The greatest generation among us

Mr. N. was a character. From the moment the referral nurses talked about him, they weren't really sure if he'd even make it to the Hotel. He was old. He was sick. He was unconscious. He was deaf as a post without his hearing aids. He was as we say, "day to day."

He lived and for a while, Mr. N. inhabited a bright sunny room, where he had a good view of the construction going on nearby. Once he got his hearing aids, he talked. He was very opinionated, having worked for one utility, he had a pretty good idea what was going on outside his window.

In a way, Mr. N. reminded me of my father. He had the same ethnic look and the same blue eyes. He also had a gravelly voice of a man who smoked a few Chesterfields in his day. We talked about a number of things once we connected. I could always ask if it was really true what the guys said about his battle (the "no purple hearts" part).

Mr. N. even introduced me to his children. I got to meet all of them, including the bossy daughter ("she runs everything" he said). They were nice. They were amazed that their dad did as well as he did.

One day, Mr. N. came to see me, looking for change to get a soda. I didn't have any so I checked his chart.I realized he was not diabetic, so I offered him the soda Bubba made me take to work, in case I got snowed in.

His eyes brightened when he saw it. "Ooh!" he said. "The good stuff. Sierra Mist." He thanked me and rolled away down the hall for a cup of ice.

Mr. N. came by to see me when it was time to discharge. He said, "I hope to see you again. Thanks for everything." and winked. He left the next day to go to the nursing home.

We were told the other day that Mr. N's "bossy" daughter called. He had passed away in his sleep that day. His weak heart finally gave out. This week, with more than 500 others each day, he joined history. 

And I am thankful I have one more story about World War II to cherish, told by a man who made history in the Battle of the Bulge.

You just gotta ask

Yes, we ask on our admission form if you have any guns, knives or other contraband items when you come to the Hotel.

Dr. Grumpy has an article about what happens when you don't.

Moral of the story: NEVER assume. (ever)

Hard to swallow

It's not uncommon for rehab patients to have swallowing problems. Many times, swallowing issues are due to illness, age, surgery or trauma.

I've had some weird feelings in my esophagus, but never anything like this poor lady described in a LiveScience article.

Stay tuned...

How I live

In spite of some of the crap I had to deal with today, it wasn't as crazy as usual this Wednesday. Our RPIA (Royal Pain In the Arse) secretary actually scheduled the right amount of people. This is the first time this year. She, as usual, copped an attitude when I asked her to do something that was clearly her job. I'm just trying to make documentation of her errors easier to do. I would like to spend more time being an RN rather than a secretary babysitter.

On another crap note, the big boss attended our monthly meeting and determined that crap was the word of the day in reference to said secretary. Boss has his/her own plans on replacements, but not sure if/when that will ever happen.

So despite not having to deal with actual live crap in the SU like on the  floor, it's mainly a mental exercise in living well. Do little things with great love I've read (according to Mother Teresa), so I realized that's how I survive.

This week Bubba and I visited Giacomo and got him a diet-friendly present that doesn't elevate his blood sugar. He was pleasantly surprised. Parts of it will even last until the Super Bowl rolls around.

When we weren't shopping for our friends, Bubba got his store-bought cupcakes to take to his evening class and some for school tomorrow. I packed his presents and if there's no snow, he'll trudge off  again with his cupcakes and goodies.

Finally, I really despise when our clerks let our older patients roam around and be in the wrong place. One patient was in our office waiting for an appointment that was clear across campus. (No one knew why he was still sitting there). I found out and called the other office. Even though Mr. X. was late (and some clinics cancel you if you're over 15 minutes late), they said they'd take him, since he was on the way. Score one for the little old character and the good people in the other campus clinic.

It made me think of this quote from Von Ryan's Express, an old war movie I liked as a kid, with Frank Sinatra, Trevor Howard and Edward Mulhare.

Maj. Eric Fincham: I once told you Ryan, if only one gets out, it's a victory.

Stay tuned....