Cosmic Chronicles

Fri, 13 Jun 2008 19:34:08 GMT

Isn't my hair great? That is some serious hair product that lasts this long, no?

I am alive, but not so well. I am, actually, feeling like a huge sack of mucoid hacking crap. Also, someone has apparently beaten me with a club and shoved burning pokers into my sinuses. I sleep a lot, which is good, but I'm hating this now. I want to wake up and be well. I am starting to give up hope of ever feeling better. After working my weekend, I came home and have contracted some sort of disgusting flu and have been bed/couch bound since Tuesday.
"Who gets the flu in June??" Monica wants to know.

So, I have to say that I've missed everyone's birthday and probably father's day. I haven't really forgotten. I've just been way-layed. So, I'm a lousy aunt, daughter, cousin and friend. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

I thought I should arise and let you know that I am still here. Monica made me some brownies to help to make me feel better. As hard as I tried, I was unable to dissect this long hair from one of the brownies:

Oh, the joys of mammalianism.

I am very unhappy about this illness because 1)I'm off work 2) the weather has turned fabulous and 3) I'm afraid I may miss the event I've been waiting to go to all year.

Our biggest life obstacle these days is deciding what color to paint the house. We have gone through pretty close to every color of the spectrum and the garage door now looks like some drunken grandmother's quilt. Right now, the house is Gray, so any color will be an improvement.

Stay well!

I'm Alive!

Tue, 20 May 2008 19:03:49 GMT

I must announce that I am alive. My primary purpose online lately has been maintaining a new website called PlanetAshland.net

Last week we decided to take a drive up the coast and visit the places we missed on our motorcycle trip a couple of years ago. Our first night we returned to one of our favorite hotels called the Ya Tel in Yachats, OR. Yachats is a quaint seaside town which has not been overrun with commercialism. It was exciting to walk out on the jetty and watch the waves crash around us at dusk. Afterward we went to the Drift Inn and had dinner. The place was artistically decorated with colorful umbrellas and mermaid murals all over the walls. We were happy to have live music while we ate fresh seafood. June Rushing overwhelmed us with her rendition of Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah."

Nothing makes me happier than coffee in the morning on the beach.

Turns out there was a heatwave coming through Ashland which made the coast even warmer than usual. Sometimes in the high 90's. I don't think I've ever seen it that warm on the west coast, at least where I've been hanging out. After reluctantly leaving Yachats, we drove up the coast and visted a few other seaside towns. We had visited Newport on our way back from Canada in '06 and found the harbor area, an Uber-Ripley's Believe it or Not and pulled taffy turista town. Then Monica discovered the opposite side of town called Nye Beach, which runs along the ocean. We stopped in an arts center where we learned that the area's school art program was shutting down due to lack of funds. As we walked around and looked at all the amazing student art we were pretty disheartened to hear about another program closing. It seems that art and music are the first to go in schools. The curator of the art center told us to check out the Sylvia Beach Hotel just up the street.

We were welcomed to explore the rooms of the hotel, each one had a theme of a famous author. The whole hotel was dedicated to the love of books. Rooms that were available were named after authors such as Hemingway, Colette, Alice Walker, Dr. Seuss, Virginia Woolf, Jane Austen, JRR Tolkein and Agatha Christie. They even had dorm room dedicate to Oregon authors so people could stay relatively cheaply.

After we left Nye Beach, we drove up a little further and decided to have a picnic along the water. It was so windy we had to hold our food down.

I tried to enjoy lunch with the Unibomber.

Monica had the idea to go along the cape route as we went further north so we could stay along the water. We decided to try to find a place in Oceanside. She spotted a hand-painted sign along the road that said Clifftop Inn. "There's a place!" she said. I'm always a little skeptical of Monica's scouting because she points out every single thing along the road as potential. As we rolled into the tiny town we found very few places to stay. I thought I would check out this Clifftop, thinking it would be a bust. We drove up a long hill to the peak of the cliff where a simple looking hotel stood. Monica went in and as I studied the surroundings and the view I figured it was out of our price range. She came out of the office, beaming. She had managed to negotiate a lower price since it was so late in the evening. We scored an amazing room with a deck overlooking the ocean.

