Jo hates it when a kit she puts together for a lumbar drain just...disappears, five minutes before the drain is due to be put in.
Jo hates it when the day is so confused and chaotic that she forgets to hang an antibiotic until 1800, at which time the patient has been discharged for six hours.
Jo hates it when all the cafeteria has for lunch is pulled pork sandwiches and chicken adobo.
Jo hates failed procedures.
Jo loves it when she's passed all her medications and opened all her charts by nine a.m.
Jo loves chicken salad with pecans and red grapes.
Jo loves it when a patient tells her, "Thank you for answering all my questions. I was scared before, but I feel better now."
Jo loves it when she can peg a neurology resident from twenty feet away with a thrown ball of paper.
Jo can tolerate delays in MRIs getting read, but she's not happy about it.
Jo can tolerate a twisted sock for almost twelve hours.
Jo can tolerate a two-mile run.
Jo can tolerate it when people just...disappear, sort of like that lumbar drain kit, be it through death or dismissal or Personal Journeying, but that doesn't mean she likes it.
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I have ended up on somebody else's blog. Not *me* me, but my Mild-Mannered Alter Ego. One of my patient's fathers started a blog to document her brain surgery and had me pose with her for a few pictures. Those pictures are now up (or so they tell me) on the blog, with appropriate captions ("We don't know which ward this one escaped from, but she doesn't seem dangerous").
I just hope the Nurse Jo Cape didn't make telltale wrinkles under my scrub jacket.