Fired!

I would not be writing this particular blog, if I was worried about an employer seeing it.  But, I am an old lady who is retired and only working part-time for the fun of it, sooooooo…..

In the late 60s, I was in my senior year in college and paying my own way by working about 16 hours a week as a registered nurse at a local medical clinic.  It was a unique practice with a surgeon, internist, and obstetrician/gynecologist all seeing general medical patients and referring to each other as needed.  I worked two evenings per week and on Saturday ….almost always with one other nurse.  We might have one or two doctors to keep up with during a given time period.  We did all sorts of lab work right there, took X-rays and EKGs, helped put on casts and had many other nursing duties.

As the academic year was drawing to a close, and I was soon to graduate with a Bachelor’s degree, I resigned from this position.  I also had a wedding to plan, so my life was pretty full at that point.  However, I received a call from the person who hired the clinic nurses and coordinated their hours.  Although I had given plenty of notice, they had not been able to replace me in time.  She pleaded with me to work just one more Saturday, and I agreed.

The other nurse that Saturday had graduated one year after me from the same nursing school that I had, and we knew each other pretty well at that point.  We prepared for the day, but Dr. N who was the surgeon in the group and the only physician assigned that day, had not yet arrived, so we went into the employee lounge at the back of the clinic.  A window in that room gave us a view of the parking lot, and we saw Dr. N, who had a reputation for having a very short fuse, emerge from his car red-faced and scowling.  One of us commented that it wasn’t looking like it would be an easy day with him.

I had never had an incident with him before and felt I had always behaved professionally when working with him.  This included the time he came out of a patient’s room looking a bit dazed and said, “I think I am in atrial fibrillation.”  He turned to go to the next patient, but I went into I-am-the-nurse-and-I-am-in-charge mode.  I sat him down, checked his pulse and blood pressure, and then called the other doctor who was there that day.  I was relieved that it happened to be the internist.  The internist gave him medication and called Dr. N’s wife to take him home and make him rest.  Other than that, I had never challenged him, and that challenge had seemed the right thing to do.

On this Saturday, Dr. N strode in and went into the first patient’s room.  We waited in the nurses’ station for him to come out with instructions, but that is not what happened.  The clinic had just been renovated, including installation of a new intercom system.  The last time either Alice or I had worked, it had not been operational.  Neither of us knew that it was now ready for use.  Neither of us had been given any instructions regarding its use. His voice hollering “Nurse” boomed out of the box, which was loaded with buttons and switches, and we were clueless as to how to work the thing.  He was clearly upset and there was no time to be fiddling around, so we raced down the hall to the room he was in.

By this time, Dr. N was in the hall in a rage, because we had not answered him on the intercom.  After he had thoroughly ripped into us regarding our incompetence, and Alice looked like a deer caught in the headlights, I calmly (or at least, I remember it as calmly) said, “Dr. N, I don’t think you should be treating us this way.  Neither Alice nor I have been instructed how to use the new intercom, and we didn’t even know it was ready to be used.”

“You are nothing but a smart-mouth,” he roared.  “Get out of here!  You’re fired!”

I suppose it totally supported his contention that I was a smart mouth, but I returned, “Actually, I don’t think you can fire me.  I quit a week ago.  I only came in to be helpful today, since I was told you were short-staffed.”

I then turned and walked away, went to the nurses’ station and collected my purse, said ‘good-bye’ to the receptionist, and started out the employee exit at the back of the building.  On my way out, Dr. N was in the mechanical room fooling around with something.  I’m pretty sure this was a pretext for accidentally seeing me as I left.  He apologized and asked me to stay….which I did.  I choked back tears most of the day, but I did my best not to let him or any patients see it.

That was the only time in my life I was fired.  It is also the only time I was rehired in less than 10 minutes.  Roller-coaster ride!

Walking Out Alone

Clean gleaming floors stretch before me,

Corridors leading to elevators,

Which lead to more corridors.

I walk alone toward an exit.

I have walked out of this hospital

And left my mother as a patient,

My father, my mother-in-law,

And most recently my father-in-law.

Each in their turn,

I have left behind in a bed,

As a patient in this hospital,

And I have walked out alone.

But this time is different,

Painfully, achingly different.

My husband is in the bed.

The love of my life is the patient.

We did not anticipate this event,

He eats healthy, he exercises,

He is still a runner.

The last person you would expect.

I cannot wrap my head around it,

The slurred speech, the drooping mouth

The symptoms don’t compute,

It can’t be happening.

But this is the reality,

He has had a stroke,

I walk toward the exit alone.

More alone than ever before.

I feel his mortality,

I feel my mortality,

I am walking in a dream.

And I am by myself.

Weeks pass and he is better,

The stroke was minor,

The residual is minimal,

A haunting melancholy remains.

A flashback of walking out alone.