We sat out, drank wine and watched the beautiful sunset.

By the time it grew dark, we realized we were starving. Finding food in this tiny town was nearly impossible and we ended up at a tavern just up the road. Smoky and decorated with the original paneling and a few animal heads, we walked up to the bar and peered into the kitchen. We heard someone cooking so we thought we were in luck. It was going to be a far cry from the dinner we had in Yachats, but it was worth it having seen that sunset. A short gray haired woman with a cigarette ambled out of the kitchen. She was wearing one of those cheap boardwalk T-shirts with a picture of a teddy bear ironed on. She seated us in a corner booth away from the smoking drunk women at the end of the bar. The menu consisted of ordinary burgers, sandwiches and other fried delights. I ordered a cheeseburger. We chuckled when they offered us TaterTots as an optional side. Classy. Monica ordered the Garden Burger. "Do you have a wheat bun?" she inquired. I kicked her under the table. "Hello? They serve TATER TOTS." Wheat bun indeed. Of course, to go with your minced, formed deep-fried potato products. Dork.

After our succulent pub grub, we returned to our room. All night long the balmy breeze fluttered through the room and the sound of the crashing waves lulled us to sleep. It was amazing. Turns out the place is being renovated into a retreat center. Secretly, I hope it stays as quaint as it is. I thanked the woman, a hemp-wearing soft-spoken 20-something, who gave us the room. I'm pretty sure it was the best room. At least to me.

We literally had to pull ourselves away from that place. When we woke up it was really windy and we were so glad we weren't on the motorcycle. We bypassed Tillamook since we heard it was a boring lumber town. It is also the home of Tillamook cheeses which makes it quite aromatic with bovine flatulence. We rode up the coast toward Astoria and stopped to see one of the lighthouses where both got dizzy on the spiral staircase. Wimps.
We stopped to visit the landing site of Lewis and Clark and then we crossed the bridge from Astoria into Washington and stayed in Long Beach. Being a Friday night, our accomodations diminished greatly. We ended up at a Rodeway Inn. It was close to the beach and we had a nice walk along the beach at sunset. We had dinner at a seafood place where the specialty was fresh halibut. A seafood dish is always pricey so we split a dish of grilled halibut and the more I ate of it I realized it had no flavor whatsoever. It was one of the most bland things I've ever eaten. I didn't say anything and thought well, it's just really fresh so it has no fishy taste. I ate it with the rice pilaf which didn't have much flavor either. After we were finished Monica asked me how I liked it and I confessed I thought it didn't have much flavor. She agreed and when she went to pay the bill and she was gone for a long time. The lady at the cashier asked her how she liked the dinner and Monica told her that it was a bit tasteless. Evidently, the cook failed to season the fish and we got the fish for free with apologies. We felt a little better about that. Thank god Monica is willing to complain because I'm such a pushover.

Before heading south we stopped to take a short hike to the Cape Disappointment light house. It was a nice walk through the woods along the coast until it became a concrete uphill slab associated with the Coast Guard. Afterward, we headed toward Portland where we spend a few hours at the Saturday Market under the Burnside Bridge. It was really hot, but we wandered around through the crowds and then went to Powell's Books where we usually can both easily spend a few hours. I stood in the metaphysical section and listened to a couple argue over the buying of books. "Well, did you read the last one you bought?" the woman snipped at her husband. She was scolding him for buying books and he was just taking this berating from her. I glanced over my shoulder to see if she was actually wearing his testicles as earrings. Good god, people, get out of here and go to the library and fight. I digress. She made me feel so guilty that I didn't buy anything either. I told you I was a pushover.

After a stop in Eugene for a Trader Joe's run, we got home about 10:30pm. It's still been pretty hot until today when it started to rain.

And now, for the slideshow:

It's Killin' Time!

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 18:10:09 GMT

Hooray! The gray wolf is no longer on the Federal Protection list for endangered species. What can that mean? Well, we can go out and kill them again!

