You fucked up, you REALLY fucked up.

FUCK YOU BRN-NOW YOU HAVE SOMETHING BETTER TO DO THEN HARASS NURSES WHO HAD ONE TOO MANY WINE SPRITZERS.

HOW ABOUT CHANGING NOT JUST WHAT NURSES DO BUT WHAT OUTSIDE FORCES DO TO NURSES?


Man I wish the media would come up with a better tag line than "due to the ever increasing nursing shortage this hospital now has...."

From there we fill in the blanks: "Due to the ever increasing nursing shrtage this local hospital has..."

• Happy go-lucky MALE NURSE perverts working for them.


• Drug stealing junkieusers working for them.


• Shameless overpaid nurses on overtime falling asleep on the job recklessly killing patients and laughing all the way to the bank.


• A male nurse who molested every single female who came into the 500 bed hospital and managed to used the prolapsed anus of a 90 year old woman as a cigarette holder for him while he peed on her dog as he was insanely high the very last pills of ambien and colace she had,etc.

It's never real shit like: nurses don't get breaks anymore, management harasses R.N.'s who have a conscience, nurses seem to be making LESS money despite this incredible shortage...

As a R.N. I see nurses everyday who shouldn't be practicing in a perfect world. Some because of their atrocious attitude towards patients (burn outs), others with obvious mental problems who probably wouldn't be safe to handle fries at Burger King (related to traumatization and abuse on the job), and some who simply came to this country to make more money then they could in their home country. (sorry Pinoy but 6 out of 7 of you guys do a disproportionately large amount of the fucked up shit I see. Your ambivalence towards human care is as horrifying as it is somehow culturally ingrained)
There is no nursing shortage in the U.S. That's nonsense propaganda created by hospitals to get cheaper foreign labor. Only hospitals that are so hellish in their treatment of nursing staff have staffing problems and experience a "shortage".
The AMA and hospital associations have enabled tens of thousands of nurses to come to this country from other countries for the sole purpose of making money on cheaper, more obedient labor. These nurses not only leave their home countries in a void of health care but also leave American R.N.'s to take up the slack. At least four of my coworkers don't speak English adequately enough to carry a conversation but know how to perform medical tasks. Some were able to take the licensing exam in their native language. I am constantly covering their butts just to make it through the shift. If I were to complain I would lose my job, union or not. I would be called a racist. A hundred years ago they would have called me a "nationalist" but nobody knows what that word means anymore.

Nursing is an unbelievably complex job that is constantly being put down by media, hospital administration and physicians. So many nurses have drug problems because the people who take care of you HAVE ABSOLUTELY NOBODY TAKING CARE OF THEM.
The article that led to 6 out of 7 BRN members getting tossed on their ass demonstrates how absolutely crucial the job the R.N. performs is.
The effectiveness of the BRN is severely limited because the BRN is inundated with three types of complaints: 1) My nurse doesn't speak English. 2) Hospital managements lodging erroneous complaints against nurses in retaliation for sticking for themselves and their patients. 3) Complaints filed by hospital management to cover up mistakes of arrogant physicians.

The largest reason the BRN sucks is because its staffed with hacks and non-nurses. Go figure! Political payback is tasty.

Nursing practice has changed so much in 20 years- the job that older nurses were trained to do simply doesn't exist anymore, nursing is truly not "nursing" as people know it. It is an incredibly complex, demanding, and intensely challenging job that requires dedication and- the nursing profession still doesn't recognize this- it requires talent.

Nurses are treated so poorly by physicians, hospital management, and most certainly the patients that they treat that a dangerous nurse is easily overlooked because everyone walks around in the medical field thinking "another dumb nurse did this".
True bad eggs like the ones in the article would be cracked and disposed of more quickly if quality nurses were recognized, and nurses who have no business being in the field were rooted out.
Bad nurses get away with it because, frankly, it seems that the public is quite happy with the stereotype of nurses being angelic, mothering, brainless assistants.
I don't think the public or the media comprehends the importance of the nurse in the disease and healing process from a technical and clinical standpoint. At all.

Right now, bad nurses run the show. The pathological liars, the borderline personality disorder bullies, the perpetually immature 14 year old girls breaking hospital units down into clique war zones. Right now, everything that is wrong about nursing rules the roost. Nobody complains about anything that means a fucking thing. Nothing about patient care, nothing about pay, nothing about safety, nothing about the blatantly redundant paperwork. Everyone feels like they can't change it so on Tuesday lets gang up on Tina and whisper behind her back and start some shit. Then we'll complain that she was mean to her patient, "no it's true, she was soooo mean to her patient cuz I was on like priceride.com getting a hotel room for vegas so I like heard everything..."

Oh well, tonight I sleep good. For the first time in many moons, the nursing gods have hurled in some political 18guages that pull blood out like central lines.

One thing Leads to Another

One thing led to another, that day in the late afternoons of early summer. Holding hands on an unchaperoned date led to heavy petting which then led to some very heavy anal sex.

That little toke off that marijuana cigarette led to IV heroin with dirty needles. Like shooting hoops on the city court with some friends leads to the Lakers winning ANOTHER goddamn championship (along that plump vein- a team winning a championship leads to numerous cars getting rocked off their fucking shocks and stores burned wide open). Billy shooting a pistol at the Beverly Hills Gun Club leads to Arnie "Ahmadinejad" Iran posessing nuclear weapons. Like sending your kids to college leads to Bernie Madoff, like telling your Mom your love her leads to homosexuality if yur a dude, lesbianism if you're a chick and it's yur dad. One thing leads to another. One small thing leads to the motherfuck of all things.

Pre-WWII German's wanted government subsidized healthcare and ended up with six million jews dead, 3 million of them doctors so that fucked that whole thing.

An enthusiastic go-getter of a Jedi, Anakin Skywalker, thought he was being passed up for promotion too often so he turned into Darth Vader.

It's a scary fucking world.

A few weeks ago a pharmacy tech at Long Beach Memorial Hospital in Long Beach California killed two employees (both of whom were his managers). I used to work at that hospital and I knew that man. Not well, but it was he who handed me my first few bottles of legal speed, Adderall. One pill of Adderall leads to a blog called licensed2 ill.

Management at Long Beach Memorial is positively viscious. Disgusting. What did it take for him to snap? How much dignity did they make him dole out in handfulls before he found out that they were going to ditch his already overworked ass. One thing leads to: BOOM!

