3ringnursing

When I was 27 years old, and several months into being a new grad I enrolled in the CANDO school of hard knocks (Chemically Addicted Nurses Diversion Option, although now it is called Alternative To Discipline: ATD) having signed my life away to the SBON in October 1994 for the privilege of continuing to practice nursing. In the early 90's the average person had no home computer (and I never was fluent in DOS anyway) or cellphones - we just barely had caller ID then, but what little technology we did have enabled me to create a special ring for Sonora Quest labs so I knew if they called me randomly (typically way too early for someone who might have a day off once in a while and decided to put it to good use sleeping in for a change) instead of work asking me to come in due to a call off by a coworker. We did everything in pen and paper format back then and sweated it all - but it wasn't nearly half as intense nor as expensive as it now seems for a nurse in recovery from what I am reading here and from others on this site. I started every week day morning after 0600 by calling the lab waiting for the color blue as the color of the day so I could pay $50.00 I didn't have to pee in a cup. You had until 1700 - and woe to you if you missed it. What I do remember are not happy memories: having this supervisor or that head of a nurse recovery meeting signing my forms and feeling like a child mailing them in to the SBON every month. Getting calls from Sonora Quest for a random drop while at work as I struggled to set up for a swan ganz catheter, or monitor a balloon pump while juggling to keep my patient load afloat - who would agree to watch my patients while I was gone for a monitored pee? Worrying, because starving I ate the last muffin left (poppy seed) at work and would it come up positive for opiates in my UDS? Missing My 10 year wedding anniversary to be at state board mandated recovery therapy. My husband telling reprobate me how I screwed up royal (as if I didn't know that). Going to therapy in a group and telling my story to strangers in sessions as well as people at work because no hiding it allowed - acting the part of being contrite and meaning it, for I was "bad" and seeking redemption. Oh yeah ... Fun times. Don't get me wrong - I wasn't innocent, and those drugs didn't divert themselves, but I had my reasons as we all do. The untimely death of my mother hit me in a big way, like a nuclear bomb detonating in my lap, so I felt pretty lucky to still be alive too when the **** didn't so much as hit the fan, but bury it. Still, I wasn't blameless, and I then had the price to pay, XXX XXXXXX. I spent 3 years of my life under the microscope, but it felt like 100. They didn't want to grant me stepdown, but they did. And when my time was up they hemmed and hawed about letting me go - but they had no choice, and let me go they did. I had toed every line - crossed single every T, and dotted every last I. It wasn't actually a victory for me - I viewed it as more of a draw on both sides. Then I slipped away into obscurity for good, swearing an unbreakable oath to myself that they would never, ever have me to toy with again. 23 years later after "graduating" from CANDO (this month in fact) I have since avoided further scrutiny from the SBON, and I am careful, so very, very careful - because that is what it taught us all and what I learned to be (and if nothing else I was cultivated to be a diligent student). I am outwardly the blandest of the bland - if I were a spice I'd be air. No one gives boring me even a second glance any more, or guesses what wild, sordid history my past entails because it was not documented for anyone else to see once I finished because that part is true. My file is likely buried in a box in some obscure warehouse along side the Arc of the Covenant and that is just fine by me. My long winded point? There is a light at the end of the tunnel that is not a train acomin'. There is an end eventually and once you reach it you are free. Financially poorer - true, but infinitely wiser. You will get there, and eventually you will cheer someone else on to reach that damn finish line.

I had also married a narcissist, and he gradually controlled every aspect of my life. As a new grad if I came home late from work due to the myriad of things that can happen in bedside nursing (a code, a late admit, or just being behind in charting) I was obviously with someone else. I eventually discovered he had been recording my phone calls for nearly 2 years - he proudly told me, "I've been inside your head for years". He threatened he would sue me for custody of our son and for child support if I dare left him (he also threatened he would "get me into trouble" with the SBON, that I would never work as a nurse again). My self esteem was rock bottom and I lived in constant fear. I felt trapped but had no where to go. Finally getting away with my baby was the hardest thing I've ever done - I continued to look over my shoulder for years afterward, and wake in fear from small noises in the night. Ruby Vee, from one survivor (and crusty old bat) to another you have my sincerest respect. Hugs from afar my friend from a kindered spirit.

I have an autoimmune disease and I am pharmacologically immunosuppressed to help keep my symptoms under control, so I have an unbreakable no touching rule. I don't shake hands, I don't hug outside of my immediate family, and I avoid even small crowds during flu season (such as those pesky monthly mandatory staff meetings for those of us who work from home). You don't have to give anyone a reason why you prefer not to be touched. It's your body and your rules. Anyone getting close enough for unwelcome touch is invading your personal space.

Boy do I know a few that fit neatly into all of those categories and never got what they deserved back in the day. Glad to know many are now being held accountable for letting their ego monsters out of the closet to maul the general populous. Not sure why bad behavior was ever tolerated to begin with when all of us learned manners in preschool.

It WAS pretty funny. As I tend to be rather childish in my humor too I made a mental note of what constitutes a toe nearing the line, and actually running past the line. He was a really nice guy and a great nurse though.

Excessive pranks. I knew a really nice, funny guy who was an RN on the cardiac floor of a small, sinking hospital I worked at about 20 years ago - he was always doing outrageous things just for a laugh. One day he came down stairs to the ICU and told a couple of us to pay attention in about a half hour. We had a paging operator at this hospital that had honest to God voice training lessons for the time of old Hollywood movies and it sounded like you were transported back in time the 1940's Hollywood. Suddenly her voice came over the hospital wide paging system to page Dr. Jack Mehoff. Oh boy. The investigation was quick and punishment swift. As if they couldn't tell which extension the call came from. On a side note a neurosurgeon who was at the ICU writing orders turned around grinning, claiming it was an old airport prank. Poor guy just didn't know when to stop.

Some people are very disturbed privately and are adept in hiding it for a length of time - it just flies under the radar it until their weird comes exploding out of the closet in full spectrum Technicolor vibrancy. Afterward people wonder how they missed it in the first place, but Dave Mustaine sums it up in a nutshell: "Hindsight is always 20/20".

I work with a gentleman who calls in often with "a touch of something" . Hmmm ... that sounds legitimate. The rest of us don't look forward to be pounded into the dirt the numerous times this happens, and it has caused a lot of resentment amongst the rest of the staff that shows up to work when scheduled.

Another shift done in the life of a nurse (what do mean I'm on RIGHT NOW for mandatory over time???).

No worries Ruby Vee, I take no offense. You are very cool and I enjoy reading your thoughts. And I can see how I could have worded that better for clarity.

I never said I was "young and pretty", but I will readily admit I had been young (then) and very clinically inexperienced. What I actually said: "She hated that I had the ability to assign her daily work tasks, hated that I was young, and pretty much just seemed to hate me on general principle (she seemed to have no problem with me when I was a PCT working under her supervision before I graduated). I don't understand to this day why she suddenly seemed to despise my very existence without provocation, but hated me she did. Vehemently.". I didn't actually use the word bullying, it was more in the form of passive-aggressive and stealth attack. And it was definitely personal enough that it was noticed - least of all by the nurse manager, and she had been warned to stop (she continued in what she hoped was a less noticeable way and was written up - and I got the heck out of dodge). I am now old - and still not pretty. I believe I had been resented simply due to a change in job title, inexperience coupled with a young age by one person. Looking back I think she felt I had no right to give her assignments due to her years of experience and my lack there of, when she had previously given me my assignments for nearly 3 years. this unfortunate situation had nothing to do with believing I was then pretty, although in all fairness this similarly crusty old bat can definitely see that if what I wrote was read quickly enough that my intent could have been misconstrued that way.

