The long goodbye

So I got this new job.

My last day at my current position is next Friday. I've been at this job for three years. I love all the people I work with, I just decided it was time for a change. So I got a job working in the intensive care unit. It's a change I've wanted to make for awhile, so I'm pretty excited.

At any rate, I would really like to leave quietly and with little fuss. However my coworkers aren't going to make that easy. Today a sign up sheet was hung in our breakroom for the Mexican themed pot luck that's being planned on my final day. (There's something really strange about that last sentence but I can't figure out what it is...) Now I would prefer that no potluck be held, but if I protest than I know I'll just seem ungrateful. I'm not ungrateful, I just don't like the attention.

I hate being the center of attention. I was recently nominated for "Nurse of the Year" at my hospital (I didn't win). I had to go to this ceremony and was called up to accept a certificate and some flowers. I was terribly embarrassed and just wanted it to be over. I was honored by the nomination, but felt it completely unnecessary. I do my job because I love what I do. I don't need an award.

So I'm expecting that my last day will be filled with long, emotional goodbyes. I mean my manager actually cried when I handed her my resignation. I'll be grateful and have a smile on my face, but secretly I'll just really want it to be over.

Because I said so!

One of the greatest pleasures I get at work is telling a physician “no”. Most physicians are used to getting what they want. They order something and expect it to be done. Normally this is the case, but sometimes I get to exercise my big charge nurse muscles and tell them to keep dreaming when they’ve ordered something ridiculous.

One doc ordered us to transfer a patient to ICU because he didn’t want the patient to fall out of bed.

I literally laughed out loud and almost spit my coffee across the nurses station when I heard this request.

I calmly explained to this young doctor that we couldn’t occupy a critical care bed because he was afraid of the patient falling. We have lots of other tricks to prevent that sort of thing from happening.

Today, a physician ordered 1 to 1 care for a patient. This means that the physician wanted someone to be at the bedside with this patient 24 hours a day. Now normally this sort of thing is reserved for our suicidal patients; you know, the ones who swallowed a whole bottle of Excedrin in a lame attempt to off themselves.

“Why does this patient require one to one care,” I asked.

“I’m afraid the patient will fall.”

Sigh.