The post-it reads “call is my hobby”.

Judging by the handwriting on the post-it, I would say this was written in 2020. Long before there was a call only position at the hospital.

This is the nearly one year anniversary of this gig.

And I love it.

Can I say that, and not tempt fate? Or the red pen in the budgetary process?

I think this is a service to the department and to our coworkers. No one likes call (except me, the PACU call nurse, and the call scrub tech, and the call ENDO nurse), the four of us have done the bulk of the call for the last year. Except for the odd vacation, or holidays, or random days off.

I know that this was started in an effort to attract and retain nurses/techs from going to where there is no call, or the ambulatory surgery centers. Well, I think that was the reason the call position was started. No one has ever came out and told me this was the case.

According to the master list of Dispatches from the Evening Shift posts, yesterday would have been the last day of my old life. The one where I worked entirely too many hours, all the hours that were actually, and took all the call. And did weekly meetings for various committees.

In truth, I had been feeling a bit stale, and a bit put upon by my own coworkers. They just expected me to be able to take ALL the call, sometimes toward the end without asking. I was also feeling hemmed in by changes in the department, changes that I didn’t necessarily buy into. Frankly, it was the call job, or leave the hospital.

And call is my favorite.

And if this ride were to end, I have plans of what to do next. Ideally, it would not end until I have graduated with my PhD. But I don’t know that. I would chose a sister hospital in the system to work for. And find a position that allows me the greatest amount of time for schoolwork. Because positions are still open and departments are begging for staff, especially in those hard to fill shifts. I don’t want to, but I could.

Really, why would it? There is still a nursing shortage. And us call people are the most stable of them all. And the least whiny.

Since beginning the call job, I applied to and was accepted at a state university PhD in nursing program.

I applied to and was accepted to be a writer for a new online publication that will be debuting in February.

I slowed down tremendously in the amount of nurse work that I do. Something had to change in my workaholic ways, and I consciously slowed myself down. Could I have gotten a day shift job somewhere and worked both? Yes, but I knew that would be counter-productive regarding my plans to go back to school.

Call is still my hobby, and my work.

I only wish more people weren’t afraid of it. Perhaps not, it takes a certain personality to do this all the time. I don’t mind the pager, or the unpredictability of case volume.

Call is still my favorite.

And the cats’ favorite too because I am at home more than I ever have been in my working life.

Who knows what the future will bring?

But, I can assure you and myself, that call will be a part of it.

Let’s talk money, shall we?

I have always said after finishing my masters that I would be interested in a PhD IF I didn’t have to pay out of pocket for it.

Yay! You got into your first pick college. Or second, it’s all to be celebrated.

Now, I am sure you have done the sensible thing and gone to a community college to get the pesky general ed classes out of the way.

No?

That’s okay.

There are still little known scholarships to obtain.

Did you know that Mashalls, before they were owned by TJ Maxx, used to be owned by a pharmaceutical company? Definitely. Do I remember which one? No. But they gave me a $4,000 scholarship to start my college journey with.

The first tip is to ask your employer about scholarships they offer. And follow up that question with when is the application period open? Don’t ask how much, that is gauche. Any scholarships are a gift.

If you are a teenager looking toward college, ask your parents if the company they work for has a scholarship program for dependents of employees. They might, but not advertise it.

You can google scholarships and there are many clearing house type of companies who can help you tap into scholarships. These tend to the younger crowd, high schoolers, first time college students, minorities, perceived minorities (such as men going into nursing), military. You get the idea.

It isn’t a bad thing to join one of these sites. Be prepared for a LOT of email queries. In fact, use an alternate email and check it often. An example of these sites is Scholarship Owl. I’ve not gotten any scholarship money out of them, but I recognize that I am not their target audience. Someone, presumably, is getting the scholarships, it is just not me.

You can also search scholarship on Pinterest. There are many other sites that are not Scholarship Owl.

If, like me, you are a nurse looking to go back to school, apply at the state level Board of Nursing. Can’t hurt.

Or apply to the professional organization scholarship that you belong to. I did, and I am anticipating $2,000 at the end of the semester.

And the last tip, which should be near the beginning, is ask the college that you will be attending if there are any scholarships that you qualify for. They want students, and some make it easier for them to attend. The university I am attending now has a scholarship that, if I agree to teach on a collegiate level at an accredited school for 4 years, I will get 85% of the tuition cost paid for. This is the best deal that I have found. There are many, many, many accredited nursing schools. And they are desperate for instructors. There is a nursing instructor shortage, which is compounding the nurse shortage. Can’t graduate nurses if there is no one to teach them.

Apply early, apply often for scholarships. You never know when your number will come up and you are the new recipient of money for college.

