cord is cut, the baby is no longer my problem. And this is as it should be, like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, the geese migrating south for the winter, the swallows returning to San Juan Capistrano in the spring--well, you get the idea. No babies. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/tongue.gif" alt="" />

So the other night I had a patient who was here to be induced after an ultrasound indicated poor fetal growth, not enough amniotic fluid, and possibility of the cord around the neck twice. The physician's choice of induction methods was something called Cervidil, which is a small flat (1-1/2"x5/8") packet of medicine attached to a long string. The insert is placed up behind the cervix, where for 12 hrs. it slowly releases prostaglandins that are to prepare the cervix for induction the next day. It's primarily used for women who need to be induced, but whose cervices are not favorable to the procedure. Usually we put them in at bedtime, give the woman a sleeping pill, and the next morning they're pulled out by the little string and then the induction proceeds.

Every now and again, just for a change of pace, someone will go into labor just with the Cervidil, but that's comparatively rare...which is what the MD told the pt's husband when he asked if the baby would be born that night. "Oh, no, not tonight. Sometime tomorrow afternoon maybe." (Note to physicians: Beware making predictions) By the time the medicine was finally placed (by me, somewhere near a cervix so far back, so closed, and so high I couldn't actually reach it!), it was 10:30 at night. I tried to encourage her to take a sleeping pill, and told her that the L&D department isn't a very quiet place and that she might (haha) have a hard time sleeping if she didn't take something to help her out; but she didn't want it and refused to take it. OK, fine with me--I'm staying up all night, too, but at least I'm getting paid for it!

At 3:00 AM, and right after her next-door neighboor finished delivering at the top of her very fine set of lungs, hubby came out to tell me she'd changed her mind and would take the sleeper after all. By now it's kind of late for a sleeper, but since her med went in late, and isn't due to come out for hours, I decided to let her take it anyway, because she can sleep in in the morning. (Double haha <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />) 45 minutes later, he was out there again, saying that she's having a lot of pain now and wants some medicine. So I checked her, and found that she was 6cm, the head was low and the bag bulging. So I started an IV and gave her the usual dose of pain med that the MD ordered, which promptly put her to sleep. She was asleep every single time I checked her for the next hour, dull as dull could be, until I went in and found her pushing in her sleep. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

Checked her again, and thumped right into the baby's head. I told the other nurses to call the MD for delivery immediately, because although he was sleeping in the Kaiser sleep room just across the street, he moves rather slowly. It took only a few minutes to get everything ready for delivery, by which time I could see the head with every contraction, even though she wasn't pushing very well and I certainly wasn't giving her any coaching on how to do better. My NICU nurse was a young man, 22 years old, and 1-1/2 years out of nursing school. I would've preferred a fellow fossil, but he was doing deliveries that night and I knew they were trying to train the new ones so figured I had to play the hand I'd been dealt.

We were doing nicely in a holding pattern, awaiting the arrival of Dr. Slow, when the water bag popped. Unfortunately, the water bag was the only thing holding the baby back from delivering, so with the water I got a very precipitous appearance of a baby with the cord around the neck only once, but so tight that I had to clamp and cut it before I could deliver the body. When the baby plopped out on the bed, he made a gasp. He had excellent muscle tone, good grimace, and a normal heart rate. These are all good things. What he didn't have was spontaneous respirations, secondary to the mom's pain medicine given an unfortunate 1 hr. before delivery. I handed him off immediately to my NICU nurse just in time to see the placenta deliver in a flood of blood, as it turns out the patient was abrupting. So I had my hands full dealing with the mother right then, and the baby was (I supposed) safely in the care of the nurse who had responsibility for him. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

I've got to go and check on a patient. I'll be back in a few minutes, unless something weird comes up.

t&l

Well, how was I supposed to know? I can guess. Estimate. Predict. Extrapolate. But it's not like I actually have a crystal ball! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> And when a baby isn't breathing, all the other excellent things, such as muscle tone, grimace, heart rate, and color, quickly go by the board.

