Halloween Archives - Off the Charts

That Ordinary Nightmare Shift

Sandy Klever, RN, currently works in hospice care in Des Moines, Iowa. At the time of the events described here, she was working on a medical/surgical floor at a Veterans Administration hospital.

julie kertesz/ via flickr creative common

“Can you work tomorrow evening?” sweet-talks my nurse manager. Even though I will miss handing out treats on Halloween, I say yes. “But what about all my candy?” I ask. “Just bring it with you!”

Halloween night should be an easy shift. Do not say the ‘Q’ word, I tell myself. As I’m drinking coffee in the staff room, I’m assigned to four familiar patients, one of whom is a discharge.

Then the door opens and a colleague hands me a notecard about a direct admit coming from the ER, tells me that he’s having a COPD exacerbation and is homeless.

Well, I can manage a COPDer. At least he’s not a challenging laryngectomy patient transferring from the ICU.

“Oh, and by the way,” my colleague adds, “he’s confused and bipolar.”

Off to the floor! Because his room is still being cleaned, I have plenty of time. Within minutes, I have performed a complete assessment on my first patient. Moving on to my second patient, I see a commotion in the hallway and realize my new admit is coming on a cart already. As we maneuver the patient […]

Jacob Molyneux, senior editor/blog editor2016-11-21T13:01:17-05:00April 25th, 2016|Nursing, nursing perspective, nursing stories|3 Comments

Halloween Nurse

By Shawn Kennedy, MA, RN, AJN editor-in-chief

by indigoprime/via Flickr

When I was a little girl about six or seven years old, I decided that I would dress up as a nurse one Halloween.

My mother bought me a play nurse’s kit. It was a pink plastic “little nurse bag” containing a white nurse’s cap, a stethoscope, a tongue depressor, blue-framed plastic glasses that perched on your nose, a plastic thermometer with the “mercury line” painted to 101 degrees, a plastic hypodermic syringe, a small notepad and pencil, cotton balls, and Band-Aids. (For your information, the “junior doctor kit” contained pretty much the same things, except it was black plastic, had a yellow and orange plastic otoscope, and a headband with a reflector disc. My brother received one of those.)

I wore a white blouse and tan skirt (my mother drew the line at buying clothes for one day) and used a safety-pin to clip a blue towel around my neck as a cape. I wore the nurse’s cap and glasses. My brother dressed in his Catholic school uniform (white shirt and navy blue pants and red tie) and wore his stethoscope around his neck and his little blue glasses perched on his nose.

We were quite the medical team. I wonder how many nursing or medical career seeds were planted with those play kits. by rosmary/via Flickr