Scheduling Wars

I was hired years ago at the hospital as an 'evening' per diem. Meaning, I let the scheduler know my availability, I am schedule me the days I am needed, not necessarily all of the days I list. In my initial interview, the nurse manager assured me, in response to my concerns, that almost never would I be required to work later that 1930 (seven thirty p.m. for you non-military time types). I was open about my late evening fatigue and distractedness, a by product of injured muscles and Fibromyalgia.

For the years since my hiring, I am home by 1830, often by 1630 or 1730. Suddenly, after a few nurses took maternity leave or, in one case a leave of absence, in another outright resignation, the per diems have been tapped to fill the gaps. Two of us are suddenly scheduled for late starts (afternoons) and late endings (2200, often). Evenings? Suddenly, that is looking a lot like nights. And, I can tell you, my 50+ year old body doesn't like it. In my younger days, I tried late shifts several times, and never could hack them. Well, that ain't gonna change now.

Additionally, from four day weeks, I have some five day weeks scheduled, against my wishes.

Okay, what to do? I have to look out for myself and my health. So, for the first time, I have become a 'circle the wagons' employee. Use me once, shame on you. Use me again, shame on me. So, I simply put down fewer available days. I would be willing to come in more, but not when I work for a unit that can rearrange my days by six or seven hours without speaking to me or regarding the schedule I have come to expect, based on a precedence of years.

I hate that I have to think like this; to find a way to protect myself, to resort to checks and balances, to end games and punishment. But, as an older and wiser person, I accept that it is what it is, and will look out for me and mine. Another team player goes down in disillusionment...

Celebrating Celebrations

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In the past couple weeks, I have coordinated several major family celebrations. A 90th birthday for my mother-in-law. A sixty fifth birthday for my husband. A welcome home for kids who haven't been home for months. The house was full, dinners each night were huge affairs that meant hours of shopping, prep work, and cooking. Then, the entertaining. Then, the clean up.

In between, I worked. And tried to give my patients the best part of what was left of me. I took one moment at a time, one patient at a time, one meal at a time, one dirty kitchen at a time. And, today, the last person left. The Canadian relatives are home, the Mexicans relatives have returned to their distant abodes, and the out of staters drifted away later. The house is quiet. And much in need of a total cleaning; three bathrooms, five bedrooms, two refrigerators stuffed to absurdity, a neglected garden, a kitchen that, while looking clean, has sticky floors, drips on the fronts of cabinets, a stove, microwave and two ovens that are certifiably unsanitary, and one incredibly grubby carpet.

And, not surprisingly, my energy slowly ebbed over the course of the extended frivolity. And, now, I sit in my marginally habitable home, warm memories flooding me, small stains evoking small smiles. And, I am glad I came through once again for my family, and for George's family. It is for them that I do this, the all encompassing 'them', which over the years has come to mean those folks most important to me, and those important to them.

As I think about the role women have played throughout the existence of mankind, I feel a sense of connection with the ones who came before, the hunters, gatherers, the medicine practitioners, the storytellers and keepers of the secrets and traditions. Because that is what I have been doing for my family, and for George's, in the gatherings and celebrations I put together. Relationships, connectedness, tradition, heritage, all are displayed and shared and confirmed. There is reassurance in the sense of belonging that these gatherings engender.

So, exhausted as I am, I draw sustenance from having been a part of a larger milieu, that of our history and heritage. I'm not sure that the participants were aware of anything beyond the good food, great local wines and beer, good company and laughter. But, they were. And are. All part of the greater aspect of being a family, of being human.

Laundry, take two

(this is really me, doing laundry yesterday...*)

It seems like I have always used liquid laundry detergent labeled 'free and clear', that is, free of colorings and fragrances. Apparently, I forgot why I began to use them in the first place. I know that I am an advocate of the smallest interference possible in products, whether cleaning or food or personal hygiene.

Recently, my son gave up his college apartment and moved back home, integrating his products into the general household supplies. I ran out of my laundry detergent and used some of his for a large pile of clothing one Saturday not long ago. Washed, dried, folded, put away.

Then, I began to itch. I thought it was a reaction to dry air or cleaner at the hospital. I began to itch more, sometimes digging at my forearms before I realized what I was doing. Then, I began to turn red. That finally got me thinking.

The first thing we ask a patient who presents with skin itching and rash is; 'have you changed your laundry or bath soap?' I asked myself, and the answer was 'Oh, yeah!' I hurried upstairs to remove all the recently laundered clothing from closet and drawers, along with the dirty stuff, and began to rewash and double rinse everything.

I ended up with a huge pile of laundry to work my way through, but the reward is that, as soon as I switched to clothing that had been laundered in my old way, my dermal disruptions ended.

Oh, now I remember why I always get the neutral-smelling, clear detergent and then dilute the softener by two thirds for our laundry!

(okay, so it's a Google image, but it could've been...*)

Plan ahead

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I don't get the mentality (or, more precisely, lack thereof...) behind scheduling nurses at the hospital.

Per diems submit their availability on each day of the upcoming cycle, waay in advance, I might add. Then, the scheduler takes about three weeks (c'mon, really, three weeks?) to produce our schedule. The schedule that will dictate our lives and income for the next month.

Then, we begin our work cycle and show up as arranged. The problem comes when there are staffing holes in the schedule. Big ones. And the charge nurses come around soliciting volunteers to work extra days. Today, for example, my unit is six nurses short. Six! That is just plain poor planning.

So, I am not working today. I am relishing the rest, the ease, the chance to not be on my feet for nine hours straight. And, I am a little smug at saying 'no' to coming in on a day off that has been a day off for nearly a month. Plan ahead, scheduler. It's your job. Learn to do it.

As they say, lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine.