1. My dad takes his lasix and digoxin religiously, but never takes his potassium.
2. My mom takes tylenol PM to sleep every night, even though she has no pain, just wants to sleep. I keep telling her plain benadryl will suffice, and she insists that tylenol PM works better.
3. My whole family abuses antibiotics. They take half courses. They save them for future use. They want them for stuffy noses. They want them in case their colds turns into an infection- just in case.
Specializes in NICU, PICU, PCVICU and peds oncology.
1. My dad, who has been treated for hypertension for about 30 years and who also has Type 2 diabetes, fell in the bathroom and hit his head (something he hadn't done in many years, since he quit binge-drinking). He can't remember what he was doing or feeling before the fall, he doesn't know what he hit his head on, and he doesn't know if he lost consciousness or not. My mother calls me and when my DH says I'm sleeping late she says, "Oh, okay. Let her know I called and that her dad fell and hit his head." "Do you want me to wake her up?" "No, she needs her sleep. Just tell her I called." So I find out TWO HOURS LATER and rush over to see what's up. He's got a 10 cm lac on the back of his head with a flap into which I can bury my index finger to the first knuckle and it's still oozing (low dose aspirin!). I tell him he needs stitches and get the usual... "I'm not getting any G-D stitches. Just patch it up for me." Mom starts telling me that she heard him fall and went to see what had happened and couldn't get the bathroom door open but she could hear him moving around and sort of grunting. I'm thinking he seized, but because she couldn't get the door open until several minutes later and he can't remember anything, it's only a guess. So I lecture him sternly and remind him that I'm paid a LOT of $$ for my expertise and my opinions, so let's go to the ER and get it checked out. No dice. So I did my darnedest to make sure it hurt as much as I could make it while I cleaned the cut and put on 176 steri-strips.
2. My mother self-diagnoses and takes Dad's meds because "they have the same thing". Dad has a hiatus hernia, Mom has ulcers and a gastric outlet obstruction.
3. DH has hypertension and Type 2 diabetes. Does he check his blood sugar? Oh no, because I managed to pull it down in the months after he was diagnosed by controlling his diet and helping him lose 25 pounds. So he's cured. The 25 pounds came back and brought 20 friends. Willie Wonka would be jealous of the stash he's got in the bottom drawer of his desk. Doritos for dinner, yum!
4. So DH goes for his military physical testing and they get him doing pushups. The rec spec corrects his form and he hurts his shoulder. He goes to the base hospital and they prescribe physio, give him a series of exercises and a handful of resistance bands. Fast forward a year, and his shoulder still hurts. "Are you still doing your physio?" I ask, knowing that he never did it at home ever. "Well no, they only wanted to see me for a few weeks." So he has a 15 cm irreparable rotator cuff tear. D'oh!
5. Oh and he uses cotton hankerchiefs to blow his nose... multiple times. Then he thinks it's okay to use it on our immunosuppressed transplant recipient son!
1. Save and hoard antibiotics. (You never know when you will get a bad cold.)
2. Grandmother tells everyone that walks into her hospital room- "This is my granddaughter. She is an RN!" sheesh! (Rest in peace, Grandma.)
3. Mother insists that I keep a hat on my kid's heads when temp is 70 degrees outside because she will get sick.
4.When I don't know what is causing your vague symptoms and advise you to see your doctor I am told, "you are supposed to know!!"
5. When DH had a case of the vomiting and diarrhea he insisted he was dying and I had no appreciation of how sick he really was. (To which I replied- "you have no idea just how sick you weren't". sorry.)
My favorite is when my mom will call me with a question related to something, like ortho or OB. Umm, mom, I was a CARDIAC nurse for 6 years and now work HOSPICE! My other favorite is when she calls and asks me a question about cardiac symptoms, tell her what I think and that she should call the doctor. Tells me, yeah that is what your aunt (also and RN) said too. So, why are you calling me if you already asked her? Oh, and BTW, she works for your cardiologist! DUH!
My mother-in-law will go to the doctor and then call me. I'll ask "what did the dr say?" her "everything is fine but they are going to do some tests" me "what are they doing?" her " uh i don't remember" me "Well what are they looking for" her "I don't know" This drives me nuts.
My brother told me that his spinal cord was severed. I told him that isnt possible if he is still walking and he tells me "I guess you think you know more than my doctor". He doesnt work and he hates the fact that I have a career and he doesnt. He likes to exaggerate his diagnosis to get a huge response from others.
My dad who is a diabetic and his HgA1C was 10! When he stops taking care of himself, he becomes verbally abusive and easily angered. I hate being around him when he's like that. He eats whatever/whenever he wants and then his mental status becomes irratic.
Specializes in med-surg, psych, ER, school nurse-CRNP.
1) When they call you and ask, "When someone has breast CA and they do lymph nodes, where do they start?" (I THINK she was referring to staging, but with her you never know)
"Ummmm, WHAT? Mom, I just graduated NP school, I have never done oncology in my life, I have no earthly."
"Well, when GM had hers done, they started on the outside of her underarm and went in. So, now, how do they do it."
"Mama, GM died when I was 7. I barely remember HER, let alone her surgery. I was not that interested in medicine then, either. I don't know."
And on and on it goes.
2)Mispronounce EVERYTHING. "No, Uncle Roy, Adderall and Atarax are not the same, nor are you allergic to Penicillum." It's a REALLY good thing I like word games, or we'd be in major trouble.
3)No, baby, I can NOT see you as an NP. It's not allowed. I can't see my parents, either. Why? Well, think, you might have something you don't want to tell me. Daddy might have hemmorrhoids that he does not want his daughter to see, etc.
