Sunday, April 19, 2009
Who is Linda?
I returned to my bed on 6th floor south from surgery into the care of an LPN named Linda. Linda was nasty and made many contamination mistakes. When she tried to attach an IV line back onto my IV site after laying it open ended on the bed without even trying to wipe it off with alcohol... I stopped her cold and made her wipe it off. I had these horrible visions of flesh eating hospital bacteria munching on my wrist. Linda had me to know that I was on the Cardiac ward and she was a cardiac nurse and not a post op nurse. All news to me.... all very concerning news too. Gee... why am I in the cardiac ward? When did nurses (especially LPNs) start getting specialties? And don't cardiac nurses care about contaminating their patients? I start itching. I feel creepy crawly. I'm on oxygen post op and when I put the Tube around my ears I notice white flakes. Oh god! I bet I got Lice from that nasty ER. My PTSD kicks in. I complain for three shifts that I think I have lice and want someone to look and see. Do a scrape and look under a microscope! No one looks for me...... No one EVER looks for me. To this moment, NO ONE EVEN CARED TO LOOK AND EASE MY MIND. When they finally bring a lice treament box (three shifts later) it is missing the main ingredient.... Lice shampoo. But, it had the cream rinse and the little comb and I can atleast get cleaned up again. It was Friday morning and and I had layed in bloody chux pads since Wednesday that were never changed. I was smelling pretty bad again. Last time they washed me up was Wednesday morning before the surgery. The room stank. Sour smelling, very nasty and musty. A very nice lady named Yvonne and her aide helped me get all cleaned up. Afterwards, the room still stank. I asked why does this room stink. Yvonne don't know either but she discribes the same kind of odor I smell. I asked her "Do you think it could possibly be the stuff still hanging on the wall that they pumped from my stomach 2 1/2 or 3 days ago?????" It began to smell better after Yvonne removed the medical waste from my room. But, I start looking at my room. I mean really looking. There is blood on the seat of the plastic chair they sat me in on Wednesday while they changed my bed. There was someone else's body fluids running down the portable heater in the corner. There was brown fuzzy dirt in the cracks, crevaces and controls on my bed. Someone is going to die in there.