Idaho, Montana and Wyoming have already developed plans for hunts. So, if you've been hankering for some good tasty wolf steaks--after all, hunters always eat what they hunt, right?--get yourself up to one of these fine states and sign up for the next ~~murdering rampage~~ hunt.

Hmm, I did a search for Wolf recipes and I didn't come up with much. I found this one:

WOLF CHILI PIE

4 c. corn chips
2/3 c. chopped onion
1 1/2 c. shredded Colby or cheddar cheese
19 oz. can Wolf brand chili without beans

Layer 2 1/2 cups of corn chips, onion, 3/4 cup cheese and chili in a 1 1/2 quart casserole. Top with remaining corn chips. Bake in preheated moderate oven (375 degrees) about 25 minutes. Top with remaining cheese and continue baking 5 minutes. Garnish with sour cream and ripe olives (optional).

But, strangely, it contains no wolf meat.

So if anyone has any recipes for wolf, I'd be happy to post them.

Be a man; kill a wolf. Get them back on the endangered list.

What Does TSA stand for anyway?

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 18:09:38 GMT

Tit Searchers Anonymous?
Woman forced to remove nipple rings in airport security.

The woman involved -- Mandi Hamlin -- told reporters earlier Friday she was humiliated by last month's incident, in which she was forced to painfully remove the piercings behind a curtain as she heard snickers from male TSA officers nearby. The incident occurred at the Lubbock, Texas, airport.

Well, guess who has a just a little too much power? This is why it takes so long to get through airport security. The idiots are busy tormenting people to remove their body piercings and searching baby diapers (yes, this actually happened to a friend of mine) because, I guess, they are soooo dangerous on a plane. Nipple rings. Breast feeding. On a plane? What is the world coming to?

Everybody loves boobs

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 17:42:39 GMT

Mom kicked off plane for breast feeding her baby.
Are you kidding me with this? What is the issue that people have about breast-feeding? Let's break it down very simply, shall we?
We are mammals. Mammals, by definition--(Thank you, National Geographic): Any of various warm-blooded vertebrate animals of the class Mammalia, including humans, characterized by a covering of hair on the skin and, in the female, milk-producing mammary glands for nourishing the young.

Oh, my god, what are these bunnies doing????

And this orangatan??

And the worst of all, this shameless mother panda. Good lord, is that a breast???

I know, we shouldn't stoop to this animalistic behavior. After all, who would support the 3 million dollar a year salary of Nestle, maker of baby formula? Do you think the CEO wants you to use free healthy, natural breast milk for your baby? Barbaric. No, we are more civilized than this. We humans want it known that breasts are SEX OBJECTS and should be treated solely as such. Yep, we know the real reason for breasts: For adolescent fun and mockery, of course.

Feeding babies? Ridiculous and repulsive.

Someone rescue me.

bad friend

Fri, 28 Mar 2008 16:02:43 GMT

Sorry I've been a bit lax on my comments. It's been so nice out, I hate to be inside. I'm on my 40hr work stretch this weekend, but I hope to sneak a few peeks onto LJ. Have a great weekend!

funny stuff

Wed, 26 Mar 2008 17:35:29 GMT

Error Messages You don't want to see

Happy Birthday, Grandma

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 16:02:50 GMT

Today would have been my grandmother's 96th birthday. Sadly, she died 40 years ago at age 56 from metastatic breast cancer. I was five, but I remember quite a bit about her. I remember her making donuts: chocolate and lemon. She's probably responsible for my coffee addiction because she used to make me "baby coffee," primarily milk and sugar, tinted with coffee. Once I was in her room while she was changing her clothes and I saw a scar between her chest and shoulder. I asked her about it and she explained that when she was 11 a man in her neighborhood was cleaning his gun and it went off while she was standing on a sidewalk and hit her in the shoulder. I recall being horrified that someone had shot my grandmother.