Last night my patient was an 88 year old man. Shortness of breath leads to intubation> leads to sepsis> Leads to ARDS> Leads to sedation with fentanyl and versed>leads to levophed> leads to CPR> leads to death.

But lets back up. This 88 year old man happened to be one of house anesthesiologist's father.

Here's the kicker: She wanted everything done to her pop possible to save his life despite the fact he was a DNR. Do Not Fucking resuscitate Under Any Goddamn Circumstance unless you want to lose your license, get sued, go to jail. But when push came to shove, and even though the old man had the DNR because he saw his wife go the same way a few years ago and a) couldn't live without her and b) didn't want the same treatment. But when the time came and death grabbed the old man by the ballz the daughter, Dr. anesthesiologist did what she could only do in a moment of grief. Jump in and intubate his demented ass. (He may have dementia as well no one knows). Fuck me.

Here's the other kicker. The two pronged double kicker: She is an anesthesiologist-the stoner of medical specialties-she orders no sedation, no pain meds, nothing to make him more comfortable. Father is totally on ventilator, restrained, cannot move shitting in bed with not a single opiate or benzo for his ass. For those of you who don't work in the field, being awake on a ventilator has got to be one of the most hellish and violent experiences a human being could go through. A machine tells you when to inspire and expire, every hour some dipshit like me is sticking a tube deep inside your lungs to suck the mucus out. It is excruciating. But no pain meds. Per her strictest orders.

So at 0400, after asking him 20 times all night if he was in pain, each time he said yes, each time I asked him if he wanted pain meds he said no, I said is it because of your daughter he said yes, I said does it feel good when I have to reposition you every two hours he shook his head no. Enough.

Enough. I could help but feel in my heart to the it of my gut, my son, my two year old in thirty forty years making this decision. Me old, sick, dying in bed. My life, my youth robbed from me by the same clock that has taken it away from all others. A selfish scary view of mortality that keeps knocking me upside the head, more and more lately. Enough. MY sweet boy. Her father. His age, his eyes, they looked like the anesthesiologist's eyes, his nodding and shaking his head. MY job. My license, my beautiful wife. Her body is still young, so is mine I guess, HOW LONG HAVE WE GOT?

But here's the second part of the kicker: He came in filthy with bed sores all over his body. He was being neglected at home. He had over nine documentable wounds - wounds severe enough we had to document them with pictures on his 88 year old body WHY KEEP HIM ALIVE WITHOUT PAIN MEDS? Enough. I called the intern. Gimme morphine for the old man. Hell no the intern said, it was his ass. Give him tylenol intern tells me. Fuck you Brian. I gave him tylenol. It didn't do shit. Silence. 2mg of morphine slow as fuck. Thank you. Done. I gave it like sloe gin joe. He slept for the first time in days.

Jesus on vent, nailed to the Hill-ROM ICU bed with nothing for pain or sedation. The next day he did so well on his CPAP trials he was extubated.

How did his daughter know? How sick is it she knew the drugs of her own trade, given in our protocol doses would have killed him, kept him from getting better.

How did she know there was a lonely isolated male nurse taking care of him who eased his own futuristic uneasiness by medicating her pop. Whatever. That's the second time I've seen a train wreck come back when the physician parent declares a "no opiate rule no matter what" with the patient and a miraculous recovery is scored with in days. Like going from your deathbed to cooking breakfast for every nurse in the ICU.

God there is so much I don't know, like waking from the nightmare in a room with your eyes open but its still too dark to see.

Like Ben n' Jerry's Cherry Garcia leads to morbid obesity.

Like depression and burnout lead to apathy and disgust.

(I know the holocaust joke is a bit much but goddamn it people- the shit I see- thie shit I see)

AMA makes me go AMA (aint got nothin' on me)

http://www.ama-assn.org/amednews/2009/06/08/prl10608.htm

I posted this response on allshmurses.com. The AMA is pissed that the new nursing doctorate program exit exams are touted to be as challenging as the third level of USMLE. Seems MD's are worried that these fake doctor's will obtain REAL doctorates, then call themselves doctors and thus will give physicians a bad name by providing excellent care, actually listening to the patients, and actually giving a shit. Outrageous.

This is a long post- my posts always are- that's how I roll- but I'll end the argument right here.

This one is important. I think the DNP is waaaay ahead of itself. Certified nurse specialists are hardly recognized. I work on the floor with N.P.'s who are kicking themselves because the payoff for 20K to 40K in loans and two more years of time and effort has been NOTHING. Having a BSN's doesn't guarantee diddley squat professionally, either. I don't think R.N.'s need a doctorate to prove their worth. It's like an industry wide lack of self esteem. The ability and potential of a minority of educated and motivated nurses is like medicine's dirty little secret.

"Medicine decries nurse doctorate exam being touted as equal to physician". Uhhhh-so what if it is? There are many different kind of nurses. Many different kind of doctors. Lawyers. Sales people. Pool cleaners. Judges. Some people in their chosen profession choose to take it as far as they can. YOU WANT TO ENCOURAGE THESE PEOPLE. Some nurses I wouldn't even let take care of my pet turtle. Same goes for everything. So what if the exam is equal to the USMLE?

Whenever I talk about my job people ask me if I'm a doctor. I proudly tell them "no, I'm a R.N."- I usually get a quizzical look implying the person asking the question thinks that if I'm not a M.D. I must hang around slinging bed pans all day, their look clearly says: "Why is this guy talking about HIS patient like he makes decisions about their care?" So I politely explain that M.D.'s make disease diagnosis and are in charge of plotting a course of treatment for the patient. I explain that is is my job to not only understand the course chosen for treatment- but I am the one who institutes the treatment and I manage it's physical run. Yes, doctor's prescribe medications and order diagnostics. But in my I.C.U. they sure as heck don't give medication. I start the I.V. I give the medications, I assess the patient and if anything goes wrong I need to catch it before it happens and give the doc a heads up so they can re-plot the course of treatment. If this is not true then why do I need to have a license? Why am I held accountable for an adverse reaction to treatment or a change in patient status?

