Love and Hate-a Nurse’s List



A list, as inspired by the writing challenge

I love:

Holding your hand as you are afraid and feeling you become calm
Explaining to you what the Doctor said in simpler terms
Listening to your lungs and realizing that your pneumonia is getting better
Giving you a cup of water when you are thirsty
Helping you take a shower when you haven’t taken one in days
Noticing when you are getting worse and ‘pulling’ you back from the brink
Talking to you about your surgery and answering your questions
Having the time to hear about your family
Making your pain more manageable
Making you laugh
Sending you home!


I hate:

Short staffing and call-ins
Seeing you cry
Watching you in pain
Watching your family cry
Dementia induced paranoia
Hospital acquired psychosis
Having to use Haldol and restraints (as related to the above)
What smoking does to your lungs and how you can’t breath
Staff conflicts
Seeing you come back-when you wish you could just be home.


A Diverse Ramble



Discussion swirled

Back and forth

About how some things are not

Just scientific but in fact


And who could deny?

For they say

There are no atheists

In foxholes

Why would there be here?

For this is our foxhole

And truly,

There cannot be an absence

Of a Divine Order of affairs,

For the filling of the void and

The answers to the longing

That causes these questions

Is found in the One

The Logos

Who in the beginning was the Logos,

And was with God

And was God.

And because I know

That all things were created by Him and for Him…

And that by Him all things consist,

I rest

While the questions continue,

They continue sticking their heads up

Looking about

Without any armor

And I in my foxhole,

Protected and safe,



Ref: John 1, Colossians 1





I walk past

And in a moment

I see

Two worlds apart

At the same time.

You are crying,

He is laughing,

You cannot see each other

But I can see

Both of you.

How are you?

To one


“Great! how are you?”

To the other,

“I’ve had better days.”

Your world ending,




The life of one you loved


His world beginning,

A life with one he loves,



So here I stand

With Kleenex and tears

To one


Smiles and laughter

To another

And I marvel

At the greatness of

The  Omnipresent,

The Omnipotent,

All Knowing,

Savior of the World

To gives to all






To meet

Each need

While knowing

And seeing

Worlds apart

At the same time.




Thou God seest me…Genesis 16:13

Yes, That Happened to Me





While working on part II of Please-Just Let me Go Home I thought that I do something that I have never done before.

I want to ask my readers a few questions.

Have you ever been a patient in the hospital? A visitor?

What are some of your best and worst hospital experiences?

Working in healthcare is a daily learning experience. We encounter people who are often scared, sick and vulnerable at the same time.

What did someone do for you that was wonderful? That was awful? How did someone approach you that you appreciated? That you didn’t appreciate?

Leave a comment and share your story!

Dear (Blank)

Following the WordPress suggestion to find an event listing, I found this one.

This seemed appropriate for my state of mind lately, and I had fun doing it!

A letter with blanks to fill in was a great way to get back into the mood.

Words in bold are mine.


Dear Writer’s Block,

I have been trying to forget that I feel this way for quite a while, but I can’t pretend anymore.  I am really (blank).  You know when you arrived and stood between the tip of my pen and my paper? And my fingers and my keyboard?  Well, let me share how that makes me feel…  When you stand in the way, like a man holding a stop sign for construction on a day when I am already REALLY LATE for work, I feel (blank).  Not so much as a thought or even inspiration, but really, really (blank).  It makes me want to start copying Webster’s Dictionary (the entire thing) with my pen in a leather journal just so that I am writing SOMETHING.  I would like to think that I am not the only one who feels this way.  As a matter of fact, you know what some of my blocked friends told me? What they told me about the publishers of all notebooks and leather-bound journals at $15 a piece?  Well they told me that you made a deal with them, that you come along, cause this surge of blocked writers who buy notebooks thinking it will inspire them. The blocked writers never write a word and the journal makers make money.

You know what they say:  If one person says you’re a self-serving, money hungry schemer, you can forget it.  When two people say you’re a self-serving money hungry schemer who is also lazy, you might want to consider it.  When three people say you’re a self-serving, money hungry, scheming lazy liar you might want to give up what you are doing to save your dignity.  It’s about that time for you, Writer’s Block.  Think about that.

Since we are being so honest, there are a few other things I would like to air.  I hate it when you critique my imperfect sentences and grammatically strange dialogue.  It makes me stressed, uptight and trying to write like the advice from a perfectly grammatical How to Appropriately Use the English Language book, if there is such a thing.

I also hate the way you cripple my stories.  Every time you tell me that my character can’t cry because they didn’t seem like the crying type based on their character sketch and their lack of development that I the writer caused because I was a BLOCKED writer and a poor one to boot I want to start stringing together words that really don’t make sense at all in your not so deep psuedo-cement vat of assumptions that of course I can’t write.


Also, the journal and notebook maker is not your real friend.  Remember that secret that you shared?  Well those who make those impressive holders for words and thoughts shared it with everyone.  Now everyone knows you are a myth and that real writers CAN use their notebooks and journals just as well as blocked writers can. So they continue buying and selling their notebooks and they all laugh at you behind your back.

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.  I really like you.  I value our relationship.  But I cannot go on pretending that Writer’s Unblock hasn’t happened.  If you care enough about me and this relationship, I am sure you would agree to stay away forever. I am getting to know your cousin, Unblock. He seems a little less uptight.

Still friends?



Oops, let’s try that again.


This pen loving, notebook collecting, word delighting, at times grammatically damaging but always sentence creating, unblocked Writer.

Excluded Middles: Quitting Facebook

Not directly about nursing, no. But the concept of intrinsic value that is discussed here is a core of healthcare-helping others. And ourselves as well. We have an identity apart from what we project. And so do our patients. I believe of course that is because we are created by God… And I re-blogged because I really, really, like this article.

Good Things Run Wild

Originally published as “The Sosyal Network” in the Manila Bulletin, October 26, 2011

I recently shut down my Facebook account. This is partly for pragmatic reasons: doing so has saved me a lot more time for work and leisure reading. It is partly for security reasons: like most people, I live with an exaggerated sense of self-importance, and am in constant fear of creepy strangers looking at my bikini photos.

I do not regret it. Getting rid of my Facebook account has liberated me from the bondage of constantly keeping up with my peers. I no longer know where everyone else is going and with whom and what they are doing there, and I no longer feel bad or uncool about not being there too. It has also saved me the trouble of trying to find good photos of myself to post, and evaluating my self-worth on the number of…

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Nothing Left to Lose

A post that I enjoyed- especially this part- “In the words of my co-worker tonight, “You have to take care of you, or you can’t take care of others. You have to vent.” And in a job that asks you to give all of yourself to others, even when you have nothing left to give, his words could not be truer.”

Dear Someone,

What can make me whole again… 

Nothing but the blood of Jesus…


I look forward to having a job that does not require an emotional debriefing with co-workers after days like today. 

It is sometimes not possible to stuff away your emotions if they are too powerful, or you will find them spilling out in all kinds of other directions.

I tried to stuff them today. I tried to continue working, as if nothing I had just seen had actually happened… As if the images, sounds, and smells of the last hour were not forever burned into my senses. And it went well, at first. Jokes and laughter became a mask. I was distracted, and the day was ok again. For a while. But they pushed through the distraction, and the neglect. They came back, and they came back hard.

In the words of my co-worker tonight, “You have to take…

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