She was pretty progressive for her time. When my mom got pregnant with me she told my father he didn't have to marry my mother because pregnancy was a stupid reason to get married. People should marry because they want to be together. She had raised my mom and uncle by herself when my grandfather walked out on them when my mom was four. My father returned to his hometown for a while, but returned to marry my mother because he wanted to. I sometimes wonder how life would have been if I'd been raised by my grandmother without my father around.

Most of all, I learned the word cancer at an early age. It's the monster that robbed us of these last 40 years that I wish my grandmother could have been with us. I would like to think she'd be proud of me now. Deep down--or not so deep down--I've always felt she's been a presence in my life, possibly keeping me from being killed a few times, and generally watching over me. I know that whereever she is she's no longer in pain. Pain was everpresent for her, but the only way you knew it was the presence of Anacin bottles and the smell of Ben-Gay. She believed she was fighting arthritis when, in fact, she was losing a battle against bone cancer. I know she's happy and whole now.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 02:07:09 GMT

Last night Monica surprised me with tickets to see the OSF's Midsummer Night's Dream. I had wanted to see it, but had no idea I'd be seeing it so soon. We had excellent seats, 5th row middle and the play was hilarious, campy, and entertaining. The "fairies" seemed so familiar to me for some reason. I swear the director of this play has been to the same gay bars I went to in the early 90's.

Monica is pretty sure that the Shakespeare purists are going to have a big fat stroke over this production, but the audience seemed to enjoy it immensely. I think Shakespeare would be pleased.

So Now I'm Autistic?

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 02:05:48 GMT

I have no idea what any of this means:

Your neurodiversity (Aspie) score: 126 of 200
Your neurotypical (non-autistic) score: 91 of 200
You are very likely an Aspie (neurodiverse)

Diagnostic prediction for Score Prediction
Social phobia 136 You very likely will be able to receive the diagnosis
ADD/ADHD (Attention Deficit Disorder) 125 You very likely will be able to receive the diagnosis
Bipolar 115 You will probably be able to receive the diagnosis
OCD 97 This isn't a primary diagnosis you should seek
Asperger/HFA/PDD 79 This isn't a primary diagnosis you should seek
Dyslexia 68 This isn't a primary diagnosis you should seek

Stupid shirt

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 16:53:00 GMT

I'm either your ER nurse or I'm here to help you with your erectile dysfunction.

RIP

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 23:29:53 GMT

Lara, the girl who OD'd last week before I went on my trip died on Friday. What a tragedy.
I'm kind of mad at her.

I'm Back

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 05:11:44 GMT

I have returned from a short hiatus... I escaped to California for a wonderful few days. Enjoyed sunshine and surf in Santa Barbara and then 24 hours in San Francisco. Hit most of our favorite haunts in San Fran. House of NanKing for dinner. Had a blast walking through Chinatown, buying trinkets and then to City Lights Books. We even spotted Lawrence Ferlinghetti
at Caffe Trieste. Naturally, we topped off our evening with a nightcap at Vesuvio
Here are a few photos:

Your mama would be so proud because she's probably an idiot as well

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 01:17:40 GMT

Warning: Disturbing Video:

To USMC David Mortari of Monroe, Washington,

You are a disgrace to your country and your uniform. You are a sick piece of shit who deserves to have your putrid head sawn off with a dull knife. I hope you scream more than that puppy when it happens. If there is a god in heaven, you'll never get home from Iraq alive.

I'm so glad we sent a surge of soldiers over to Iraq to entertain themselves by killing and torturing defenseless animals. Fuckwads.

Thoughts throughout my day

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 00:45:13 GMT

I vacillate between anger and sadness. Lara had been so positive and wanting to make a change for herself and her son. She moved here to get away from the destructive cycle. I gave her credit for getting out of a bad relationship, yet she spiraled out of control anyway. She told me how she'd overcome a severe illness involving her rheumatoid arthritis by cleaning up her act, eating better and not drinking. Maybe she was in too much pain to cope. All I know is she made a series of wrong choices and I'm angry at the legacy she'll leave her son. She's not expected to live. I haven't heard anything since this morning. A part of me wishes I'd paid more attention to the subtle clues, but I had no resources to help. Overall, I believe people have to help themselves. I'm learning now that her issues have been almost lifelong, according to her mom. Even her mom had given up hope of her getting her life back together. Too bad. She at least had a career.