Last night- I admitted a patient from the E.R. with a primary diagnosis of pneumonia, c/o chest pain-with an extensive cardiac history. The cardiologist who ordered the admit had full privileges at my hospital as he was standing in for an intensivist who had a family emergency. The cardiologist was responsible for the admit and all other standing orders. Other than the insurance the patient had, the cardiac history, and the fact that the patient had received nitro and morphine in the E.R. the cardiologist didn't know anything abut the patient OR WHAT TO DO WITH HIM. He had no clue how to address the possible pneumonia and or sepsis. (Apparently he hadn't heard of Joint Commission)

So I walked the cardiologist though activity, diet, fluid type and rate, antibiotic regimen and all other diagnostic procedures to rule out sepsis. I wrote the "orders" as I gave them with his consent. Apparently the patient had thrown up in the E.R.- I asked for an anti-emetic-all I heard on the phone was,"uhhhhh" So I suggested a medication with rate and frequency. I asked him for cardiac parameters. The cardiologist asked me how the patient looked. I gave him my the results of my cardiac and pulmonary assessment. He thanked me profusely, gave parameters, and kept apologizing that he was just moonlighting, he hadn't done this in a while.

He asked me for my interpretation of the chest xray.

I told him "Sorry, out of my scope." But I had seen bilateral infiltrates in lower lobes when I read it. So I again encouraged that we follow the sepsis protocol. No problem. It was nice that he was pleasant. But when push comes to shove-yeah, M.D.'s don't find the R.N.s so incapable after all. And then I began the paperwork.

Later that night, the attending came by and said, "Wow! Dr.--- can still write ICU orders like he works here everyday." I'm not a doctor. I sure as heck don't know as much as one. But how much education combined with clinical experience do I need to know as much as one? No doubt, a lot. As a brand new nurse I got chewed out by the attending physician right along with the interns and residents for flubs that we all should have caught.

You see, it's role reversal, plain and simple-without the exchange of authority. I want to learn more about the disease and cures while many of those interns, now residents, want to develop their bedside manner. Seems the smart ones have figured out that it increases the odds of a better outcome to be able to communicate with one's patient. Nurses learn this immediately. Some doc's never get it, or care to. In my opinion, they are the ones who are doing the most damage to physician's. Not a DNP. It appears that the few nurses who choose to pursue advance training, pushing the envelope of our assigned role is clearly terrifying to M.D.s. Perhaps a bit of "man behind the curtain", huh?

They can call us dumb nurses, wanna-be doctors, whatever. MD's know very well that as treatment becomes more rapid, more complex, more demanding, nursing education is becoming a dynamic new modality in itself. If I don't understand or anticipate treatment then I am useless.

And as frightening as it is to the A.M.A., I am rather inclined to learn as much as I can about the science behind my work so I 1) don't hurt my patient 2) continue to bring enthusiasm to my career. That may include advanced degrees. And I'm gonna say it: In my area of specialty, it certainly appears that experienced and well educated R.N.s know absolutely as much as physicians do, in that specialty area, and physicians know it. Much in the same way a cardiologist doesn't know what to do with an admit. You want evidence to back that statement up? Ever watch a new intern ask an experienced nurse a question? Tell me who is giving "orders" to who. What doctor hasn't been shown the ropes by a R.N. at some point? From the basics "he needs a fluid challenge" to "write an order to start a levo drip at 20mcg/min and start a central!"

But to know as much as an expert, takes a combination OF YEARS and education. Expedited by education but you can't be an expert without some serious time laid out.

According the the A.M.A.-this is simply impossible.The A.M.A.'s argument is essentially,"If you didn't start your career with a M.D. then you can't ever be as capable as one." Look how they treat D.O.'s? Childish. The truth is that the A.M.A. is concerned with the bad publicity they will receive when advanced nurses start taking the equivalent of the USMLE. THEY WILL DO OUTSTANDING. Nothing like the motivation of those with something to prove.

Example: My old hospital was a teaching hospital affiliated with a major university. It has a C.R.N.A. program. The S.R.N.A.'s have to retake anatomy and physiology along with the med students. Scores were posted in doctor's break rooms. Most of the med students pulled C's and D's. The nurses all scored above 80%. The hospital promptly stopped posting scores in the break rooms.

This is a turf war, plain and simple. MD's can't operate without us. Let them waste their time fighting nurses. Nurses don't fight for turf with doctors. We fight for respect and autonomy. Meanwhile- insurance companies- the real turf monster, are wiping the floor with what used to be the physician's salary and medical authority.

IT DOESN'T TAKE A DNP TO PROVE "M.D. level" COMPETENCE. ALL NURSING NEEDS TO DO IS INSIST ON RECEIVING CREDIT FOR THE WORK WE ALREADY DO. SPREAD THE WORD. WE ROCK.

I guess that's why they call it the Blues

Keep getting called off. I had three shifts this week- called off on one of them- put on call for the other to which I was never called in. This keeps happening.

My ICU normally holds 32 patients. Right now we have 10. Can't get a new job. Nobody is hiring and I'm still too new. I don't have any PTO. Management could care less. I asked if I could pick up shifts in the E.R. or med surge and they bluntly said "no". I wish they had said "Go rot" because then it would have been completely unambiguous. Ridiculously, the other units are still using registry! WTF?

My shift starts at 1830. I get put on call at 1630 until 0030. Whopping 48 bucks.

I'm planning to leave Los Angeles with my family. Move to another state up north. I certainly don't expect the job situation to be any better.

Gosh everyone, I'm bummed out. I wish my company cared. I wish they at least pretended to give a shit, or at least would help us get more certifications while we sit on our duff like CCRN or PALS or something. One big thing about California: Nursing is remarkably uninterested in education of any kind.

I mean, only in nursing does the R.N. have to pay for the C.C.R.N., probably get more responsibilities once obtaining it, then get abused and harassed by the perpetually insecure older nurses for getting the cert but get not one cent more for having the credentials.

The only thing I like about nursing right now is my patients and their disease processes. And they like me.

Don't you feel like you retreat into the job of nursing, into healing and working with your patients to avoid all the bullshit? As if I'm hiding from the drama by doing my job.

Soft Shelled Soul

My life is good. My son (now almost 2!) is more like a little boy than a baby. He's my buddy. I often think about his innocence, and the sincere love of my wife for me and him during the drek of some of my more challenging, heart stopping, tedious, or humiliating shifts. I endure the ebbs and flows of an often scary, dysfunctional career choice for them, and through my family, I get stronger when the tide ebbs and flows.

