It's Always the Nurse's Fault: Part II

This is a picture of me and my friend, Night Nurse, poolside in Las Vegas. I’m the one holding the drink. Yeah, in my dreams. Night Nurse and I were planning to take a trip to Las Vegas, but fortunately, things didn’t work out.

My day started out on a sour note. I had been summoned to a meeting on my day off, and the meeting’s outcome was going to determine my future plans. If the meeting went poorly, and I was suspended or fired, my immediate plans included a trip to Las Vegas with Night Nurse, who was also embroiled in this mess. We were going to see Wayne Newton and send our boss a postcard from Las Vegas that said, “Glad you’re not here.” Then, when we got back home, we were going to fill out job applications at McDonalds.


I arrived at the hospital at the appointed time for my execution. I had chest pain as I walked onto my unit, and I could feel my blood pressure going through the roof. Night Nurse walked by me humming, Viva Las Vegas. I shrugged my shoulders and walked back behind the nurses. Then I saw the boss walk in about 5 minutes later. She was carrying a pile of papers along with a huge box of donuts. A death sentence with donuts? Something didn’t add up. My boss said good morning in a singsong voice as she walked behind the nurses station and into the report room. Night Nurse and I followed her into the report room where we were shortly joined by the psychiatrist who was involved in the incident. I took that as a bad omen. He really looked pissed off when he sat down next to me at the table.


Things got weird really fast. First, the boss turned our private meeting into a general staff meeting. She threw open the door to the report room and cracked open the box of donuts. She used the donuts to entice the other nurses into the meeting. The boss looked bright and cheerful. The psychiatrist looked homicidal. The boss reviewed the restraint and seclusion policies, asked if we had any questions, and quickly adjourned the meeting. The psychiatrist abruptly stood up and stormed out of the room. When everyone had left the room, I leaned over the table and asked my boss, off the record, what had just happened. She said that I wasn’t in trouble, adding, “The hospital is backing the nurses.” Then she told me that the hospital is dealing with “the problem.” Judging by his demeanor, the problem had been sitting beside me in the meeting.

Night Nurse and I went to Bob Evans after the meeting. We had made prior arrangements to meet there so we could plan out our Las Vegas excursion. Instead, we used the time to discuss the historical event that had just taken place at our hospital. People, mark this day on your calendar. On July 9, 2008, a hospital sided with a small group of nurses and put a nasty little doctor in his place.


So much for Las Vegas. I guess Night Nurse and I will have to see Wayne Newton some other time.