basric | LJIDOL SEASON 8 PROMPT 'TWITTERPATED'

When it comes to hospital units—ICU's & triage anyway—I am a firm believer in ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t try and fix it.’

I came in Friday night knowing we had a new group of residents and that one of them had earned the name Dr. Dreamy by every female and some males in the hospital. An Italian mother where he got his thick black curly hair along with that olive skin and a highland Scottish father where he got the broad shoulders tapering waist and a firm butt. He was gorgeous so he is known hereafter as Dr. G. Just because you’re taken doesn’t mean you can’t window shop.

I knew the Trauma Attending would be in since it was the residents first weekend (hereafter referred to as Dr. A. because I am too lazy to type out the full thing).

The big surprise was to discover the floor manager had hired a night manager hereafter known as nightmare. New rules were pinned on the bulletin board. I sighed heard Paula echo the sigh behind me.

"Lunch breaks at mandatory times—why do they all insist on putting that in there for triage? How does that make sense? We're suppose to tell the victim, 'Excuse me, I know you’re bleeding out or crashing but I MUST take my lunch now.' REALLY?? And can you see us telling that to Dr. A.?"

Nightmare stood at the assignment board busy erasing the assignments the floor manager made assigning patients to change them to her suit herself though she knew not a single weekend night nurse or their strengths or weaknesses.

“You can’t do that. An ICU nurse can only have two patients and Mr. R. needs two on one. That’s hospital policy, read your manual if you doubt me.”

“Fine,” she handed the dry erase maker to Kelly, the charge nurse and turned to me. “I know who YOU are. You think you run this floor. Well Honey, let me tell you I am the night manager and you work for ME!”

“First I am not your Honey, second, I work for the Medical Center. When you start cutting my paycheck, then I work for you.” I’m sure I smiled sweetly, “And I KNOW I run weekend triage.”

“Not tonight. I will be running triage,” said another new fucking egomaniac.

“How long since you have done anything but push a pencil?”

“Five years and then I was on a surgical floor but I don’t have to explain myself to the likes of you.”

“You kinda do, if you think you're running triage. You ever work triage?”

“No, but I’ve done ER.”

“Apples and oranges, you realize the Attending is here tonight?”

“So what?”

I gave up. Melinda working triage with us tonight slipped up beside me, "You aren't gonna let her kill anybody, cause she will?"

"We don't have to worry about it. Watch and learn what happens when you piss off a God."

The nurses gathered in our holding room. A LifeFlight pilot walked in, “They’re doing night maneuvers with Black Hawks tonight at Fort Campbell."

“Wonderful.” They give those boys flight lessons about as long as we train nurses. Night maneuvers are the most likely to go down with casualties and wounded.

“They have a gunshot wound in triage,” nightmare snapped, "You should be getting report.".

“One shift does not interrupt another’s triage. A patient could die while you are giving report.”

“We’ll see about that, another waste of manpower.”

The pilot popped his head in, as a courtesy, “Hundred and eight vehicle pileup on Vietnam’s Vet. Eighteen dead so far, forty-six injured. Five victims will be coming to us one to the burn unit. We’ll give a yell when we're headed back. Fog frosted to zero visibility.”

“Be safe.”

“We need to get ready,” me to nightmare.

“No use until we see what we need.” A prayer into the ether not another one. So I explained.

She was adamant, SHE was the boss, “I’ve read your file, Missy,” said this woman one year older than myself, "You're over-educated with inflated delusions of self-worth.”

“Really? The Floor manager knows you’re rifling through her desk?”

Silence.

Paula smirked, “That's an unofficial rifling.”

“I’ve read yours, little girl, too and you're no angel, either.”

“Enough, you need to let the Attending know what’s coming.”

“Why? He’ll know when they get here.”

“You ever even watched triage during the day or any nights you worked or ever in your nursing career?”

“No.”

“But you’re going to run it with the Attending here. Don’t plan on being here very long do you.”

“It can’t be that hard if you do it. I’ve been warned about you, bitch. Don’t think your special relationship with the Attending will save your ass from me.

I walked away, before I slugged her. Went to find Dr. A and let him know he had incoming. He sat by the radio to take report from the in-flight residents.

First girl in was a crush injury, twisted limbs, and fractured neck. The nightmare said in a loud voice to the flight nurse/paramedic, “Why’d you bring her in here. She’s as good as dead.”

“I should've left her at the scene to die?”

“Or in an ambulance until they could take her to the Metro Morgue.”

“What the hell kind of nurse are you?”

“I know enough to know a lost cause when I see one.”

Gratefully the young woman was unconscious.

Dr. A. took four loud steps and backed the night manager into the wall, “Didn't you realize when you came to work at a trauma unit our job is to SAVE lives, not allow victims to die. We work on a victim until ALL hope is lost. Now get your incompetent ass out of my triage, NOW.”

“These nurses work for me not you; they do what I say. I'll pull everyone of them out of here and you can 'save' patients by yourself.”

"Wanna bet?" I asked her.

“GET OUT or I’ll have security remove you from the building,” Dr. A. turned his back to her. For a moment I thought she was actually stupid enough to hit him.

She looked over at Dr. G. and I swear she batted her eyes at him and in a sugary voice, “I’m sure you understand my position; don’t you doctor?”

Everyone rolled their eyes. Poor Dr. G. looked mortified.

“You,” she actually shoved her finger into Dr. A.’s back. “Need to go home and let Dr. G. run triage the way it should be.”

Every resident stuck his head out of the bays and Dr. G. along with them looked horrified at the suggestion.

"Woman, do you know who I am?"

"I think you think you're GOD."

Oh's and uh huh's echoed around the room.

This is what Gary meant by Twitterpated. She was beyond that right into severe mental deficiency.

"Get out, now," this time an order whispered in a tone worthy of a God. "I'll not just have your job, but have you up before the Nursing Board."

"And you, "he pointed at Dr. G. "You and this this...person?

"N...n...no, Sir."

Meanwhile, though listening, Paula and I were busy working on the victim, Dr. G. had placed the Line and intubated then we had drawn labs and hung fluids and blood and cut away clothing to brace bones and hand hemostats to Dr. G. to pinch off the bleeders we found. Six units of blood, two bags of plasma and two six packs of platelets and we had her stabilized and off to surgery; then went to help with the others along with two GSW’s and a baseball bat to the head.

All the Black Hawk’s stayed aloft this night, thankfully.

The night manager disappeared. Not just that from triage that night but never returned.

The young woman she gave up for dead survived. She had a long road of rehab but she lived and had plenty of family to help.

This particular Floor Manager after a long conversation with Dr. A. never hired another night manager.

Abbreviations and such
twitterpated---excited or overcome by romantic feelings; smitten.
Vietnam's Vet---Vietnam Veteran's Parkway
PRBC's----Red Blood Cells must be cross & typed O, A, B, AB, + or -
Plasma----the liquid part of the blood
6 Pack of platelets---are clotting platelets-takes 6 donors to make 1 small bag.