Productivity Lost

Before the age of television, computers and video games, people had to find a way to spend their free time without such entertainment.  Even in the age of radio only, a person’s hands were free to work at something.  Of course, one could read, but suppose a woman wanted to fill her evenings in some quiet activity other than that.  Women in the pre-electronic era busied their hands with knitting, crocheting, tatting, and quilting.  Eventually they actually had a tangible product…something to show for even their “down time.”

Today we have many modern conveniences to give us more free time.  Automatic washers, dryers, dishwashing machines, vacuum cleaners, microwave ovens and other marvels reduce the time spent in tedious drudgery.  But, we have less to show for our free time.  No product results from an evening of television watching or web-surfing or online gaming or X-boxing.  These activities so absorb our focus that we don’t even think of them as wasted hours with no tangible outcome.

I have been thinking about this recently, because we are cleaning out my in-laws home.  In a box under a bed upstairs, we found four hand-pieced quilt tops.  My mother-in-law did not do this type of work, so we are fairly certain that they came from her mother.  It is mind-boggling to look at all of the tiny handmade stitches that went into their construction.  Various family members have expressed interest in these works of an ancestor’s hands.

So, I am wondering, what will members of the present generation have to pass on to their descendants?

Hecuba by Euripides

Hecuba is the widow of King Priam, who was killed by the Trojans.  She has become a slave to the conquerors, although she was previously a queen.  At the outset of the play, she believes that although some of her children were killed in the Trojan War, she still has 3 living children:  Cassandra, who is revered as a prophetess has become the wife of Agamemnon (the conquering Trojan king), Polyxena, who is with her mother in slavery, and a son Polydore, who was sent to live with the neighboring king of Thrace in order to escape the Trojans.

Odysseus arrives with the message that the Trojans are seeking to honor their hero Achilles by sacrificing Polyxena on his grave.  Hecuba begs Odysseus to spare her daughter, reminding him that she once spared his life.  He argues that the dead must be honored, and the sacrifice must occur.  Polyxena bravely accepts her fate and goes off with Odysseus.  

Hecuba begs for, and is granted, the privilege of preparing her daughter’s body for burial.

However, she is delayed from this task by the arrival of a young maiden accompanying a covered corpse.  Hecuba thinks it must be Polyxena, but learns, to her horror, that it is her son Polydore, who she thought to be safe in Thrace.  It turns out the Polydore was sent to Thrace with a large amount of gold, and the King of Thrace, Polymestor, decides the gold is worth more than keeping his promise to protect Polydore.  He has killed Polydore and thrown his body into the sea.  It washed up on the shore and was found by the young maiden who is bringing it to Hecuba.

Agamemnon arrives to inquire what is keeping Hecuba.  She convinces him to look the other way while she seeks revenge on Polymestor.  Agamemnon doesn’t see how a woman can do this, but of course, there is strength in numbers, and Hecuba enlists the help of the other captive women.

Polymestor and his sons are invited to visit Hecuba.  She inquires about Polydore’s well-being, and Polymestor lies and says he is well.  Hecuba claims that she wants to inform him about the whereabouts of additional gold, so he goes with her into a tent without his guards.  There his sons are killed and he is blinded by the captive women.

Polymestor appeals to Agamemnon, but it doesn’t get him anywhere.  Then he prophesies the death of Agamemnon and Cassandra.  Agamemnon thinks he is a raving maniac and doesn’t believe the prediction.  The play closes with Agamemnon anxious to catch the favorable wind and sail for home, where unbeknownst to him his wife Clytemnestra will indeed kill him for several reasons….one of which is that he has brought the lovely Cassandra home to replace her.

While Polyxena is praised for the bravery with which she faces death, Euripides once again displays negative attitudes toward women.

*Agamemnon inquires, “How are women to master men?” 

Hecuba responds, “Numbers are a fearful thing and joined to craft a desperate foe.”

Agamemnon:  “True; still I have a mean opinion of the female race”

*Polymestor commenting on women:  “for neither land or sea produces a race so pestilent, as whomsoever hath had to do with them knows full well.”

Other interesting quotes:

“’Tis never right that those in power should use it out of season, or when prosperous suppose they will be always so.”  (Hecuba)

“Ah!  There is not in the world a single man free; for he is either a slave to money or to fortune, or else the people in their thousands or the fear of public prosecution prevents him from following the dictates of his heart.”  (Hecuba)

“’Tis strange how each extreme doth meet in human life!  Custom determines even our natural ties, making the most bitter foes friends, and regarding as foes those who formerly were friends.”  (the Chorus)

“For the gods confound our fortunes, tossing them to and fro, and introduce confusion, that our perplexity may make us worship them.”  (Polymestor)

As I’ve said previously, I don’t have any use for the Greek gods!  They are morally no different than humans…they just live forever, supposedly.