The antidote, if you will, to this problem is an injection of Narcan which counteracts the narcotics on board and allows respirations to continue...or in this case, to start. About this time, Dr. Slow walks in, and from where I'm busy with the bloody mama (no swearing, real blood! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />), I can hear the following conversation.

"The baby's not breathing."

"No, he's not breathing, is he? He's looking kind of blue, too. Maybe you'd better give him some oxygen."

RustleRustleRustle from the warmer. No crying. By the baby. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" /> (me) "The mother had narcotics an hour ago. The baby needs some Narcan."

More rustling as the baby is externally stimulated, but no bagging, which is what it needed, along with the Narcan.

"He's still not breathing."

"No he's not. And he's getting awfully purple" (What is with these two, anyway? It's not a sunset, for Pete's sake, where you compare esthetic notes!)

Louder, this time. A little more force. Some deeper, um, sincerity. "The mother had narcotics an hour ago. The baby needs Narcan."

"What?"

"T-H-E B-A-B-Y N-E-E-D-S N-A-R-C-A-N!!"

I expected to have him ventilate the baby while someone was called from NICU to bring the necessary medicine. It's what should have happened. Instead, right about this time, I heard a little flurry of noise, and looked up to see the NICU nurse disappear out the door, leaving the MD standing at the warmer next to a non-breathing infant with a useless stream of oxygen coming out of the mask carefully placed next to his non-functioning nostrils, and a gentle waftig of the curtains the only sign that anybody else had been there! "Hey, you come back here. Where do you think you're going?" I called, but nobody was there. I hurried to the door and looked down the hall. There in the distance was his retreating back (he was 22 and could run fast!) as he headed full-speed towards the NICU to get the Narcan he hadn't brought, in his pocket, to the delivery. I yelled for one of the nurses at the desk to call the NICU charge nurse and get somebody in there immediately, and turned back to the warmer and a baby who was now flaccid and of an extremely-unattractive hue...and how come he was MY responsibility, anyway?

So I grabbed the ambu bag and started puffing away like a jogger on methamphetamines, while the Dr. stood beside me watching, and said, "Well, I haven't intubated anybody for years, but I suppose I could try." And I said, "puffpuffpuffpuffpuff He doesn't need intubation. He needs Narcan puffpuffpuffpuffpuff." And I yelled again out the door to see why nobody from NICU was coming back to take over. I could see that even though the baby wasn't breathing on his own, he was pinking up with the resuscitation, so I knew his blood was circulating and confirmed it by palpating his heart (and palpitating my own!). About this time the NICU nurse came back, bringing the Narcan and a can-do attitude. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> When he took over, I went storming down the hall looking for the charge nurse to see what in blazes had happened to her all this time.

I met her coming down the hallway at an amble, and she must've been able to tell by my face ( <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />) I wasn't happy, because she said defensively, "I had 2 babies that needed to eat."

And I snapped back at her, "Oh, yeah? Well, I had one baby that needed to breathe!!!!!!!"

Anyway, baby was fine after the Narcan, and I can tell you one young man who will never come to a delivery again without a vial of it in his pocket! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Sorry it got sort of brief there at the end, but I got a real, live patient who takes precedence over reminiscing about previous ones. In retrospect, the sight of that kid's retreating back as he hoofed it down the hall to get the medication--and away from his post of duty--was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. And the rest of the L&D nurses and I spent the rest of the night laughing about it, especially the sight of me standing at the door to the room and calling futilely, "Wait. Come back." They all saw it, since he ran by them and nobody could understand why he was leaving, and in such a hurry, too. However, all the laughing came AFTER the baby was fine. During the crisis, my main thought was, "What the (*&(^&$%$^(* am I doing bagging this kid? I DON'T DO BABIES!" <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" />

Let me say again...I'm too old for this much excitement. I need a dull, but high-paying job! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Everyone..t&l is running for the Senate ...lol

just not sure which one...ours or hers ..... pretty much the same job decription though ........ <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

Are there particular reasons that you do not want to work on babies t&l?
My FIL did midwifery in his medical practise and enjoyed it immensely but he also did not like working on small babies post birth unless he had to.
yet once he was back in his surgery he did the lot no problem.
As aussies says... 'he never made a cracker out of it' but loved the work.
I suspect it was a sort of guilt driven originally..after 3 wars he felt he should bring life into the world not take it.