Nursing is fucked. At least in the beginning. New nurses in my unit are treated like sub humans. Everything we say or do is mocked and considered stupid. And in all honesty, a lot of the things that we new nurses do is pretty darn mockable and stupid. But more often than not our treatment is excessive and has no purpose other than to amuse bitter, older nurses who feel resentfull that the profession has moved ahead and sky's the limit. It is no longer a career choice for those who seem to have chronic, deep self esteem issues and hide behind "a calling".  I hear abot the chaos of their personal lives: divorce, or other wise never married, twelve cats, vacation money spent on taking the dog to the vet.. Nurses are smart people, not particularly intellectual, observing some rigid hierarchy that takes at least 5 years to climb on and carve a niche of protection for oneself. I don't get to work with the other 12 new grads they hired into the ICU. It seems I am on the opposite weekend schedule as almost all of  them. I work except for two or three almost exclusively with senior nurses. I've spent a lot of time wondering if I am still paying dues, or if I  am the young being eaten (frustrating at 32-ooh they hate that. Second career er's).  Perhaps they are just foul tempered in general-and this seems to be the case. But an especially vicious, degrading venom is saved for new comers to the field. I would take this venom with no complaint if it came with information on how to do my job better but the majority of the time I am sighed at, snapped at, loudly gossiped about, IGNORED COMPLETELY I am not privy on how to do my job better. The worst part is that all of the experienced nurses do the same task differently and if they do bless you with advice, solicited or not and you choose to not take it, shit-you're fucked and MAN they resent that.

I have come to find that the constant stream of disrespect is not about me personally, though often the intent is to make it personal, only to make the sting worse. But I work with a group of people who have been together, most for at least five years some as much as 30 and have come to see new hires as management's way of reminding them that there is cheaper, happier, labor out there. To make matters worse, they are forced to "baby sit" us, to teach us, to guide us. They don't want to. Unless precepting they don't get paid any more for it. They are coiled snakes, Iam the urban backpacker, blindly smiling at the scenery, carousing through the grass after dipping my feet in the pool at the bottom of a waterfall when OWWW! I stepped on a snake. 

I got my first 1 to 1 patient assignment two nights ago. She was my patient again last night.

During shift assignment I asked if I could have the admit, I told them ,"I need the experience, with paperwork and otherwise." I'm tired of my admits being confusing disastrous affairs. Endless paperwork I never see unless I'm admitting, trying to still balance my other patient. I am here to learn. Practice. I was not cavalier or loud. I stated a plain fact as none of them showing any pretense of liking me, a reasonable request. They got a hearty laugh out of that.  The oldest one, Rhonda, shook her head and said, "You'll never want an admit again." More evil laughing. Fuck them. I'm here to learn. I practice the number one rule, applicably to any situation in career, love, life: Do you job well, be the best, no as much as possible- and then you have a foundation.

My admit was a direct admit t from the OR, preceded from a frantic call by the OR nurse, with little to no information other than, "I don't know what's taking them so long to close her up." I asked how much blood had been lost. "They said only 300cc's but I counted 20 completely soaked towels." The patient's arrival was preceded by the general/trauma surgeon covered in sweat, writing orders. Telling me to anticipate an anxious family. This struck me as odd because the surgeon doesn't normally bring the family talk to the ICU.  "Just get the FFP in her as fast as possible, use whatever vent settings keeps her alive. She's not a full code, no compressions or defib. Other stuff. In the paperwork somewhere."  Then he split. RT got ready with a vent. The only other white male nurse on my schedule, Roger (sorry p/c world but you notice these things when you are a minority) with just over three years experience, one foot inside the circle the other foot still dangling out did his best to prep me for battle. "I'll do compressions, you just get drugs." 

He more or less gave me a pep talk which was nice. The patients arrival reminded me of a trauma arrival in the E.R. Everybody happily pumped at first, then within five minutes everyone is sick of waiting, all jokes had been told, just ready to get to work. 

My dyke supervisor hadn't shown her close cropped head yet during the shift, which was unusual. I thanked god. She is a barrage of insults, veiled threats, dirty looks, intentionally confusing verbal directions. She adds the cluster to the fuck. Gross. She just makes life miserable and nasty.

My admit was a bowel resection gone on too long, patient too old (past 75 years) to be so morbidly obese at 155kg+, her  hernia not dealt 

with for like 40 years. AMS for 5 days, apparently her bowels had been recieving no blood flow for this long-her hernia cut off blood supply. 1500/cc's of dark brown fecal matter suctioned from her NG tube prior to surgery.  50% of her gut had to be removed. She had no neuro reflexes. Levo at an outstanding 20mcg/min to start.  5 liters LR already in. She came to me with a A-line BP of 75/30. HR good. Order for 4 units of FFP waiting.  

I hooked up the A-line to the monitor while Roger got the bed situated, RT started hooking up. The OR nurse looked freaked but I ignored her. She looked to rattled to even figure out how to disconnect the portable monitor. She's always jittery so I tried to pay it no attention. The anesthesiologist starting apologizing to me for the

 chaos and the fact that the patients right IJ line  wasn't sutured in place and then I got a little freaked. Looking back, I realize- the OR nurse and the anesthesiologist  were trying to give me an updated report from the phone, also going over info I already know-but they didn't really help get her on our monitor or set her up. They both asked, "any questions?" at the same time. How do I know? I'm trying to get the patient at least hooked up- the levo was so high that her extremities were mottled, we couldn't even get a pulse ox reading. Any questions? Yeah. One. What the fuck? What about that category status?

Then walks in the supervisor. Fucking EVERYTHING up. Barking orders, pouring on the confusion. Asking for the patient's property sheet. It was so frustrating. I was 50% set up. Getting ready to take  a step back and evaluate the patient. Roger had got a little ahead of himself and had put the IV pole on the left side, even though I had told him the IV lines were on the right IJ. I had already set the room up. As the patient came in I didn't notice Roger moving the pole. By the time I did the supervisor had already started her fucking harassment. "The R.N. formerly Known as Angry Male Nurse, why did you put the pole on the left side?" First off, in this stress full situation, why ask me why? Do we really have time to explain? I continued to set up the A-line, I wanted to say, "Roger did it" so she'd get off my back but then I would be ratting Roger out, who while not being the most impressive or experienced nurse around is the only one offering help. So I say, "I didn't move it over there. " Roger finally mans up and says, "I did, I didn't see the line." Supervisor's tone TOTALLY CHANGES.  

"Oh, yeah too many people to see. No problem. Well lets move it back over." WHAT THE FUCK?

