or he will spit in your soup.
That is how I look at medical care, too.
If you are a morbidly obese (I'm talking 500 pounds at least) person being transferred to the hospital from a nursing rehabilitation facility, and you need help to do every little thing, it would behoove you to at least not be hostile toward everyone who comes near you.
The minute you were wheeled in, we immediately called facilities management to order a large bed. It doesn't help for you to scream and yell about it, threaten to sue everyone who comes near you, and tell everyone that in two minutes you are going to "get out of this stretcher and start killing people."
When your bed does show up less than a half-hour later, and six people (doctors and nurses and techs and anyone we can muster up) struggle to transfer you into it, perhaps you could thank them, or perhaps help a little to move yourself instead of calling them all motherfuckers and yelling "WATCH IT YOU ARE KILLING MY BALLS YOU FUCKS!"
When your nurse (me!) comes over to offer you something to eat (now THAT's carrying coals to Newcastle...but I digress) and to start your antibiotics and help you pee by maneuvering a bedpan under your gigantic swollen scrote and tries to be nice to you, making sure you are comfortable in your humungous bed, please DO NOT EVER drop your cell phone on the floor, and when I bend over to get it, say, "Nice caboose!" and then mention that sometimes there are naked people on the discovery channel and I should stay to watch with you. (seriously, CABOOSE?!? It would be funny if it weren't so pathetic.)
Also, it would be really great if you didn't yak on your cell phone for an hour, cursing up a storm, thoroughly embarrassing the little old lady with the broken shoulder on the other side of the curtain. "Why does he have to say those things?" She whispers to me. "He doesn't seem very nice."
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11 comments:
All I got from that story is that you apparently have a rather nice caboose. Got any pictures you'd care to share??? LOL
So did you start referring to him as Mr. Creosote?
Ipecac in the soup?
Yeah did you offer him a wafer thin mint? That could have gotten him off your hands...though there would have been a heck of a mess to clean up. =)
Monty Python reference.....
beat me to it!
I love Mr Creasote!
Why the hell did he come to the ER in the first place?
"Better get a bucket; I’m going to throw up."
Fish 1: Oh Shit! It’s Mr Creosote!
Maître-D': Ah, good afternoon, Sir, and how are we today?
Mr Creosote: Better.
Maître-D': Better?
Mr Creosote: Better get a bucket; I’m going to throw up.
(thought I should leave the full quote.)
I've noticed over the years the same thing about the morbidly obese. They have a very low tolerance for discomfort whether pain or hunger. In the recovery room they require much higher doses of analgesics (even accounting for the added body mass). Many of them act as if everyone should be at their beck and call. Some are just plain obnoxious. True this is a generalization, but some stereotypes have basis in fact.
My last morbidly obese guy repeatedly screamed "I gotta take a piss! Put my dick in the bottle!". Um, no.
Nasty useless human being.
Basic rule of life that has gotten me thus far:
When dealing with Nurses, Tatto Artists, and Waiters - be polite, don't argue, and tip well. (I've found most nurses will happily accept cookies and other baked goods)
Anyone who is about to jab a large needle into your body or handle your food deserves your respect and quick "Yes Ma'am's".
Stupidest person I ever saw, called a friend of mine a less then kind word (rhymes with punt as a matter of fact) mere SECONDS before she was to draw blood. Frankly, I view anyone with the power to order me cathiterized with more then a bit of awe and fear.
that sux! He would have seen the steam coming out of my ears if I had been his RN!
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