Medical terminology is sometimes shrouded in veils of mystery. Because, you know, we have our own language. And when studying in nursing school or medical school it can be useful to use mnemonics.

These are the letters that spell out a meaningful phrase. At least meaningful to the medical type people.

When I was at Creighton at 19, the boys would giggle at the mnemonic for naming the cranial nerves.

1. Olfactory
2. Optic
3. Occulomotor
4. Trochlear
5. Trigeminal
6. Abducens
7. Facial
8. Auditory
9. Glossopharyngeal
10. Vagus
11. Spinal accessory
12. Hypoglossal

Not very giggle worthy, but if you took the first letter from each to make a new word to make a sentence. Oh, Oh, Oh, To Touch And Feel …

This would end in something naughty, or not. You get the idea.

Medical Mnemonics, helping teenagers study for anatomy tests since the dawn of anatomy tests.

There are others in the medical field.

There is the 8 letter mnemonic for the bones of the wrist.

Not all of medical mnemonics are anatomical.

Sometimes they are used in different contexts.

ABC- for the steps of CPR, which is another one.

APGAR, used in maternity wards.

SOAP and SOAPIE, which is how I learned to write a nursing diagnosis.

SBAR which is used to get information out in a systematic manner.

These are very useful, and intentional communication aids.

That most medical type people will understand.

This was a texting language before texting was a glimmer in Friedhelm Hillebrand and Bernard Ghillebaert’s eyes. These men are inventors of texting in 1984. You can thank them later.

Or Samuel Shem who wrote about tongue in cheek mnemonics for House of God. That is the O-sign if you want to know. There’s a post about that sometime in Dispatches’ past.

All the way back to the 1920s and Otto Neurath and the Isotype Pictograph language.

I bet this was the modern beginning of emojis.

If there is a way to shorthand information, nursing and medicine have found it and utilized it. Because it is a way to disseminate needed information in a rapid manner. To be understood by people who need to know.

And it isn’t just medical mnemonics, the military have been doing this for years.

Did you know that the original Jeep stood for general purposes? Or Gee Pee.

If we didn’t have a way to explain complex, emergent situations, we, and the patients, would be FUBARed.

Help!

There’s an imposter in my house.

My mental house that is.

No, not really, but imposter syndrome is a real thing that impacts many people daily. So many people, maybe even you. Probably you if you are in healthcare.

According to the American Psychological Association, it is the chronic feeling of inadequacy, despite being a high achiever.

To put simply it is the incorrect belief that you do not belong there. No matter where there is. It might be a corporate office, or a hospital department, or, oh I don’t know, a grad school.

Despite the hours you’ve worked to get to the office, or the hospital department you want to work in. Or the application process for a grad school program. All of that says you belong here, otherwise you would not be there.

But our gut tells us that we do not belong. That all of the accolades, and praise, and maybe high grades that got us there, were lying. Or misrepresenting us.

Because we are not a person who deserves to be where we are.

It is the ultimate mind-fuck.

But, Kate, if I feel I don’t belong even if I do, what can I do about it?

Lie to yourself. After all, your mind is lying to you.

Act as if you do belong. Because you do.

Be confident that you belong where you are. See above point.

Be aware that your brain is lying to you. You do belong.

I could be glib and tell you to keep reminding yourself that you do belong.

And, maybe, eventually you’ll believe it.

Stop wasting the mental and emotional energy on thoughts and feelings that you don’t belong. Someone obviously thought you did.

Believe in yourself and your abilities.

It is best to have yourself in your own corner.

You have this, you belong, you are not in the wrong place.

Most importantly, it will be okay.

The post-is reads ‘finding that spark for engaging with patients, especially young adults’.

All ages can be difficult to engage with, but the young adults from 13-22 are especially hard. It is like a forcefield of apathy.

Recently I had a young adult patient who was scared out of their mind about the impending surgery. No conversational gambits worked. Not even the usual: school, pets, siblings. Nothing, they just sat their, unmoving. Except for their eyes that saw everything.

I usually talk school; what grade, favorite subject, exams.

Nothing.

For the younger crowd I try siblings, or pets.

Tried those too.

Nothing.

I made a comment to the surgeon, away from the patient, while they were being interviewed by anesthesia. A comment about the soon to be released newest Marvel movie. The surgeon and I are big fans, and always talk plot points, and acting choices, and actor critiques.

To my surprise, the patient turned their head toward us and blurted out that they wanted to see that movie too!

Completely different patient, with one stray comment that wasn’t even directed at them.

Two lessons reinforced

1. patients are ALWAYS listening
2. Marvel transcends fear

We spent the next ten minutes talking superheroes until it was time to head back to the OR.

And picked up with the conversation after surgery was over and they were a bit more awake.

And chatted happily about heroes, and villains.