Then she barks her first direct command at me, "T.R.N.F.K.A.A.M.N. (me) start your assessment we'll move the pole." Fine except 1) my physical assessment doesn't mean shit if I don't know if the patient is alive or not and I'm 20 seconds from having the A-line running 2) Dr. Drugs didn't suture in the Right I.J. and Roger is  so fucking scared of the supervisor he's literally YANKING OUT THE LINE. I pull the lines with my right hand to get some slack and I compress the IJ insertion sight with my left. In my head I was thinking - I should explain what I'm doing to the supervisor- but then another part of my head said- isn't it abundantly obvious what I'm doing, focus on keeping the line in, yell at Roger to stop moving- I yell at Roger, "Line!' and my supervisor, I swear to god tries to pipe in "NE!" Like she's got it under control. She tells me to get out of the way again but Roger is too far away to give slack. I don't say anything. I'm literally stretched out over the bed, one hand on the jugular one hand holding the line."

She literally screams, "Fine! You don't want my help than do this yourself!"

She storms out of the room, no doubt to run from module to module telling any nurses with 10+ years how horrible I am. That's how I know how irritable she is. The more annoyed she is the less years of exeprience it takes her to slander me. I 've had her at the 5+ years before. That's not paranoia, people. Some of the ancillary staff, R.T.'s, the one tech we have until midnight, have told me verbatim the bullshit she tells people about me. I can never win.

Roger brings the line around. 

"Man she makes things difficult", I say.

"She can be a bit of a drama queen," Roger replies. But drama queen doesn't cut it. First off, she looks like an old dude. She has the worst case of penis envy ever had, I know she's wearing a fake dick.  She slanders, she lies. She cannot have a single interaction with me without making a joke at my expense, rolling her eyes, glaring at me, cutting me off.  She's thinking "How come this weird, wrongly confident guy gets to have a dick and I DON'T? I wish I could sit down with her and say," It's just a dick, boss. It's what's on the inside that counts." In her head she thinks life is easier for me because I'm a guy. A white guy. Just like the ones that treated her  former Iowan redneck ass  like total shit. I can totally picture her figuring out around the twelfth grade that the reason why no guy ever asked her to prom is because she's freakishly boyish, likes to kick football player's ass, and finds the smell of vagina somehow alluring...vowing to hate. Her last ditch attempt at femininity was to become a nurse but she quickly realized that for those with the right moves it was a way to burn to memory her unspoken desires. To this day she lives alone, childless, doesn't have an old lady, loves the 49'ers. So I suffer.

But this time, like many other times, I have my patient to retreat into, to focus on, to nurse.  I get working. It's Roger and me for about an hour and a half. He's grabbing the UA, pulls an ABG for me, relays some lab values, he grabs the four packs of FFP for me. We double check them off together. Team work until 11:00 p.m. when the supervisor comes back into the module. I see her walk in. I hear the older nurses laughing. I hear one of them say, "He'll never want another admit again." Then Roger is gone. Sadly, for the next two shifts he cops an attitude with me. Just like that. I know what happened. The supervisor made it clear. Him or me. Roger has a family, too.  Supervisor leaves and the charge nurse says, "They should of just let her go." It's a fucking hernia you jaded psychopath! Being old doesn't mean you should die. The charge nurse is like 65 years old herself. What the fuck happened to these nurses to make them hate so goddamn hard?

As they are laughing at my fading vital signs 65/30, still no fucking O2 sat because she has no peripheral blood flow. I ask the RT to get one that adheres to the head. "Nope. Can't do it. We are only supposed to use those as a last resort in the case that we can't get a pulse ox reading from the hand and we've tried repeatedly."

"I can't get a pulse ox reading and I've tried repeatedly,". I'm getting the vibe she's been Supervised if you know what I'm saying. The intern walks in. "Still no pulse ox? Can you get one of those ones that goes around the head?" The RT sighs and says, "I'm really busy, but I 'll see what I can do." Like it's a personal goddamn favor or something. You'd think the Respiratory Therapist would want to know the saturation of the patient she's setting the ventilator to minute by minute but hey, an ABG once every 4 hours is good enough I guess.

She comes back with the head band. "TRNFKAAMN, this is it. Alright. I did you a big favor here."

Is she going against the will of the Supervisor, does she have a limited stash? Or was she just to lazy to go get one? No doubt she's busy, we all are but fuck, we need a goddamn pulse ox reading. Either way, I thank her profusely, I act as if a great personal favor has been performed.

Intern wants a C.V.P. Got to set that up. Haven't set up an A-line and CVP simultaneously from scratch before. It takes me about 10 minutes longer than it should have. I see  the Supervisor an

the old Burnouts watching the monitors from outside. "Wait-there it goes, nope!HA-Ha!" It is sport. I plug it in wrong like 5 times but eventually I realized I had the CVP in the right ports, I just needed to zero the monitor out before it would start reading. Low and behold- got 'em both. Now that knowledge is mine. CVP=5. That's low. The written order is to continue bolusing until CVP is above 15. We gots along way to go.

My patient B.P. sank then rose as we brought the levophed up to 40mcg/min. The resident walks in. He sees the patient start to move her right arm. The k-hole (ketamine) Dr. Drugs had put the patient in to paralyze her is starting to wear off. I'm relieved. She's got neuro reflexes slowly coming back. So what's the first order form the rez? Fentanyl and Versed. Fucking drip. I literally said, "My BP!" The rez went on some diatribe about how much pain she must be in, I was thinking yeah, but think about how much pain she WON'T have when she's dead. He insists. An hour later, with the smallest rate of Fentanyl and Versed possible, she takes a dive like a bomb over London in 42'. which also happens to be her systolic blood pressure again. 

And then my friends, the light shone upon me. The gift of experience, the undeniable truth of going-thu-it came to visit me that eve, and left me as excited as a waking seven year old who has left  a molar underneath the pillow. The intern and I concluded: She's not dying tonight. We went to town. Dobutamine. Max it the fuck out, to start. Pound a bolus down. Family comes in. Intern and I tag team to stay functioning. I listen to their fears, he gives them the surgical realities. Intern manages to sink a one and a million shot at 4 am with a new triple lumen in right groin. Now I got accesss baby. 2 bags of albumin down the hatch. Next up: Fuck it 25% Albumin.As I'm running by  Charge Nurse says, "You asked for it." I tell her do you hear one iota of complaint from my mouth. "No. Nope," she says. Good. Shut the fuck up.No one would help me if I asked. Certainly no one offers. Snickers and asshole comments as I run. I'm sprinting to other modules to grab pumps, bags of saline since I had used all of ours. At 4:30Am the intern says, "This is a lot of work for you isn't it?" 