I've been feeling out of sorts all day. I tried to concentrate on studying for ACLS.
It's the last thing I want to be thinking about.
I took the dogs to the dog park and enjoyed the sun at the park for a while. It was almost hot in the sun with my coat on. I watched the ducks in the pond for a while, just being mindless and trying to think about stuff.

Friday we're leaving for the central coast. Friends are getting together for my birthday. Perhaps I need a change of venue.

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 06:15:59 GMT

I Think I Killed My Co-Worker

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 02:54:27 GMT

Just one more thing to stress me out over this past weekend's festivities.
Last fall a new nurse, Lara, started working in our ER. She moved from the bigger city up north. Being the lovely human that I am, I tried to make her feel welcome, encouraged her in her new job, etc. She latched on to me a bit, which was fine. She was not typical and I found her interesting; she dyed her hair jet black and she wore things with little skulls on them and she had ink practically all over her body. She moved from the city to start a new life with her 3 year old son after leaving her abusive husband. She often prefaced anything she said with, "I'm going through a divorce..." as if we'd forget. She confided things in me very quickly, told me that she'd been addicted to drugs and alcohol, but was done with that. She told me she was interested in pursuing a relationship with women and wondered if I knew anyone. Later, I invited her to a gathering of single women, but she never showed up. She later told me her son was sick. Ok.
Then she started calling is sick a lot. Or leaving early. I began to get suspicious of her behavior when it got more erratic. I began to suspect she was using again and using on the job because she would complain about being "so tired." Her eyes were half-closed all the time and if she watched my patients while I was on lunch nothing would be done while I was gone. Orders would be pending and waiting. She simply stopped doing nursing care. I didn't want to leave my patients with her anymore. Other people started to talk and make comments about her possible drug use and how odd she was acting. One night she showed up in the ER complaining of insomnia. One day she can't keep her eyes open then she's coming in because she can't sleep. Then she called in sick again. Later she told us she'd been in an accident and had a terrible head injury and she still felt bad so she came to work, but left early. She repeated this pattern over and over. She tried to get other nurses to change shifts because she said she didn't have day care and she was afraid she'd lose her job. Management was starting to get suspicious as well. I'm pretty sure she was being monitored by the charge nurses and our department manager.

Our ER is divided into 2 areas: a major ER and a more urgent care area. They are run separately, each with their own nurses and doctor. The nurse from the urgent care side, M, who also happens to be my life partner, pulled me aside on Sunday and said, "Lara was in here a little while ago."
"Yeah?" I said. "What for?"
"She thought she was on the schedule, but she told me they were sending her home."
Oddly, I never saw Lara. I wasn't sure who would have sent her home since our charge nurse, Karen, would have been the one to send her.
"Then she went into the Omnicell (the medication dispenser) and pulled out some Maalox and told me she had really bad heartburn."
"That's strange."
"Yeah, I thought so too because she made a really big deal about it."
I began to wonder if she'd taken any other drugs out while she was pilfering Maalox.
I mentioned something to Karen when I got back from lunch. I said, "Did M talk to you?"
"What about?" Karen asked.
"About Lara coming in and you saying you sent her home."
Karen's eyes got wide. "Lara was here??" She turned and went directly to M to find out what was going on. "I'll tell M I broke your arm for information. Don't worry. Act wounded."
When Karen returned I said, "I didn't know you didn't send Lara home."
Karen said to me simply, "She's toast."
I surmised she must have pulled out more than Maalox and the machine, of course, records every transaction, including the patient the drug is ordered for, the nurse's name and time it was pulled and whether or not all of it was used.

