Gravitas

Yesterday was Hand clinic, and I do a lot to help it run smoothly.  Then I got a call from the general orthopedic resident about a total joint patient on the floor - his dressing was saturated and the floor nurses were "freaking out." He was at his brother's event and couldn't get back easily. He's also gone out of his way many times both for staff and patients. So I gathered the dressing supplies, sterile gloves, and my most calm authority, and ran down there. 

The young nurse there was looking a bit panicked, but we took a look, and I know how to put a proper OR dressing on, spread calm assurance, and we took photos for the resident. Pt then asked to piss first, so we stood outside the door, waiting. The the older nurse supervising her rushes up to me. "I've never seen this before!"  Yeah, they actually were freaking out. I said, "Oh I have, not often, but I bet this is a little oozing skin bleeder."  Either missed at the end of surgery - or it was hiding because the tourniquet was still up. Or it was fine then, and opened up with movement later. Bodies are weird. 

Young nurse helped me set up, and stayed to open sterile supplies.  Floor sterile and OR sterile are very different levels of asepsis, I know the second type in my bones - and keeping this proper sterile is essential. 

Sure enough, one tiny spot that was just welling up. My new colleague took another photo and sent it to the resident. I cleaned it up, checked the whole incision line, I put steri-strips securely across the oozing bugger, redressed the whole line, over that, added extra padding to compress the one spot more, under an ACE bandage, cleaned up, thanked young nurse. Also spent the whole process chatting with the patient about what I saw, and what I was doing. 

And later, wrote it all up in a note. 

I'm really liking the nurse I've become.  I like that my white hair gives me visual gravitas. I like that my job includes so many random tasks. I like that my knowledge base is not wasted. 

 Just finished reading an amazing series of essays on Sparta. 

Bugrit

 It's been quite the week.  Dylan got the best of worst news, and there is another surgery in his near future. I told him that our tradition is broken bones, and to stop it.  I also spent last night with ideas for how to bandage an ear pinna that won't make him crazy. And this morning thought about TNR cats who get an ear clipped to identify them as such. 

He's being all brave and I'm working the problems, and we are both making jokes, because this is how we cope. I've also been leaking tears and having episodes of diarrhea. At least getting the time off work will be easy for both of us. And we have good insurance. 

 Bugrit millennium hand an' shrimp

Stare

 After a really interesting discussion with a friend at work, I began to think about the parish church of my childhood.  I disliked to abhorred mass, and took comfort wherever I could. Imagined swinging on the pendulum lights so high on the vaulted ceiling, the singing, the candles, the incense. Joined the choir, became an altar server, and a lector, just to avoid death by boredom. Mass was punishment, a chore, and I never went after I had a choice. 

The 'art' was no comfort at all.  It's not as clear in this image, but the queen of heaven always seemed to be rather critical and contemptuous, with her harsh stare. 

 

She's gone now, the church demolished this year.  There hadn't been a service there since 2017, due to dwindling parishioners. I hope the bricks got repurposed. 

It's not the worst religious art, all in all. At my grandmother's funeral, as I sat beside my father, and saw for the only time the church of his childhood, I realized it could have been much, much worse. I have not found an image of that church - in part because I have only the vaguest idea of which one it was. Sort of where, but no luck searching.  Maybe for the best. 

The church attached to my grade school had a mosaic, which seems not so bad at all. Colors are strong and clear, and it's not excessively gory.

High School parish church was much larger.  The main altar that I can find an image for is... well, looking at it now I'd say downright goofy. But I remember a lot of side art, more than the main one. And that was at least variety. 

I've come up with the theory that maybe 20-30% of people are believers, they need no proof, and even reject it, in preference to belief. They want gods, monarchs and other authoritarian systems to feel safe, whether or not they are the ruler. Another 30-40% don't much care either way, and are content to go along to get along. The remainder really want freedom, and live in a spirit of inquiry and tolerance, although they have no comprehension of mindset of the believers. 

Amazing we get anything done, really. 

Outstanding

 So, got my electronic review that I had to acknowledge and sign, with the rating "outstanding."  That's ok, right? 

It's been quite a year. I spent a big chunk of yesterday sending information to the new Fellows and working out the surgery schedules of my shoulder surgeons.  Then answering the new Foot & Ankle Fellow who seemed to be having difficulty with reading. Twice he emailed back asking the question I answered in my original email. So I copy/pasted the relevant information right under his question, from the body of the missive below. 

Doing a lot more organizing, setting up protocols for myself to keep better track of who is asking for what. Especially since I'm also getting a new shoulder attending surgeon, who is likely to have yet another set of preferences. This is where my experience of them in the OR comes in handy, I have a better idea what questions to ask, and ask again, and double check....

They can be a slippery bunch, but that is my job - to herd cats. 

Oh, and I have started this year's bunch of mandatory training modules. 

And I still don't really have enough to do to fill 40 hours a week, most of the time.  But I do have to be there to respond to alerts and answer questions and calls. I'm still learning, but the path is not as steep. It's better to keep some margin, for when there is a crisis and I need to respond thoroughly. Better not to be so stretched that I can't respond to a sudden rush. Being efficient so that I can glide.

I'm physically and emotionally in a better place than a year ago, oh so much improved. Coming down with Covid in April/May put me back a bit, but I've still gained ground.  My back is still an issue, it always will be, but it's stabilized. 

Maybe, maybe it'll be ok.