I do wish that he had lived to see our children. it might have allowed Aussie to have some peace in this area of his life. But we have what we have not what we wish.

If I wanted to prostitute myself, surely there are easier, cheaper, and quicker ways to do it! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> Hope there are no actual politicians reading these threads! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/blush.gif" alt="" />



Don't do it often enough. Too much can go wrong. Don't feel "good" at it. It is outside of my comfort zone, which, at the age of 57, I'm not particularly interested in expanding. I don't mind doing bottle feedings in the nursery. Love to do breastfeeding teaching. I just like working with mamas, and babies (as long as they're inside said mamas). Having said that, I'm not all that interested in the mamas after delivery either, which is why I don't work post-partum unless forced to do so. Stitches, hemorrhoids, bleeding, and pain pills. Not my cup of tea. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> I'm apparently becoming pickier the older I get, unfortunately.



Ain't that the truth?! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

Have a nice day, AW, and everybody else who will be awake while I (hopehopehopehope) sleep. HP is going to SoCal to spend a week with his mother. Nobody to wake me up or tell me what to do. How will I ever cope? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/confused.gif" alt="" /> I'll force myself, that's what I'll do! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Not me T&l it is ngiht over here ...we are on the same 'wake' time .... <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" />

Of course I have great problems sleeping most nights ....getting a 5 yr old to bed when her big play friend - DD is awake and studying is a forgotten skill -- well I think I had it before or did I simply let them stay up or threaten them with dad ..........."wait till I tell our dad' weekly phone call?

But anyway the little girl is sound asleep, Mikey is too, he seems to have adopted Lisa as a new hug bear <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

I think she is missing her mom & dad & brother. Very clingy of course and when mom rings she just hops up & down like ants in her pants.

Well, I finally got the two money lists - mine and hers - dealt with, too. And asked her the necessary questions about discrepancies and categories. I'm not going to break any furniture this time, and some chocolate should soothe the trauma a bit.

One of the nurses just gave me a huuuuuuuuuuge box of chocolates, and in the nick of time.

After I visit the little girl's room I'll be back to cheer myself up.

T&L -

Give me a good L&D nurse anytime, and you can forget the doctor. With my second son, the doc was going out for dinner - all dressed up in a suit after they induced me. I told the nurse to let him know that I felt like I needed to take a dump - felt like a 10 pound bowling ball descending.

They were pushing me down the hall toward the delivery room, and my son was being born when the doc showed up still in his suit. I can't blame him for being slow since the whole thing was only 20 minutes, start to finish.

Hope all the men are gone for the day, maybe TMI.

All I can say about the doctor was he was present. I felt like paying the nurse the delivery fee.

Ok. Whew! Well, Christmas came early this year. AJ gave me a byootiful winter coat for my present, which I very much needed. (That would be why my Christmas came in November.) It was so sweet, and I am just delighted with it, and also that he was thinking of me this year.

To make it even better, last night he sent me a couple of ecards. (The kids 'helped' him pick them out while I sat right next to him at the computer - sound asleep.) I will try and link one of them to here, because it was so pretty, and very touching.

My Special Ecard

Now, don't we all feel better?

<img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> We can only hope! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/laugh.gif" alt="" /> Adversity builds character. Or so I've heard. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

I hear that every now and again, but as a system, it would never work. If nurses were reimbursed for the deliveries we do, no doctor would ever believe that we didn't call him too late on purpose, and deliver his patient ourselves, just for the extra money. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/crazy.gif" alt="" />

t&l

Having done it (almost exclusively) since 1969 certainly helps! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

t&l

I used to do babies all the time. In fact, at the hospital where I trained in OB, I had mama and baby both after delivery, which is not at all in line with the standard of care today. But that was a long time ago, and I've been spoiled over the last 15 years by the system at my hospital.