"Yeah,"I replied, "But great experience". CHECK THIS OUT: ALL THE WHILE I'M STILL TAKING CARE OF MY OTHER FUCKING VENTED PATIENT.

Fortunately he was over sedated by the day shift nurse who is approaching an increased age and mentation  where I wonder if she knows where she is during work, I can't believe she's a nurse in the I.C.U. let alone taking care of people. She means well and is generally nice. Fuck it- that counts. I know the reason why the sedation was up so high because 1) she can't figure out how to operate the ancient "computerized" pumps and 2) she had the observationist tech do it (SEE:LAST ENTRY-dude got me $4K back on my federal tax returns)  I pull back on his sedation, tighten his celestial reins and it buys me time. He doesn't have too many meds, he's certainly not shitting after the opiate load he got today, I just duck in and reposition him q2 hours. 

Supervisor tells me I have to take lunch.  My turd of a charge nurse takes over which means she parks her fat ass in front of the monitor and calls the other modules to tell them how funny it is I'm running my ass off. "Yeah. One of the new ones."

While I'm having lunch one of the most vicious of the old guard strolls in on his third lunch break, his assignments are a fucking joke, a facetiously asks me how tonight is going. This fucker never asks me that. I tell him, "Going well. You?" He doesn't makes eye contact. 

Day break comes. I hear the morning traffic start to blare out from television in the conscious patients' room. At 5:30 AM my experienced co-workers were forced to take over my other patient. I had so many pumps and drips going that according to union rule, or maybe it's in the old testament, not sure which, my patient became a 1 to 1. But never missing the opportunity to insult and degrade I hear my supervisor tell the day shift  supervisor, "Well, she's a soft 1 to 1."

Her tone insinuating, we have to, but we don't want to. Listen friends: I know it, you know it, she didn't want to give me credit, her insult was an admission of truth, there was no sarcasm to decipher no questions without self incriminating answers to stumble through: her dislike of me was a gift of credit. For if she had said "Wow this patient was a fuckin train wreck and you need some good staff on this one"-well that would have done me justice. That would have put my rank higher and I honestly would have thought that she was goofing on me. Her answer was a begrudging admittance of truth: a soft one to one, for a soft new nurse whose shell hasn't hardened yet from years of overwork, abuse from superiors, no breaks, distended bladder so-called friends hating/loving you from  one minute from the next. A soft 1 to to 1.

The patient was mine again the next night. During the day the Attending M.D. had come in, broke some rules and stabilized her with techniques unavailable to the night shift. I can't elaborate but he did what Attendings usually do and ignore patient wishes in the place of his ego's demand. No matter. She didn't die that night either. 

Three people, it's true! No less than three people told me I did a great job of keeping that lady alive.  Somebody noticed. And even though the Supervisor apparently heard that one of the people who had told me I was doing well was too valuable to her to have a compliment like that stand. Even though he too stopped mysteriously talking to me 3 hours after his compliment, the compliment had been spoken, like a wish thought out during a birthday, or a coin thrown in a fountain, or victory in snapping the majorous side of a wishbone. 

     The RN that complimented me, Chuck, normally works float during the day but was filling in as house supervisor for the vacationing real one. People generally thought it funny that Chuck was House Supe as he normally just does lunch  breaks. I needed a compressor for leg squeezers and two of the senior nurses told me to call him to bring one up. My supervisor found out and did her fake drop the jaw thing, parade around the base desk, smacking her fore head, accused me of violating the chain of command by calling the house supe who happened Chuck that night. I detected a faint smile underneath her rant. Happy, he fucked up. Of course the older nurses who told me to do it didn't speak up. When Chuck delivered the compressor he said he was glad he could help out  but in the morning when I thanked him again for the compressor he just said "whatever", scowled, and literally turned around and walked away.This is my Supervisor's way. I have experienced this with other older nurses as well when they turn someone against you. "I can't believe he did that to you, who does he think he is?" The person who previously wasn't aware thatthey had been insulted now feels SUPREMELY insulted.)

The vicory was still mine. And while I do not believe I could ever function in this high acquity without the support of my co-workers, it's too exhausting and inevitably a fuck up will slip that will put yur career's fate in the hand of the Supervisor on duty, well that's it.  However, tonight I got one step closer to independence and got just a little bit closer to not being at the whim of those who are so "experienced" as they recipricate the abuse they no doubt at some point endured or continue to endure.

I never was a bully in school. I moved a lot as a kid, some years I was popular, other years I was shit. But I never broke down an teased others to make myself look better. Now, I talked shit about every more popular, better off, better looking kid under the sun to my friends out of jealousy but this was out of general disgust of human behavior and a deeply disturbing underlying antisocial outlook on circumstances at the time but I never attacked the vulnerable. It's not in me. It wasn't then, isn't now, never shall be. 

The only thing is, is it obvious? or hidden like I like to tell myself that it is. Wanting to consume the biggers power, experience, knoweldge, standing.

I think of what the only new hire with experience in the group said to me as a friend during orientation, "I may have been a nurse for only six months but these bitches are going to hate you forever, for life. You do just the right things to piss off the older nurses.  They hate you because you are right and that's why you don't realize you are doing it."

Electrified and Numb

Occasionally, my coworkers are serpent-esque. Dealing with them is as challenging as handling this intubated snake.


I’ve been busy. Bizzzee. Dizzy. Running around. Puttin’ out fires. Starting fires. Paying my dues. Because in nursing you think you pay your dues in nursing school but this most certainly isn’t true. You pay your entrance to the show dues in nursing school so you can pay your real membership dues, dues to the V.I.P. lounge once the fun begins. And then you pay your dues for at least the first three years of being on the job in all sorts of painful, alienating ways. Cuz every step you take, every move you make, some bitter nurse with more years of experience then you is there to tell you how completely stupid you are to do what you did. I can’t help but identify with Shaolin Kung Fu monks or Jedi Knights. When it gets bad or heavy, I think of Luke Skywalker as a R.N. being reamed becuase he didn't turn off the occlusion alarm fast enough for the older, more irritable Jedi's who perpetually have Jedi migraines from using the force all the time. Someone is always more experienced than you and not nice about it. Even your good moves show weakness.
“Didn’t you do this with your preceptor?” My first admit from the E.R.
Yeah. In September. But my preceptor didn’t really let me do it because she thought I wasn’t up to it, i.e. it’s such a tedious mindless procedure with pages of redundant paperwork that my preceptor didn’t even want to bother. And none of my 10 preceptors ever did. I was going to do an admit last week but the charge nurse said loudly, “He’s new. Brand new. No way.” Except I’m not brand new. I’m off orientation for about a month. I’m past brand new. Perhaps you could call my current stage: I’m really new but still held accountable for everything goddamn thing that happens regardless phase.
Last week the charge nurse thought I was too new to admit a patient. This weeks charge nurse feels I’m not so new to admit a patient, who happens to be the fucking E.R. doc’s father V.I.P. patient, so I’m pretty much shit out of luck. So yeah, I did it with my preceptor but I didn’t do it. Impossible to explain to the current charge nurse without sounding like I’m throwing out excuses. So I asked for a quick rundown of the necessary admitting paperwork. She makes a face like I asked her if we could try and resuscitate Adolfe Hitler. Her face says: How stupid!