Oh, my.

There is always a lever to get a patient to talk to you.

It is just a matter of finding it.

The semester is drawing to a close.

And you know what means.

End of semester tests.

And papers.

So many pages.

It seems like we had just gotten through midterms.

But where there is a midterm, there will be a final.

Kind of like peanut butter and jelly, they apparently go together. I tried.

How to support your student while they study for the end of semester tests.

Be patient.

If the test in in-person, consider driving them to the test. If you have time to spare and want to wait around for the test to be over.

If the test is a virtual one, essentially an open book test, give them space and time to work on the problems. And encouragement to work on the test a little bit every day.

Otherwise their head may spin on the due date; obviously because they did not work on the test in a timely manner.

Reassure them that it is going to be okay.

Do not let them obsessively add up the semester points to see what will be required for the grade they want.

Caffeine will probably be key.

And sleep.

And if they are hip deep in reference books, and bunches and bunches of notes, muttering to themselves as they tear the paper with their erasing, take a deep breath yourself.

And remember this will pass.

And hopefully they will pass.

The test, of course.

I had to amend that because so many people use pass as a synonym for dying.

November theme of fall for Cookie Thursday is a Thing continues. Today’s bake is Pumpkin Quickies.

This was a recipe developed in the 1965, according to B. Dylan Hollis whose YouTube channel is where I found the recipe. I wanted something different than the normal pumpkin cookie recipe.

And these did not disappoint.

Except that y’all know that I do not like box mixes. Or you should. I don’t even have bisquik in the house. And spice cake mix is impossible to find. I went to 4 grocery stores. The selection of box mixes has dwindled dramatically in recent years.

I had a recipe of spice cake mix, and a can of pumpkin puree. That’s it.

Mix and bake at 350 degrees for 12 minutes. That is the entirety of the recipe. And the resulting cookies are cake-like, and springy and soft. Not too bad, will definitely make it onto next year’s fall recipes for Cookie Thursday is a Thing. Maybe with the addition of chocolate chips.

But you don’t want to get too fancy with such a simple recipe. Definitely not drown in out with other flavors, like caramel, or too much chocolate.

Sometimes simple is good.

Like many things in the OR, the recipe is deceptively simple: spice cake box mix and pumpkin puree. That’s it. There are cases in the OR that are that simple, but have a profound effect on patient’s lives. I’m looking at you, carpal tunnel release.

I call them the knife and fork cases. Simple enough cases (no case in the OR is ever simple), that ORs have been doing for years and years and years, with hardly any change in technique or instrumentation. Another that comes to mind is the slash and suck. That is what I call abscess drainage; basically you poke a hole in the big collection of purulent matter, and you suck out what is in there.

I deliberately left the case description to the end because some people might find it nauseating.

But I would argue a good slash and suck is sometimes the best outcome for the patients.

Nothing fancy. Because sometimes that is all you need.

Hello and welcome to the perioperative nurses’ week 2022!

There will be cake later.

But this is a check in with the state of our worklife.

How is your work life balance?

Do you get enough sleep?

Do you get enough exercise?

Do you drink enough water?

The answer is a resounding laugh, I am sure.

You can still hear it echoing in the ORs.

But, seriously, how is your staffing?

Is the nursing shortage brought on by other hospitals and travel agencies still on fire?

Health care is in a strange flux right now.

The pandemic is still going strong, especially with the diabolical twins influenza and RSV. I get strange looks everyday when I wear a mask into stores. Don’t care but there you have it. And the newest hilarious gambit is to pretend they can’t hear me.

Bitch, please.

I’ve been wearing a surgical mask in my workaday world for over 20 years. And if the operative field and the CRNA can hear me over the loud music, the suction noises, and the bovie drone, you absolutely can hear me. Stop. It makes you look foolish.

But it makes you feel good. Whatever.

Inflation is still going on. Not as hellacious as it was but still. Prices and life are expensive.

And there is the little matter of an unprovoked war in Ukraine dragging on food prices, and oil prices. That’s been a bundle of joy for the economy.

All we can do is hope it will get better. Life, prices, the war in Ukraine, the pandemic that people have forgot, even as it kills people, staffing. All of it.

Because as Jyn Urso says in Rogue One, a Star Wars story, “We have hope. Rebellions are built on hope.”

But this week is ours to celebrate us. Surgeries could not happen without the expertise of the OR nurse and we matter.

We impact patient care every time a surgeon picks up a scalpel and you call for the surgical pause before incision.

There will most likely be cake in your future. Even if you have to make it yourself.

I fell into a rabbit hole of my own writing this weekend. When I should have been working on my statistics homework. At the bottom of every blog post, there is a posts related to selection of previous posts.