I'm finding information out directly, but I'm not supposed to know about it. Before I left yesterday evening, I noticed Lara's name had been removed from the schedule. No one said a thing. Karen said, "Well, there are going to be lots of open shifts."
M told me after work that they had discovered that Lara had used 2 different patient names to withdraw 2 vials of Class I narcotics, pretty much a federal offense. On the way home, M was kind of freaked out. "She probably got the call today that she no longer has a job. She's going to think I ratted her out. What if she comes and tries to kill me?"
I didn't think Lara would find M and kill her, but I couldn't be sure. I began to regret giving my number and address to Lara when I invited her to go out with us when I first met her.

This afternoon, we were both home and the phone rang. It was our scheduler wanting us to work. M talked to her, but I did not. Basically, she was wanting us to fill the vacancy that Lara's firing is leaving. After M hung up the phone she came into the bedroom and said to me, "I won't have to worry about Lara coming to kill me."
"Why?"
"She was brought into the ER in cardiac arrest."
Those are all the details I got. We're pretty sure she either OD'd or tried to commit suicide.

EDIT. I spoke to Karen. The management had not even told Lara about her job. Apparently, Lara's parents told her child's father that Lara was acting weird and the father came down and got the kid and took him away which is what pushed her over the edge. They haven't completely ruled out foul play because she also had a huge laceration on her head.

Mon, 03 Mar 2008 17:45:08 GMT

Just popping in to say hello. I'm on my last 8 hours of work in a few minutes. Last night turned into HELL again. Another self-inflicted gunshot wound to the chest. They cracked his chest and had everything strewn all over the room. It looked like a freaking "Dexter" episode. Meanwhile, the rest of the patients got ignored while 3 doctors tried to revive the guy. What a mess. I was stumbling, stupid exhausted when I got home and fell into bed, but couldn't fall asleep with visions of that dead guy fileted open. Crap, I'm nauseated.

Still Alive

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 15:23:00 GMT

It's been so nice to have a few days off. It would be nicer if I wasn't sick half the week. Late Monday night I developed some pleuritic pain. I rode it out for nearly 24 hours before the knife dragging over my lung with every breath got to be a bit much. I had M take me to the ER where I got a dose of Solu-Medrol. They always want to do CT's and a million other tests that are a waste of time, but the doctor was agreeable to doing the minimum. I could not figure out why I'd get this pain because I've been going to the gym and I've not been getting pain with exercise like I was before my angioplasty. The doctor suggested something that hadn't been mentioned to me before: Perhaps I just don't get enough blood flow to the outer lung which causes tiny infarcts and then causes me to have pain. They did a chest X-ray and the report said that my stents were "possibly fractured." It doesn't give me a lot of faith when the radiologist can't read an chest x-ray that shows TWO stents. How would I fracture my stent? Anyway, the shot of steroids has gotten me back among the breathing, but the steroids have ripped apart my stomach. I've been doubled over with cramping for the past few days. I'm coming onto 45 next week and I guess I'm falling apart. Today has been better. I'm taking some Prilosec with with the prednisone now so I think it's helping. I think I scare the hell out of everyone when these things happen. Sorry.

In my downtime, I've toyed with my website. Check it out.

I'm hoping I'll be in better shape next week as we are going to be taking a trip to the central coast to visit some friends. We are leaving next Friday and will be there until the following Wednesday. Hope to see many of you!

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 06:29:00 GMT

Stolen from serrahok

1. Go to www.photobucket.com (don't sign in)
2. For each question below, type your answer in the "search" box and hit ENTER
3. Use only the first page of hits that come up and select a picture. If no matches are found to your search query you can revise your answer.
4. Copy the html for the photo you select and paste it in your LJ post.

1. What's Your First Name?

2. What's Your Favorite Food?

3. Where Did You Go To School?

4. What's Your Relationship Status?

5. What's Your Favorite Colour?

6. Who's Your Celebrity Crush?

7. Who Are You Listening To Right Now?

8. Favourite Movie?

9. Favourite Book?

10. Favourite Disney Princess?

11. Favourite Drink?

12. Where's Your Dream Vacation?

13. What's Your Favourite Dessert?

14. What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up?

15. What Do You Love Most In Life?

16. One Word To Describe Yourself?

mmm mmmm mmmm

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 22:02:33 GMT

I don't know why I like this song

That's why the call it WORK

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 18:15:30 GMT

I spent most of Saturday taking care of a trauma patient who crushed his arm when his pick-up truck rolled over, then a code blue followed by a 20 year old gunshot wound to the throat.