Two Young Women

I sat in a doctor’s office today thinking about the contrast between two young women who were in the waiting room with us.

One was propped up in an adult stroller.  Her arms and legs were in abnormal positions and appeared to be permanently distorted. Her hands were semi-closed and claw-like.  Drool was running from the corner of her mouth.  She was accompanied by two care-givers who did everything they could to comfort and quiet her.  Initially, she just grunted and moaned as though she was either in pain or having difficulty breathing.  Eventually the sounds escalated to anguished wails which filled the waiting room.  One of her care-givers took her outside.  The day was sunny and warm and being outdoors seemed to relax her, but as soon as she re-entered the waiting room, the cries began again.

The other woman was able-bodied and appeared to be the mother of two children she had in tow.  She paid minimal attention to them, occasionally interrupting her love affair with her electronic device to reprimand them.  Most of the time was spent either texting or talking on the cell phone.  The empty-headed conversation to which we were “treated” was about some guy who had said something about some girl on Facebook, and how she had responded. Maybe those of us over-hearing it were supposed to think she was clever.  It didn’t work on me.  Not only was it none of our business, but we had NO desire for it to be our business.  Listening to this meaningless blathering was worse than listening to the wails.

My heart went out to the first woman.  I wanted to stroke her arm or hug her, but comfort was probably more acceptable coming from a known caregiver than from a stranger, so I thought better of it.

I wanted to smack the second woman upside the head….but I thought better of that too.

The Only Post This Month

The month of June is almost over, and I have not yet written a blog post. 

This month my 96 year old father-in-law died.  This month a new granddaughter was born.  This month a whole lot happened in the lives of family members between the youngest and the oldest.  A number of these incidents are not to be written about here….no way to change names and protect the innocent or the guilty. 

Life is full of good and bad.  There are achievements and disappointments, good decisions and poor ones, moments of joy and moments of grief.  June has been a month of extremes.  I could allow myself to feel distressed and depressed.  But, I can also choose to place all of these in the context of my belief that God is in charge, and that what seems to be a horrible thing can, in His hands, bring about His purpose and blessing to those who love Him.

I don’t understand the nasty things that swirl around my life, any more than I understand the great pain and suffering of others around the world.  Horrors far greater than those in my life happen every day to good people.

We live in a sinful fallen world.  This is not the world God originally created and intended for man.  We have made choices that have led us to this point. 

It will be so until Christ returns to make the crooked straight and the rough places plain.

It will be so until the Lion roars.

All creation will continue to groan waiting for His appearing.

As part of His creation, we groan waiting for His appearing.

He hears our cries.

He sees the sparrow fall. 

He puts our tears in His bottle.

I owe my life to a manic-depressive.

During my last year in nursing school, I had to spend 3 months at Chicago State Hospital….a truly horrible place in the 1960s.  At one point, I was assigned to a female lock-up ward with some pretty disturbed patients.  We were instructed to never attempt to take the blood pressure of one of the women.  I knew that, but one day I felt as though I was in a real predicament with her.

I had been assigned to check the blood pressures of all the patients on the unit.  After taking the blood pressures in the day room, I proceeded to the corridor outside where there were a few chairs in what amounted to a “dead end.”  As I checked the blood pressures of the patients in that little cul-de-sac, I realized that my exit from the area was blocked by the patient whose blood pressure was not to be checked.

Standing between me and a way of escape, she asked, “Why don’t you take my blood pressure like everyone else’s?”

My brain was spinning weighing the possible answers and what she might do as a result.  No other staff members were in sight.  Partly in naiveté and partly stalling for time, I replied, “Do you want me to check your blood pressure?”

“Yes,” she said.

I thought to myself, OK…I will just wrap the cuff on her arm but I won’t pump it up.  Maybe it is the pressure on her arm that sets her off, and I can get away with faking this.

But, I had no sooner wrapped the cuff on her arm, than she was on me with the agility of a cat and had her hands around my throat.  She squeezed, and things started to go gray.

But then….I heard a cheerful voice.  A heavy-set lady who was manic depressive, and fortunately for me, in a manic state, came bouncing down the corridor saying, “What are you doing to the little nursie?”

She grabbed my attacker and pulled her off in one swift movement…not even a struggle.  I rapidly retreated to the safety of the nurses’ station grateful to have survived.  I had finger shaped bruises on my neck.

A few weeks later, while assigned to another ward, I was asked to take a group of sociology students on a tour of the grounds.  It was winter, and I was wearing a blue wool coat over my uniform, as we went between buildings.  We entered one of the units as the patients were finishing their meals.  A lady hopped up and came running toward me with her hands covered in mashed potatoes.  “Oh, Nursie,” she said, and gave me a big hug.  My nice winter coat now had mashed potato handprints. 

I had to forgive her, because she was the patient who had earlier rescued me.