Two shifts ago I had a patient on a ventilator. He coughed so hard while I was repositioning him that he popped the oxygen tube right off the connection point at the ventilator. I couldn’t figure out how to get the thing back on because the respiratory therapist put a “tester hose” right in front of “the real hose” which didn't fit the oxygen tube. So my patient now has no oxygen source and I’m trying to connect a fake hose to a real one and it’s not working. And my patient, without an oxygen source is desaturating to the low 80’s. Meaning he's not breathing.
Uh-oh time. My supervisor, Murphy’s fucking Law, happens to be walking by as this is happening. My supervisor has already told me she thinks I’m “weird” and “will make life real hard” on me. I’m not sure if she despises me in particular, possibly just any other living human being. My supervisor smiles when they pronounce someone dead. She giggles during CPR. She admires the pain on a patients face when a NG tube is being placed. And she loves pussy. She huffs and curses at you under her breath when you don’t know the location of the bacteria that has gotten your patient into isolation.
“Why is your patient in isolation?” she asks everybody at the beginning of the shift, because you know, fifteen minutes into the shift R.N.’s have time to go through the chart in a leisurely manner and find out facts that are only useful to her. (funny because now I make time to find these facts out cuz I’m sick of her cursing me beneath her breath.)
“Because he has MRSA.”
“Where?” She asks impatiently.
“I don’t know.”
“Son of a mother huf gab dubda…”
And that face. Oh, that hateful frown. That look like You utter piece of shit, now I have to do my job. Personally, I don’t give a shit where my patient has MRSA. I’m wearing gloves, gown and a mask no matter what this mother fucker has. Who gives a shit if my patient has MRSA in the nares. I’m not going to be picking his nose anytime soon. I won’t be licking his nostrils for pleasure in the immediate future. What the fuck lady? What…the…fuck?
So the ventilator alarm is screaming. The monitor alarm is shitting itself. Hell is starting to break a little loose.
Enter: The know it all nursing assistant. He walks in and cops what I call the “observationist attitude.” And attitude, I must say, I have been guilty of plenty of times. The observationist attitude is where you are watching a stressful situation unfold and you feel free to predict the outcome of the situation before there could even possibly be an outcome. CNA’s are especially guilt of second guessing nurses. Nurses are especially guilty of second guessing doctors. Doctors are especially guilty of second guessing specialist MD’s. The observationist has several qualities that make him/her an observationist. They are:
1) The Observationist has no actual responsibility in the situation.
2) Feels comfortable enough to openly judge the performance of those around her/him, though he is “below” their position.
3) Thinks the solution is easy to fix, having never fixed it.
4) Everybody is stupid because the solution is easy to fix.
5) Resents the fact that she/he is making one fourth of what the stupid people around him are making because he knows how to fix the problem.
6) Is pissed cuz he knows if she/he keeps talking he will be told to shut the hell up.

So I gots this little situation on my hand. I got a mildly retarded CNA who I swear comes to work for the free coffee and to give out tax advice though he makes 10 bucks an hour. I have a positively hateful short haired, dyke supervisor (she prefers to be called a dyke) who openly hates my ass. I’ve got an explosively coughing intubated desaturating patient, and oh yeah, there is a volunteer in the room who looks up to the CNA for some unknown reason (I think she loves free coffee) and is adding to the clutter and general chaos in the room. Could things get worse? Of course they can silly! They can get absolutely fucking horrible.
Supervisor tells me to get the hell out of the way. She yells, “Start baggin’ him.” I concur. Except we can’t find a BVM. It’s buried somewhere behind the ventilator. The nursing assistant dives in front of me, in an effort to impress the supervisor, “I’ve got it.” But he doesn’t have it, because he is the observationist, and observationists have nothing. I ask him is there a BVM?
“No!” he says. I stupidly trust the CNA. As I’m sprinting out of the room to my other patients room to grab a BVM my supervisor shouts, it’s right here, it’s right here! The observationist is already back tracking, trying to explain in the middle of this situation why he couldn’t see the BVM. Nobody cares. He tries to hand the BVM off to the volunteer who is jumping up and down like the last kid picked for a kickball game. “Here! Me!” A fleeting thought runs through my mind, You are about to get showed up by two unlicensed coffee drinkers and THIS IS MY PATIENT! I am responsible for the outcome of this situation!

“BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE WAY!” They scrambled out of the way. In fact the volunteer ran outside of the room and never came back. I haven’t seen her in the I.C.U. since. My supervisor looked at me for the briefest millisecond ever recorded in humanity with a look of like, Well maybe this guys not so bad cuz he just was really rude to these two lesser human beings. Supervisor hooks up the BVM to oxygen. Now I’m shouting where is the mask? The CNA, with his observationist ego badly wounded shouts back, “He doesn’t need one!” Damn. Duh. I was an E.M.T. in the ER waaay to long. The CNA, now with his mojo back, tries to tell me how to connect the E.T.T. tube onto the BVM but I’ve already done it realizing my mistake.

