Don't you shiver

Once upon a time, there was a girl; a willfully humble persona, just taking each day as the stroke of a brush on a canvas.

There was a girl, who's conviction was clear.

Unclear, was her exchange with the world.

There was a girl, who's life was modest.

Unmodest, was her affinity for color and sound.

There was a girl, who's all was blessed.

Unblessed, was her desire for simplicity.

There was a girl, who's mind was open.

Unopen, was the door to certainty.

There was a boy, who's being was everything.

Everything that she needed.

Day of an ICU Nurse

I must state that no day of work for an ICU nurse is the same, they are like snowflakes, no two are identical. My usual pre-work morning routine consists of sleeping until the very last moment of time that will allow me to reach my destination (8th floor of the Jefferson Hospital for Neuroscience) 20 minutes early (on a good day). Of course, I'm not enthused about arriving to work early, but it is common courtesy to relieve the night shift nurse a bit early, or give him/her enough time to give report and then leave by 7 (the start of day shift or the end of night shift). Arriving to the destination is only a small fraction of the day. The rest of the day is unpredictable. There is no monotony; there is no repetition of days; and there are certainly no recurring expectations. There is no possible way to describe the rest. So I will leave it up to your imagination. I will; however, leave you with the following words: ventilators, alarms, phones, people, disappointment, orders, ordering, bowel movements, turns, running, trays, laughs, smiles, cries, frustrations, profanity, sighs, ventriculostomies, and brains.

The Fall of the Classic Union

The pen or the key? In this era of technological omnipotence, we are often bombarded with various creativity-fostering media. Usually this entails some sort of device with which to create, an entity that provides the tools and functions to best tailor our creations to please the human eye or mind, whichever you choose to appeal. Actually, sometimes I miss the classic union of pen and paper. Especially when I have to spend countless hours staring at a screen to painfully relearn most medical/nursing concepts for my job I spent a fortune learning at Penn Nursing, it really makes me miss a simple pen and paper. My eyes would certainly appreciate less strain. Though I guess typing this post on a PC is effortlessly contradictory. So what wins, technological progressivism, indirect tree-saving ventures, or preservation of our sight? I vote for a happy medium.

ICU delirium

I keep hearing cardiac alarms and ventilator noises in my sleep. I've officially crossed over.