(no subject)
I sort of wish I had kept closer track of clinical stories here like I used to. Here are a few of the characters I want to remember:
Bickering British old couple, indignant man who fell on his ass because he did not want to call us to fetch the urinal for him. "God you're a pretty little thing, you are, aren't you."
Sweet as pie older woman with her whole extended family in her room all day long. Fettuccine with olive oil and garlic. Doing laps with her husband around the unit as per the ritual that kept them healthy and strong for so long.
Inappropriate old Irishman. First application of a pressure dressing. Huge hematoma.
Don and his wife Natalie. Married 60something years. "Why don't you just let me die?" Died 2/24/08
LSMR with his big smile and little cap being sent off to Hyder House.
336 PTSD and edema.
I can't remember much further back than these. Funny how after a while everyone's story sort of gets intertwined and you can't remember their faces anymore. Sometimes people write their life stories in my memory with washable ink, some people use sharpies. Even the washable ones are never fully gone. They pop up the next time you have a similar case and you stand outside their door and try to get a better look at their face, thinking "Have I seen them before? Didn't I take care of them a while ago?"
And the answer is yes, of course you did. But last time they might have been male or female, a few years older or younger, with a little more or less hair and sense of humor. Blurry. I need to keep closer track.
Bickering British old couple, indignant man who fell on his ass because he did not want to call us to fetch the urinal for him. "God you're a pretty little thing, you are, aren't you."
Sweet as pie older woman with her whole extended family in her room all day long. Fettuccine with olive oil and garlic. Doing laps with her husband around the unit as per the ritual that kept them healthy and strong for so long.
Inappropriate old Irishman. First application of a pressure dressing. Huge hematoma.
Don and his wife Natalie. Married 60something years. "Why don't you just let me die?" Died 2/24/08
LSMR with his big smile and little cap being sent off to Hyder House.
336 PTSD and edema.
I can't remember much further back than these. Funny how after a while everyone's story sort of gets intertwined and you can't remember their faces anymore. Sometimes people write their life stories in my memory with washable ink, some people use sharpies. Even the washable ones are never fully gone. They pop up the next time you have a similar case and you stand outside their door and try to get a better look at their face, thinking "Have I seen them before? Didn't I take care of them a while ago?"
And the answer is yes, of course you did. But last time they might have been male or female, a few years older or younger, with a little more or less hair and sense of humor. Blurry. I need to keep closer track.