These are not necessarily related to other posts.

I don’t know why the program thinks so.

I wended deeper and deeper into Dispatches from the Evening Shift archives.

And I say a post about the patients that I carry.

This was a small series I wrote in 2019 about patients who I remember. The first one I highlighted was my very first patient in clinical in 1994. I remember her well.

And that got me to thinking about a patient I had a few years ago, prior to the now customary alerts on the computer regarding gender, and sex, and name changes.

It was a patient who was in the computer system twice.

Same name, same birthday, same address, different genders.

Obviously they were in twice because they were transitioning and the system had not yet been updated.

The CRNA was breathing down my neck about choosing the one that the CRNA felt matched the birth certificate.

And that made me very uncomfortable. Not because they are in the middle of transition. Because this was a person who had made a deliberate and, I’m sure agonizing, choice to present as something else.

But because the CRNA would not fathom that this might be a thing. Their mind was so small that to suggest that it could be a thing enraged them.

And made for a very long case, with them fuming, after the case started and the patient was asleep about how the patient obviously was confused and needed to be taught the ways of the world. The ways that the CRNA felt it should be done.

This patient had to withstand snide comments prior to the case, with the CRNA losing their mind over the possibility that this was the patient’s choice and not the CRNA’s choice.

This was several years ago and the me of today would never have stood for it. I would have used my polite words to tell the CRNA that the patient needed to be cared for in the moment, regardless of how the CRNA thought about it. Definitely not in front of the patient, like the CRNA was doing. And I would have reported the CRNA at the end of the case.

Because people are different. And it is not any of my business what they do with their own lives. All we can do, as health care workers, is honor their choice. Their burden is hard enough without me weighing it down more with judgement.

I think this is a timely musing, as the country is currently embroiled in a witch hunt against people who are different.

Because people are different and that’s okay.

I’ll say it louder if I have to, so the ones with their heads in the sand or fingers in their ears can hear.

I think about that patient now and again, especially when I see another patient alert in the computer system that a patient is non-binary, or prefers different pronouns. The healthcare systems are slowly changing to accommodate them.

I hope the patient from years ago is okay. And I hope they remember not the CRNA who othered them because they dared to be outside of what that CRNA felt was appropriate, but they remember that the care that they got when they needed it was compassionate.

At least, from the circulating nurse.

The post-it reads “Lap Chole patients when I was a new nurse, 40, fat, female, flatulent… certainly has changed”.

Before I graduated from nursing school in 2001, what was taught to the nursing students about the four Fs was that the usual gall bladder patient was over 40, was female, was fat, and suffered from flatulence. I distinctly remember this being a topic for a lecture day. And me, being 25, was sure I would never get there.

Um, honey?

Time happens to us all.

And that is not at all the case anymore.

If, indeed, it ever was.

Now that I have been working the OR for 21 years and have done many, many, many gallbladder removals, I can say that this is not the case.

The youngest gall bladder surgery I’ve been involved in was an 18 year old female. And the oldest was a 92 year old man.

This brings to mind so many research questions. Where did the mnemonic come from? Does age have anything to do with it? Does gender have anything to do with it? Is the increasing incidence of other patients that do not fit the mnemonic have anything to do with the now standard laparoscopic approach?

I know that cholelithiasis is a real health problem, impacting many people of all ages, and genders. I’ve seen necrotic gallbladders, and gallbladders with gallstones the size AND color of a robin’s egg. I’ve seen perfectly normal appearing gallbladders that were removed because we were there and the surgeon had thought that it was causing the patient’s symptoms. I’ve seen malignant gallbladders, this is sad and a serious cancer. I’ve casually suggested to a pregnant coworker that the pain under her ribs on the right side might be caused by a sluggish gallbladder (I was right). I’ve prodded my husband to get his gallbladder checked out at age 36 when he would not stop complaining about right sided shoulder pain after eating fast food.

But what I think bothers me about the mnemonic is the casual misogyny of it.

It reeks of there there little lady smugness. And the paternal surgeon who will fix this female.

Ugh.

In a published study from 2013, the group recognized that the age of 40 was no longer relevant. And they posit that the F word for family history be substituted. Published in a journal I had never heard of, but published all the same.

In a what came first the chicken or the egg thought, maybe more women are diagnosed because they are the ones who have the most contact with medicine type people. We all know men who would rather reattach their own thumb with a stapler than see a doctor. I know I certainly do. I also know women like this but women have been told it is better to see doctors more frequently for girly things. And women who are of childbearing age and internal parts are more likely to engage with healthcare providers because of pap smears and other gynecological care that is needed, including pregnancy.

Huh.

I will have to put that thought to bed until I have enough education to fully deal with it.

Take 2 tums and see be in three years when I am done with school.