One delivery that I had back then--must be close to 25 years now--was very similar to yesterday's in many ways. She'd had Demerol and the baby was born with respiratory depression. However, the MD (a general practitioner who did only a few deliveries per year) was an idiot, which yesterday's doctor was not (just very, um, methodical). I never liked deliveries with him, because even though I was brand new at this I still always had the unsettling feeling that during deliveries, I was the skilled one in the room. That is NOT a good vibe for a nurse! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> Anyway, he delivers the baby, which is not breathing. It's limp, pale, blue...you know, the regular I'm-doing-my-very-best-to-die stuff. And instead of handing the baby to me, he holds it in his hands, with its arms and legs dangling and flopping on either side, and says as he jiggles it gently up and down, "Come on, little baby, breathe for Doctor. Breathe for Doctor, now. Come on, little baby." <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" />


I nearly had a stroke. Inside I was jumping up and down, screaming, "Give me Little Baby, you dumb nincompoop, and I'll make him breathe for Nurse!" <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/mad.gif" alt="" /> That one turned out OK, too, after I CALMLY <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> went over and got the baby and brought it back to the warmer to work on. But I don't like to do that any more. I'd rather take a labor patient and guide her gently through the turbulent waters around the shoals and reefs of labor, into the safe harbor of delivery. So to speak. That's what interests me. Not infant resuscitation. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" />

t&l

I am turning into the thread Eeyore. This is about the only place I can come and say in a gloomy voice, "Well, today was an improvement. At least the sky didn't fall in."

This really has been a long day. First this morning I had a really bad return to midst-of-A feelings, then a (former, though he doesn't know it) friend stopped by for his mail, we'll call him Gangle. I'm sure later I will give in to the temptation to complain about him at length, excuse me, vent, but the short version is that he now has 'associations' with Garg, is trying to cover it, but I can tell. So seeing him is almost as bad as seeing her, but he doesn't know that I know. (We pretty much ignore him and don't even think about him except for once in a while when he gets his mail, an arrangement that will end in the next week or two.) So I figured that as long as I was upset, I might as well take care of the money stuff, hopefully close to the last.

(Believer, you make a great case about adultery money, but even with the new stuff I didn't know about, the personal portion is down under $500. For that, it's worth it to remove the risk of a lawsuit. She would sue, I am convinced, even if he only owed a dime.)

As long as I am com- venting about this, let me share the first paragraph from the email I sent her. I was very proud of it.
LOL! In other words, if you want to lose that money along with the rest, feel free - I don't mind a bit!

So far this evening is going better than the rest of the day, but if things get to be too much, I'll make a cuppa hot chocolate, put on my new coat, and sit their sipping and stroking the faux fur rim on the hood. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/grin.gif" alt="" /> Ahhhhhh.

Thanks for bearing with me. One way or the other, we're almost to the end of this. December or January....

Whose sipping is it??? And why do you have to sit it down??? Will it stay while you stroke the faux fur on your coat???

Tc-c-c-c-ch. English teachers' granddaughters!!! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" /> <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif" alt="" />

t&l

It almost sounds like these anonymous "their"s are going to be the ones doing the stroking of the faux fur on the coat. Just what is your sister planning for this evening, anyway? Do you need a chaperone, Neak? <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/shocked.gif" alt="" /> I'm sure Neaksis could take time from her busy schedule of harrassed motherhood to come over to your house and sit in shocked, stiff disapproval of whatever it is you're describing! <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/eek.gif" alt="" /> How sad that I'm stuck here at work with a bunch of leaky women going nowhere fast, or I'd come and disapprove of you myself. <img src="/ubbt/images/graemlins/pfft.gif" alt="" />

t&l