So this is the part of the story where the dues are paid. I start bagging the patient. Trying to get that O2 sat back up from 70’s land, where it’s been for about 10 seconds. I’m just thinking, Fuck it, I’m gonna fill this fucker full of O2. The sats start to rise. 82% 86%. I was pumping that bag like Arnold pumped iron. My supervisor barks, “He was on 12 respirations a minute, how fast are you bagging? You’re gonna fill him with air.” I start to argue, look I just want to get these numbers up but then I realize I’ve already fucked up enough today so I slow down. I slow down bagging. BUt each squeeze is hard, people. I make those 12 resps. a goddamn wind tunnel. And I shut up. The O2 will go up anyway, just slower. IN WALKS THE DYKE SUPERVISOR’S ARCH RIVAL: THE OTHER NURSE THERE WITH MORE THAN 25 YEARS EXPERIENCE: The charge nurse. SHE HAS COME TO COLLECT HER DUES FROM ME AS WELL.
“Why the hell are you bagging so slow, The R.N. Formerly Known As Angry Male Nurse?” Carol, the arch rival, bellows at me.
I start stuttering, I’m thinking cuz super dyke told me to but then I don’t want to have that fight right now, I just want everyone out of my fucking room, so I sidestep the confrontation and just say the sats are going up.
My supervisor decides to engage the bogey. “You don’t want a belly full of air do you?”
Carol switches to guns and fires her canon, “Who cares? Get the oxygen up.”
I manage to sputter out, “Oh look 90%, good, back in business. Where’s that RT?”
The arch rival’s stare each other down. Then they look at me. I’m standing there like, “Garsh, ladies.” Pretty fucking stupid. Afterwards they both took me aside to tell me that they were right and the other one was wrong. Supervisor says bag slowly (which is stupid) but she was actually nice about it because technically I took her side during the engagement-Arch Rival Carol says do whatever you have to do to get the O’s back up (right thing to do).
Hark, I am at everybodies mercy. And when the mistake is a blunder, whoa baby! Everybody has their two cents to put in.
2 minutes later everybody left my module to go talk shit about me. Everybody left. The supervisor left, Carol the arch rival left, the CNA left, fuck even the secretary we have once a week scrambled out of there. Paying my dues. No bizness like show bizness. When I finally got to lunch I attempted to retell the story but when I started recanting the tale, I noticed that everybody looked away and the fellow new grad I was telling the story to just looked down. Then I realized the CNA was sitting right next to him. Oops. I forgot. My story had already been told at least five different times in five different ways by people who couldn't wait to tell of the failure of this new R.N. What is he doing here if he can't even figure out how to reconnect the patient to the BVM? It takes years among people who feel bad about themselves to give their esteem and respect to others. It takes 6 seconds of confusion to get labeled a doofus for life. I'm glad my supervisor was confused, too. Otherwise, I probably would have been written up.
Turns out the hose that stumped me and my supervisor was a “tester” hose to check the quality of the connection. Why it was taped directly in front of the port connector I’ll never know, cuz the RT sure as fuck didn’t. But then again, RT’s don’t know much of fucking anything. (Sorry guys- I still can’t figure out what you guys do exactly. I guess wearing white lab coats has gone to your head. But I'm more or less an observationist to your skills.)
What a bonehead beginner mistake to make. And of course I received the obligatory lecture on always knowing where your BVM is from my supervisor. Which I deserved. The whole thing was my fuck up. Because I am new, and prone to stupid yet deadly mistakes, I have to pay my dues. Even the CNA’s get a piece. Fuck even the volunteer got a little slice of my pride.

I still love my job. I love getting better at it. I love knowing I will never make the same mistake again. I also like knowing that I am one of the few nurses who checks to make sure that the BVM is hanging inside of its bag and where exactly it is on the bed of every single one of my patients from here on out.
Right now I have to go. I’m meeting up with that Observationist CNA. He said he’d do my taxes for $50 bucks.

The Hard Way Pt. 2

Taking me a while to update my posts. Apologies. The learning curve is keeping me busy. Collecting excellent stories to share. Give me more time...

Me:“That’s right. I did nothing all day. I fake added up my I/O’s. These numbers you see here, they’re fake.” I was adding up the last hour of I/O’s after report had been given to night shift. They come on at 1830, I leave at 1900, that leaves a half hour gap for me to take care of.

Preceptor: “Ha. Ha. Okay I see. Because if you hadn’t added up your I/O’s I would be VERY angry at you.”

Friends, my nerve got hit. Hard. I'm learning. I make mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes. Dumb ones. I don't profess not to. BUt I'm here to learn, not get verbally or brow beaten. Unlike some nurses, I throw back verbal punches. Maybe bad for the career in the long run, but my fists land. And they leave marks. And sometimes they land hard enough where I don't have to go home hating myself.

Me: “I DON’T GIVE A SHIT if you get mad or not. If I had neglected to add my numbers up until the last minute then I would be disappointed in myself for not using my time properly which, apparently you haven’t noticed, I did.”

Preceptor: (Not really sure that he had just got told off): “Uh…ha-ha.”

Sorry friends. Preceptors can be jerks, micromanage, hell they can even be disrespectful. But getting angry over not adding up I/O’s as a threat of some sort, sorry. Needed to put him back into line. The blowback? I’m sure he told anybody who would listen how terrible I am but I’m not really too worried about it. For the last few days other nurses have been coming up to me and saying, “How’s M------ abuse treating you today?”

Repercussion for my words? I don’t know. I don’t care. His preceptor, 3 years ago, was a notoriously abusive bitch, it’s too bad he hasn’t figured out he doesn’t need to act that way anymore. My preceptor is a good ICU nurse. Obsessive, detail oriented, gives a shit about the patients. He is somebody I have learned a lot from, and he has helped be focus on areas where I need work. Certainly I can be a stubborn fucking mule. Dangerous qualities as a new grad in the ICU. I am aware. But I don’t believe in fear based nursing. I see how my preceptor is afraid of management. He doesn’t understand that kissing their ass has brought him no respect, just more responsibilities that he doesn’t get paid for taking on. The ICU day shift supervisor told my preceptor to “drill instruct me” and have me ready to be solo in 2 months. Well, I’m ready to be solo. Scared shitless about it but ready. But I aint in the military. Call it pride, ego, vanity, stupidity, whatever. I got boundaries and they will not be crossed, as a matter of self preservation. So much disrespect and dehumanization burned me out as an E.M.T. the first time around. I’m not going to let it happen again.
As my best friend, who is a S.I.C.U. nurse told me, “Dude, just make it off probation.”

Has to be on my terms. This is why I write about my one confrontation as a new grad. Because it has to be done to change nursing. I write to remind myself and other nurses that being disrespected, patronized, condescended to, yelled at, or humiliated in any way is unacceptable by any medical personnel. That HORIZONTAL VIOLENCE is behavior that is truly unbecoming of a nurse. Not having a fucking opinion that differs from the general consensus should not be the impetus for school yard behavior.