Poor Mag, and poor 3-year old boy

Mag has a full blown case of cellulitis, and thank God the vet was here today to give us antibiotics and more Bute (though he did not prescribe the Bute for this, strangely. Of course I'm giving Mag Bute! His legs are leaking serum and tiny drops of blood, all over.)

The vet asked if the diet changed and my man did not know I'd started Mag on Alfalfa pellets last week. Um, ...yah, so...this is my fault. OR, it's this "Second Spring" we're having - we have dandelions blooming and seeding, and lots of clover with purple flowers. In addition to the acorns from the oaks, and the walnuts that they seek out every day.

I was at work the whole time, that sucks, I was so stressed.

And the nurse I had to work with today, named Methhild, was the first unpleasant one I worked with. She couldn't control her annoyed reactions when I didn't understand something, or if asked for a task, I hesitated because I'd never done it before....EVER. Ugh. I lived this day humiliated by her.

By the end of the day I was feeling resentment, because she had so much of that for me. She accused me, "Your German isn't very good, you know?"









WTH, my German is fine considering I started when I was 36 years old. She didn't have any empathy, she said, "You expect to live and work in Germany, you have to learn the language."





I told her that it's a requirement of the German government, to take integration courses, upon immigrating. And that in this hospital, I've had to learn dozens of medical terms. I learn them every day.









She was just annoyed that she had to repeat herself when she mumbled an order at me.

Even Kari can give me an order without mumbling, but of course Kari was the super pedantic one, a born teacher.

Methhild was out to break my spirit, I felt, and I'd had nightmares about it last night.

She's innocent, of course, but the effects of her behavior wore me down all day.

The anesthesiologist doctor was much kinder to me, he actually noticed when I didn't know how to do a task, and  would simply take over for me.

I contend the following:

• I will submit to every request and store every action and term in memory.
• I expect to have done the procedure once, alone, before you expect me to know how to do it.

That's not how it went with Methhild. She rolled her eyes and sighed at me over tasks I'd never completed before, only observed.

Observing how to place a vein catheter and doing it are very different things.

I started practicing the PVC (vein catheter) on the wall with a plastic tube taped to the wall, simulating a vein. I did it for over an hour with, all 5 different catheter sizes. It's a very zen exercise, alone in the "ready room."

Methhild told me "Oh, now I get what you meant by 'practicing!'" She couldn't fathom it when I told her, and she didn't care to ask.

Then the anestheseologist found me practicing, and found great pleasure in answering my questions, and told me I'd be using a real patient, the next one. Woo!

But then the poor man (who shares my GP) with the distended testicle took forever, and I never got the chance. (I've only placed it once, on Felix, in ER.)

But the poor 3 year old, Oemen. They took away his foreskin today, for religious reasons. I get that, but I had to comfort him before, and stay with him after, until his Turkish family arrived. The poor boy. I got to see his penis before and after. I can't help it, but I wish people wouldn't do that when unnecessary.


And go on, Methhild, try to learn a second language at your age. *peer* I'm especially insulted after all my efforts, and her lack of understanding when I said, "Working in health care is not FOCUSED on language and grammar, as was my career as a Technical Writer." She did not get it. I said, "My German does not need to be PERFECT on an ambulance (and my English REALLY helps with foreigners who live in Germany)."

She was not able to understand even when I put a copy of my resume in front of her. Oh, apparently she cannot read English, even after complaining that she's expected to know it for so many aspects of her modern life.

Then Harija, my Turkish friend, joined us, sitting between us. She had a strange fruit/veggie. I asked, and she said, "It's a melon." But then she cut it up and shared it with everyone in the room (!) and it was a sweet, young variety of cucumber. I loved it. She said she gets them from the Turkish grocery. Of course. Where I must go if I want Cilantro or Jalepenoes.

Methhild asked her how long she's lived in Germany, "20 years." Omygoodness,  but Methhild did not give Harija a bad time about her thick accent and poor grammar. Is her forgiveness due to Harija's position in the hospital as a maid? I'm assuming yes.




My 100% mediocre lunch today - a fish filet and veggies, that needed so much salt and pepper to just make it down: ) Not bad, just not good. Butter would have been nice. I appreciate that they cook the meat perfectly every time, it's always tender. And never any bones. The people in the background are the kitchen staff, who slowly are becoming my buddies, cuz I eat alone near them every day.

In the OR, and every other station, nurses have their food brought up. Why would I want to spend my precious 30 minute break with those people? I relish my break, and always run up to the 6th floor (8th in Germany) to bask in the pretty view and call J. Today to ask about Poor Mag.





8th floor view is nice.










MY MONKEY TREE outside the ER! From down there it's so close.





It's not New England. But it's a raging Indian Summer that I'm enjoying.

***

Mag will not eat his antibiotics tonight, so J is at Aldi right now getting me some applesauce to mix it into a syringe.

Funnily, I'd brought home my PVC (vein catheters) to practice on a fake vein (a plastic tube) and when J handed me the Bute and its syringe, I said, "I can just draw it up and shoot it into a vein!" Ha, ha, not quite. Not yet anyway. The vet said enterally.

Still I'm getting good at that PVC thing, and was promised, by the kind narkose doctor,  a sleeping patient to practice on (is that unethical?)

But I needed to leave, I'd outdone my shift. I thanked Methhild and the kind narkose doctor and raced home to find out what my horse has wrong with him.

BUT.....Not before I corrected Methhild on an error, cuz I'm human too. She kept calling Propofol something else, with a 4-syllable name. No idea. Finally I was done being confused and said, "What is it you keep calling Propofol?" She said, "A fat-soluble med." I said, "I know that, but what are you calling it?"

She said that long word again and I pulled up the pack of Propofols and gave her a bottle and said, "Can you show me what it says, what you are calling it?"

Uh huh.

She could not. No where on the box or bottle was the term she used.

I'm just so sick of this. I can learn the names of things, but I should not have to learn 2 or 3!

On the other hand, the narkose doctor was so unexpectedly kind to me. He spent his entire 5 minute coffee break explaining things to me. He offered me so many tips.

And at lunch he explained, when someone asked, the costs of becoming a doctor in Germany. I'd always been told education is free here, but no. He said he spent 18K Euros in 6 years.

I counted up and found myself at also around 18K $ in 1991-1996. And I lived at home, benefiting from living in a University City.

What's his name will hopefully be there tomorrow.

Thankfully, when I said goodbye, Methhild will not.

4 more days.