4)And my very BIGGEST one.....no matter what I say, no matter what I back it up with, as a soon-to-be NP, my family takes my cousin's word, the OB RN, over mine EVERY BLESSED TIME. This is the one that cliamed that a WBC count of 11.4 was low. I proved her wrong with literature, they still believed her. I could be the Surgeon General, and they'd still take her word over mine. She made the comment that NPs could not give orders and that anyone that followed my orders would just be setting themselves up. I was fuming and all my own mother said was that she must not undestand the role of an NP. Hmph. If I had said that to HER, my name would be mud for the rest of my natural life.
Being an ultra health-conscious hippie vegetarian... and a smoker, but in total denial about the impact of smoking and "free love" on health.
I had a classmate like that. She was a self-righteous vegetarian who smoked like a chimney. She also totally distrusted western medicine, which made me wonder why she wanted to be an RN.
My sister and her husband both smoked like chimneys. However they are complusive label readers. A trip to store for 10 items takes an hour with them. I said "its a can of peas, the ingrdiants didn't change." They no longer eat any prepared sandwich meats 'because they have too many preservetives that cause cancer.' I always remind them that their 2 pack day habit will cause cancer long before a slice of ham does. My sister did quit, however her husband still smokes.
Both parents ate everything organic, fridge full of bottled spring water, but also smoked 60 a day each and spent the afternoons working their way through a bottle each of whisky and brandy.
My sister, who is morbidly obese and has gallbladder disease, hypertension and back problems to boot, keeps her nightstand drawer stocked with peanuts, Milk Duds and 24-oz. bottles of Pepsi.
"You know", I once told her, "You'd feel a WHOLE lot better, if you would at least try and lose some weight".
"Oh, I can't", was her reply. "I'm too stressed".
"Fine". I said. "It's your funeral".
"Why are you being so mean?", she wanted to know.
"Because you don't want to hear the truth," I replied.
She knew I was right.....as she reached for another box of Milk Duds.
Neither I or my family is greek, but they do believe that Vicks Vaporub can cure everything from earaches to headaches. I fear for the little kids in my family cause when I was little if I so much as sneezed around my aunts they would slather vicks all over my chest and under the nose. That stuff is helpful be stinky enough to keep away the best of friends. They would shove qtips with vicks into my ear trying to cure an earache, then have to run to the ED when my eardrum would burst. :imbar When I had an Asthma attack(the first of many left untreated, my grandmother would give me a spoonful of Cod Liver Oil/Honey (YUCK)and make me swallow, But I'd puke most of it. I recall wheezing for hours and feeling so dizzy and exhausted. (She almost killed me God Love Her).The strangest one is when a newbaby is born and the baby has colic. They dip a quarter in lard, place the lard laden quarter on the babies abdomen and sprinkle baking soda on the coin and wrap a cloth around the babys tummy and insist this concoction will relieve the colic. Of course the baby would toot/poop or burb since you massaged the tummy,Nor the concoction on the babies tummy. You would fart too if someone massaged your stomache. Stimulating peristalisis. But they refuse to believe that the lard, quarter and baking soda are useless to make a baby toot. ARGH!
I just try and give them some good teaching and look the other way since these traditions have been around so long, but apparently no babies were hurt in the making of these blunders, Gotta Luv Em!
This drives me nuts.
NotReady4PrimeTime, RN
5 Articles; 7,358 Posts
1. My dad, who has been treated for hypertension for about 30 years and who also has Type 2 diabetes, fell in the bathroom and hit his head (something he hadn't done in many years, since he quit binge-drinking). He can't remember what he was doing or feeling before the fall, he doesn't know what he hit his head on, and he doesn't know if he lost consciousness or not. My mother calls me and when my DH says I'm sleeping late she says, "Oh, okay. Let her know I called and that her dad fell and hit his head." "Do you want me to wake her up?" "No, she needs her sleep. Just tell her I called." So I find out TWO HOURS LATER and rush over to see what's up. He's got a 10 cm lac on the back of his head with a flap into which I can bury my index finger to the first knuckle and it's still oozing (low dose aspirin!). I tell him he needs stitches and get the usual... "I'm not getting any G-D stitches. Just patch it up for me." Mom starts telling me that she heard him fall and went to see what had happened and couldn't get the bathroom door open but she could hear him moving around and sort of grunting. I'm thinking he seized, but because she couldn't get the door open until several minutes later and he can't remember anything, it's only a guess. So I lecture him sternly and remind him that I'm paid a LOT of $$ for my expertise and my opinions, so let's go to the ER and get it checked out. No dice. So I did my darnedest to make sure it hurt as much as I could make it while I cleaned the cut and put on 176 steri-strips.
2. My mother self-diagnoses and takes Dad's meds because "they have the same thing". Dad has a hiatus hernia, Mom has ulcers and a gastric outlet obstruction.
3. DH has hypertension and Type 2 diabetes. Does he check his blood sugar? Oh no, because I managed to pull it down in the months after he was diagnosed by controlling his diet and helping him lose 25 pounds. So he's cured. The 25 pounds came back and brought 20 friends. Willie Wonka would be jealous of the stash he's got in the bottom drawer of his desk. Doritos for dinner, yum!
4. So DH goes for his military physical testing and they get him doing pushups. The rec spec corrects his form and he hurts his shoulder. He goes to the base hospital and they prescribe physio, give him a series of exercises and a handful of resistance bands. Fast forward a year, and his shoulder still hurts. "Are you still doing your physio?" I ask, knowing that he never did it at home ever. "Well no, they only wanted to see me for a few weeks." So he has a 15 cm irreparable rotator cuff tear. D'oh!
5. Oh and he uses cotton hankerchiefs to blow his nose... multiple times. Then he thinks it's okay to use it on our immunosuppressed transplant recipient son!