Dear floor nurse,
You and I - we used to get along real well, back when I had a 16 hour limit on the number of consecutive hours I could be in the hospital. We laughed together, we shared the occasional moment. We even discussed work related issues. Life was good. But now? Not so much. Let's face it. Our relationship is not what it used to be. I'd like to be the noble person here and say it's not you, it's me....but come on, let's not fool ourselves. It's really just you.
Look. I'm not saying you're a bad person. It's not that at all. It's just...you're not a good person and frankly, you're not that bright. We ALL can't be the sharpest tool in the shed, eh?
You know I have 60 odd patients on my service; you know I have to cover the ICU, the step down unit, the floor, all consults AND the ER, right? So why do you call right when I am in the middle of placing an EVD, sterile, and unable to answer the phone without someone placing it to my ear, and immediately launch into a long spiel about the most non-urgent matter, without even giving any identifying patient information, until I realize that the person of whom you speak is not even my patient?
I realize your three patients must consume a tremendous amount of your time. I know you are overwhelmed because your scheduled two hour breaks are not enough down time during your third 12hr shift of the week, but....do you do this deliberately? To antagonize me? To make my blood pressure rise when your third consecutive phone call comes in and I am praying there is not a ruptured aneurysm on the other end of the line? Do you like to torment me?
And what about that sweet moment, when I finally have half an hour to myself and I can lay down and drift to sleep, and you call me with a NORMAL lab result? What can I do besides mutter "Thank you for letting me know" and hang up? God only knows. Another thing - when I am at the chart, looking through a patient's vitals...is there a sign above my head that says "You must now update me on every single patient issue from their bowel habits to the breed of their son's dog"? Do you realize that once I hear your concerns I HAVE to address them? Do you know that this causes my adrenal gland to pour out cortisol? Do you know that I am stabbing you in the eye, in my head?
I am trying to make this relationship work. I really am. Right now, though, I think the prognosis is poor. We might have to have a talk soon.
Sincerely,
Your resident physician.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
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