I believe many of us may have experienced feeling uncomfortable, or in some way emotionally threatened in various degrees in the work place at one time or another. Does it qualify as bullying to everyone who may objectively look at the particulars? Maybe? Does it feel good experiencing when it does happen? Not. At. All. During my very first nursing job as a new grad RN at the largest teaching hospital in town I was harassed by an LPN that didn't like that I was no longer a PCT, but now an RN with no experience - and designated team leader when we were paired together. She hated that I had the ability to assign her daily work tasks, hated that I was young, and pretty much just seemed to hate me on general principle (she seemed to have no problem with me when I was a PCT working under her supervision before I graduated). I don't understand to this day why she suddenly seemed to despise my very existence without provocation, but hated me she did. Vehemently. She threw away the pictures I had on my clip board of my newborn baby (a staff member witnessed her tearing the pictures off and tossing them into the trash can, then pulled me aside to enlighten me to the actual fate of those pictures), refused to help me in the work of our team of patients that I asked of her, and had said some truly vile things about me behind my back to some of the interns and residents - a few of whom had gleefully enlightened me about the things she had said - in detail (although I'd honestly rather not have known). She also wrote inflammatory comments about me on our unit's bathroom walls (sadly for her the nurse manager recognized her handwriting, and she was written up). My mother had died not long after I graduated, and that alone was devastating. I had also just had a baby, and then started work as a new grad not long afterward. The emotional abuse and distress I endured as a result was distracting and mean spirited. Even without her attentions I struggled in a daily basis, and her apparent vendetta made everything so much worse ... for months. Did it qualify as bullying behavior? I thought so, although not everyone may agree. I ended up leaving within 6 months, finally accepting another job. I was ready for anything that wasn't the hell I had been living through at the time (To date - 25 years later in December - I've never experienced the level of distress, anxiety, or fear I encountered back then). This person did everything she could think of to make me not want to be at work, so I left. I never looked back, and things only got better afterwards. I don't regret leaving - not even for even a second. My advice, be that as it may, is to pick your battles - there are some you just can't win overtly. Some people are fanatics - they are convinced their lives would be okay if you weren't there. It doesn't even have to make sense, but if someone is devious enough they will make your life miserable. Fighting that is sometimes a waste of energy given the paper trail required to can someone nowadays, as the proof of misconduct always lies with the person experiencing the torment. Some people are unkind no matter where you work, or what your occupation is. I can't in good conscience say blow it off because if someone wants you gone and is prepared to go to any means necessary to make sure that happens, then I see that as a hostile work environment. Do what you must for peace of mind, but in my opinion no job is worth your sanity or wellbeing. I left, and I advise you the same course of action. Find a place you love that loves you back. At the end of the day your complete happiness is all that really matters.

That nearly every nursing job I've had has been a circus.

OMG. Girl, welcome to nursing - under appreciated and at times psychologically abusive ("Thank you sir, may I have another?" - if you have no idea what this means watch the movie Animal House). No, you are not being a unreasonable, this is designed to make you feel bad for standing up for yourself, which you have every right to do, and did it appropriately as far as I can see. You may be enlightened to discover many management positions are reimbursed at the end of the year for operating under budget - which means you and your co-workers pain means bonus money to someone else. Perhaps going elsewhere is in your best interest (i.e., Leave!).

I was approaching 30 during nursing school and had no children yet, so I timed my pregnancy to be able to deliver after graduation. My EGA was approximately 7 months when I graduated, and I was 2 weeks from my due date when I sat for my state boards (the last pencil and paper exam, traveling 200 miles away to the state capital). I was completely ignorant beforehand of how draining pregnancy would be. After my son was born I took 6 weeks off for maternity leave, then started work as a new grad. Early one memorable morning towards the end of my shift - just before the butt-crack of dawn was peaking over the horizon - I encountered a few gray faced, very rumpled and exhausted looking interns drinking coffee with my breast milk in it, as dietary was late restocking unit supplies on this day (our breakroom fridge had been out of commission at the time, so I had no choice but to store it on the unit in the fridge where we kept our stock of patient snacks). To say I was initially too stunned to speak didn't even begin to cover my shock at that moment. And because I was I tired and cranky - with the milk I pumped during my 12 hour shift now contaminated, having sat out on the counter for God knows how long, I took great pleasure enlightening them about the origin of their choice of coffee condiment. All but one of them spat it out into the sink looking rather green, but one continued drinking his coffee unperturbed in the least. Afterward I felt a tad bit guilty as they were a pathetic looking bunch, appearing like they hadn't slept in days, guzzling that coffee down like it was the elixir of life itself. But since I now going home empty handed to a hungry, squalling infant with only limited surplus milk on hand my sympathy was somewhat limited. I had worked as a PCT at that same hospital for 3 years before I graduated and I wrongly assumed I'd seen everything - apparently not.