At first we were told that the gunshot wound was self-inflicted. The EMS brought the guy in under CPR. Everytime they'd do compressions, blood would pour out of his neck wound. In the neck wound they had placed an airway so they could give him oxygen. They simply used the bullet hole. Dr. C starts yelling immediately to get blood going so I grabbed the uncrossmatched blood and replaced the normal saline with it. There must have been 12 people at the bedside. We flipped the guy over to see where the bullet exited only to find a large hole in his thorax where the bullet came out. About that time, the police came in and told us that it probably wasn't a suicide because there was no gun around and the guy was found slumped in a corner near his entertainment center. Someone came in and shot him point-blank in the throat and left him there to die.

Then Dr. C is yelling at me to get the rapid infuser going and give the blood. The rapid infuser is a machine that delivers blood and IV fluid under pressure through a warmer. The infuser can warm and infuse fluids at rates from 75 to 30,000 mL/h (Sims Level 1, Inc., Rockland, Ma). The tubing is made of soft plastic that expands to allow rapid infusion of fluids under pressure. Some rapid infusers include automated pressure chambers to compress IV bags. Pressure is main-
tained at a constant 300 mmHg. Basically, a liter bag can run in under 5 minutes and a unit of blood can run in under 3 minutes. The object is to keep the fluids running without allowing air to enter the system so there are a series of clamps. The set up is similar to this:

But more sophisticated. Basically, one side runs in and then you switch to the other side while you change the previous bag. I was alternating blood and bottles of saline. When the blood would empty, I'd switch to saline while I put up another bag of blood. Somehow, my clamping was off a bit. I must have turned clamped it off to the patient because I saw air in the system, but then the saline, under pressure, began to fill up the empty blood bag on the opposite side. The bag swelled like a balloon about to burst. I didn't want it to burst so I clamped everything off, removed the bloody bag and, like an idiot, pulled the spike out and it was still under such force that bloody saline sprayed all over everything. I mean everything: me, the walls, the phone, the papers, the lead aprons that were hanging nearby. It ran down the walls and pooled all over the floor under where I was working. Everyone else was so busy working on the patient that they didn't notice what happened but I looked like something out of Saw VI. I grabbed towels in an attempt to mop up some of the bloody fluid, but it was futile. By the end of my shift and after they finally took the kid to surgery to give him a substantial airway, was when we really saw the extent of my blood explosion. I had nightmares all night about it and how I could have prevented it from happening and, honestly, I'm still not sure exactly what happened.

La Vie en Rose

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 18:14:03 GMT

Last night we watched La Vie en Rose on DVD. I had only heard of French singer Edith Piaf briefly. She died the year I was born. Marion Cotillard was amazing and deserves an Oscar for her performance. The movie, however, did not give me much empathy for Edith Piaf. I suppose I should view it as a "triumph of the human spirit" as she became quite famous after being raised by substance abusing parents and prostitutes, none of which seemed to be ideal role models. I didn't feel for her at all. She acted like a spoiled diva most of the time, treated her assistants like crap, slept with another woman's husband and was most likely, out of her selfishness, the cause of his death. I know. It takes two to tango. The point is she reminded me of so many of my patients. Mostly the ones I find it hard to care about because they're manipulative and think the world owes them something. Granted, Piaf had an amazing voice, but she abused her talent and her gift, which is something that I find unforgivable. Her death at age 47 was a result of years of self abuse with alcohol and drugs. Anyway, if you're in the mood for yet another addicted musician movie, check out "La Vie en Rose."

Attention Women-Loving-Women

Fri, 01 Feb 2008 03:42:20 GMT

A webring for lesbian homepages, blogs, and personal websites.

My Painting

Thu, 31 Jan 2008 00:34:27 GMT

Appropriated from krazyleesa

Click here to create your own painting.