Ninapintasantamaria's Blog

{December 2, 2010}   Nothing is happening.

My life is boring. I work all the time, I clean when I have the energy, I watch my son get into everything he can get his hands on while brushing off the dog hair he accumulates at the babysitter’s. I have a puppy instead of a little boy. This is my life. (I’m never going to get away from dogs, am I.) So, this week has been trying for little ole me’s patience. I’ve had to work with my OR husband (who drives me just as nuts as my official one, I’d kill him if we actually had to work together.) who thinks it’s funny to throw stuff in the floor for me to pick up (Yes, I have to, it’s a safety hazard, namely for me.), throws trash in my sponge bucket (we have to count sponges to make sure we leave with the same number we got there with, and it’s real easy for sponges to get wrapped up in trash and get thrown out thereby causing the patient an unnecessary x-ray), and generally goes out of his way to irk the hell out of me. I dropped more than a few f-bombs that day. Also, he and the first assistant in the room were treating me like it was my first day. “Nina, go see the patient!” Already done. “Nina, mix your meds!” Also already done, just waiting for you to get your lazy ass in there and set the table up so I can give them to you. “Nina, go get started on your paperwork!” Really? I can have the paperwork done within 10 minutes of starting the case. So, if you like, I can go sit on my ass and do a crossword puzzle while you two bust ass and get this room ready for the case, but that’s not how I generally like to do things. I actually work when I come here, so how ’bout you let me in on what your “master plan” is, and we’ll get it done that much faster, eh? Seriously, these guys acted like I’d never been in an OR before. The next day, I walked into a room to give a lunch and it was like a chinese fire drill in there! (Am I allowed to say that anymore? I’d hate to think I was being offensive, that’s just the expression I’ve always heard. Maybe I shouldn’t use it anymore. Onwards.) When she finally left to eat, I had the drugs given, the charting done, the room organized all within approximately, oh, say, 7 minutes. My job is stressful sometimes, but really? Not that demanding, thought-wise. You just have to plan ahead and learn the preferences of the surgeon and try to meld them with what’s right for the patient, but that’s another story. I don’t understand this concept of running a room that no one can hear themselves think in, but whatever. Yesterday, I had to contend with a moody, pregnant scrub nurse who was cranky that I opened up the case supplies (yes, they get this petty) and she wanted a break. I apologized, and offered to sit in the room while she took her break, but she was pissy the whole day. Then the CRNA wanted to be all commando and wouldn’t listen, treated me like her maid (‘Nina could you plug this in for me? I can’t reach it.’ She was sitting in a chair with her legs crossed.), got pissy when I called the anesthesiologist (which we’re required to do)before she expressly gave me permission, then when I tried to help her hook up her monitors she acted like I was an idiot and actually took it away from me! I do not feel the need to help her anymore. I refused to call on the next case, and I got my paperwork done while the patient was going to sleep. Her bossy, bitchy ass can call her own damn doc over the walkie-talkie! So there.

et cetera