I worked for the largest medical center in town when I was a new grad. They had a staffing office that called everyday I was off and I swear they must have had algorithms of what to say if you said no. No ride? We'll send a cab. No childcare? We have a daycare option. Your busy? How about a later shift then. This was in the days before caller ID (before cellphones and home computers) so you had to answer the phone to know who was calling (then again none of my friends called at 5 am either). It went on all day long. Eventually I stopped answering the phone altogether. I felt bad but they certainly didn't.

it was not until 2014 (when I began working my present job in telephone triage) that I learned EMS had the autonomy to chose NOT to transport a patient to the ER for whom assistance had been called (even if the patient wants to go). Say what??? * * * * * Incidently, in 1995 a patient on our unit (the mother of one of our CNA's) became unresponsive around 0030 - as charge nurse for the unit I called a code. We were actually a separate entity from the hospital we were occupying the two upper floors of, which was a DO specialty hospital and on it's last "legs" prior to closure of the facility. When the code team for this hospital arrived to our floor in the patient's room the team provider asked me WHY I had called a code? After all the patient still had spontaneous breathing and heart rate. Gee I don't know, but it seemed prudent to do so for a suddenly unresponsive patient whom had been AAO x 4 only minutes previously ... this patient never regained consciousness, and didn't live long enough to last to the end of the shift. The patient's daughter was naturally devastated when she discovered her mom had passed away so suddenly - and it had happened on MY watch (although this wasn't actually technically my patient, I figured they were ALL my patient's when I am charge nurse). I have no regrets to this day about calling that code, and I know you were right to call EMS for your student too. The only regrets I might have had pertaining to that night would have arisen from had I NOT chosen to request immediate help at all. It doesn't take long for a previously responsive patient to circle the drain and code - I don't think waiting for a lack of spontaneous breathing and HR is appropriate, especially if your nurse "spidey sense" has already flared. Good job nurse!

Very cute vids!

8675309 ... Jenny

Our organization gives bonuses (provided you are in good standing, do all your annual continuing education, and can juggle flaming torches with your feet) depending upon some algorithm of reimbursement our organization is able to finagle at the end of the year. It's always a different amount and an odd number - it is heavily taxed, but to be honest I've never had one any where else and I am super grateful to get it. But then again, our organization also finds creative ways to be maniacally ungenerous in other ways so in the end it probably pan's out to be the same had I worked elsewhere.

What a frightening way to die. I've been in plenty of unsafe work situations where the pressure to "just do it" was a very real expectation, along with insanely unrealistic workloads. In that setting things can quickly spin out of control where suddenly you realize to your horror things have now gone sideways. Every nursing job I've ever resigned from was because of very real danger to patients and myself. It is much more common than than I'd ever thought possible.

Not sleeping and driving the distance you have to go is a recipe for disaster (that is even before you actually arrive at work, then have to make the commute home again). Being reliable is so important on job, but then again placing one's life in jeopardy by driving in a lack of sleep fugue (as well as all those innocent souls driving on the road too) not to mention being technically unfit for duty due to being intoxicated by sleep deprivation, it seems like a moot point. Safety first. "First do no harm" (there is nothing wrong with loving yourself too).

Congratulations for your huge achievement!

I'm not sure if this old information (I am old) a state by state thing, or not ... this happened to me about 20 years ago when I the unlucky recipient of being the charge nurse who also had 2 ICU patients (that was the way our unit did it). We had a night call in and the unit manager marched up to me at 1500 to inform me I was doing a double shift (24 hrs total - We had been going through a unit manager about every 3 months at that point). I sat in stunned silence seething. I thought about it for about 15 minutes, then walked over to her and the house supervisor who were sitting together by the unit clerk desk deep in hushed discussion, and said this: "You can only retain me for 1 hour after my shift ends and no more. Make other arrangements". Was this true? At the time (1999) I believed it to be true - and so did they. An hour later I was informed that an agency nurse was coming in to work - she happily told me during report she was making triple time that night (I would have gladly paid triple time to just be allowed to leave when my 12.5 hrs ended). Perhaps consulting your SBON would be a very much worth the time invested. That is lame my friend.

I had to do the same and wait for a snail mail letter before most people had internet, and cell phones were for the very rich (back when physicians used palm pilots - I bet you're too young to remember those). I think everyone will have that coming, or should expect it. Congratulations for hitting the finish line! These programs are not for sissies, and we all get some true grit from towing the line to the bitter end.