Monday, October 28, 2013

Irony

One of the night nurses was very happy one morning.

"I was just reading in a chart, I am not sure why I was doing that, but I was.  I see something with your name signed on it.  It's like a story almost.  About a patient.  What they ate, what they were wearing, that they were quiet and then noisy.  Very good stuff," she complimented me.

"It's a nursing progress note," I answered, wondering how she could be a nurse for so many decades without ever reading or writing a note on a patient.  Then I remember where we are, and it does not seem so surprising anymore.

"Well, I was thinking, 'This girl is so good with the details.  I have an interesting life.  Maybe she could write my life story.  I should ask her.'  So what do you think?" she stood there, beaming.

Two thoughts flashed through my mind.
1-  Yes, I could write pages of nurse's notes for your stay in the psych ward as a patient.  You're crazier than most of the patients.
2-  Ironically, I do write about your life, or at least one aspect of it.

No comments:

Post a Comment