Wednesday, December 26, 2007

catch a sailfish. check.

hey all. hope everyone had a great christmas. lora and i are back from mexico. stayed in ixtapa. it was warmer than portland. the fish are bigger, too. only two days of fishing. once out of zihuatanejo and one day out of a tiny fishing village about 2 hours south. we blanked casting streamers to roosterfish in the surf. but dorado were pretty consistent both days. and i got a nice sailfish on the second day. unfortunately, it was pretty much dead at the boat due to an inhaled hook. but the freezer is full of dorado caught on the fly rod. and i didn't start having code browns until after we got home. we were unsuccessful finding a nacho libre match. but averaged 1.5 massages per day. all in all...mexico proved worthy.
go blazers.

Sunday, December 23, 2007


my gift to you.
nothing is more creepy and awesome...when david beckham meets mr. rogers.
merry christmas.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

aren't those kids at peta clever...?

y'all need to stop pickin' on these two princesses.
but seriously, watch the will change your life forever.
not really.
click here.

Monday, December 10, 2007

hitting the nail on the head...

this guy and i should definitely get a beer. i could tell him about this 15 year old kid tonight who somehow got a MRSA infection in his penis. now he has to have me change his penis dressing a couple times tonight because what was his stubby little pecker is now a bloody, sloughing stump. sad, right?
no, not sad, stupid.
how do you have a cut or a wound get superinfected down in your unused, prepubescent love gun? and you're only 15, not old enough, in my opinion, to be norelco-ing your pubes for a night out on the town. well, the answer weigh 270lbs. seriously, i think he had a peanut butter and oreo sandwich stashed down there for a week. smelled great. he asked me to get him some food. i said no. i think he wanted potato chips. his mom couldn't because she was asleep and couldn't hear him calling out to her through the buzzing of her CPAP breathing machine. another fat person with sleep apnea. go figure.

thanks to DQ for passing this along:

(taken from )

One of most common questions I'm asked when I tell people I'm a murse (besides, "Dude, you gay?") is "why did you become a murse?" The answer to that question is a long fucking story that someday I may share with you all. But the short answer is I wanted to do something that mattered. Actually be a contributing member to our strange little tribe. Also I figured that if I told some chick I saved someone's life that day I'd have a good chance to hit the squish mitten. Or at least get a beej. Whatever. I was originally going to be a doctor, but I think that I took a wrong turn at habitual pot use & lazy. I didn't want to be a cop or a fireman and I ended up here. So it goes. Nurses handle patient care. Patients. The hack cliche is that the reason you call them patients is because it takes patience to deal with them. Well, that's actually kinda true. This addition of Tales from the Murse examines some of the types of patients we see.
Bleeders - The Bleeders are the ones with an enormous over-reaction to what is generally a simple laceration. "Yeah, you cut yourself making a fucking salad. It's bleeding I know, keep pressure on it and elevate it. Oh look, it stopped bleeding. Whatdayaknow. Can you calm the fuck down now? I know the sight of blood, especially your own can distress some people, but if you need less than a couple of sutures - I want you to stop freaking out." However, there is the other type of bleeder. They have a laceration on their hand and raise it in the air like an anxious 3rd grader who wants to tell you the capital of Vermont (I know its Montpelier you cocksucker). "You're not gonna need a transfusion if you don't keep it elevated guy. You can put your hand down. Yeah, just keep fucking glaring at me douche bag and just see how long I make you wait in the waiting room - I got all day fuckmook."
Hypochondriac - The hypochondriac thinks they have some weird Third World disease even though they haven't even left their area code. Goddamn Or they think they are going to die from abdominal pain, are having a transient ischemic attack because they have a goddamn headache, or have necrotizing fasciitis even though its eczema. "No you pussy. You're fine. Rub some dirt on it and walk it off. I'll bet even your mother thinks you're useless." These are also the people that come in with panic attacks. Tony Soprano is a pussy, yeah - I said it.
Nervous/too worried - Similar to the hypochondriac this type of person I encounter is usually a relative of the patient. They want to hover around the nurse's station all the time. Constantly asking if we know what's going on. They want to see the lab reports even when they have no fucking clue what any of it means. "Do you know what Polycythemia Vera is? No? Ok, then shut the fuck up and let me work you jackass. Oh, do you know how to read an EKG? Can you tell me if that R wave progression is borderline or not? You can't? Well then you'll just have to take my word for it wont you? Cuntpaste."
Can't get out of the car - These people annoy the shit out of me. First off they usually drive up in the ambulance bay and just start knocking on the goddamn door. You need to go around to the main entrance. See how it's marked "Ambulances Only" in big fucking red "Contact made with life on Mars" newspaper headline sized letters. "We need help getting out of the car. Well how the fuck did you get him in the car in the first place chunky trunks? Aw fuck it - let's just get your fat ass in the wheelchair. No they don't come any bigger than this. Maybe you should lay off that 3rd piece of cake after the all you can eat Chinese buffet; did that ever occur to you? Try the Subway Jarrod diet or something - eat fresh you fucking pig."
Smelly/poor hygiene - These are usually the homeless. You live outdoors and haven't seen the business end of a shower in a month - I get it. But if you have a working bathroom with plumbing there is no excuse to smell like an aborted fetus covered in week old potato salad. Brush your fucking teeth, floss, get some Scope, and use deodorant. I see way too many people that come in with dental abscess because they just didn't take care of their teeth. Brush and floss you piece of shit - brush and floss. However the converse of this is the jackhole who fucking bathes in cologne (usually an Arab or teenage boy). The triage room is pretty small, so when some asshole that drenched himself in Drak Noir comes in and I almost asphyxiate you can bet your ass that they're going to be in for a long wait as far away from me in the lobby.
Drug seekers - These are the all too common housewife heroin addicted bags of shit that we see everyday and will have their own article later. They come in and do little street theater to exaggerate their symptoms with unknown etiology. Some of them even ask what Docs are on that day because they know who gives out the candy and who tells them to fuck off. Drug seekers and poor hygiene people usually go hand in hand -who would have thought that Meth doesn't make you want to bathe. They sometimes come in with 'dental pain'. In my years here I've slowly seen the regulars come in with less and less teef (when you have less than 12 they are called "teef", not teeth). You would think that if you only had a half dozen of something you might want to take care of it, but no.
Princess - I hate the princess. She's a solipsistic ego queen. She could come in with a sprained ankle, but needs to be seen before the guy having an asthma attack or the grandpa with chest pain. In triage its "why do I have to answer all of these questions? I need to see a doctor right now? How much longer is this going to take?" Once you get this bitch to a room it never stops "I don't want to put on the gown. Turn up the heat in here. Excuse me. I need to see the doctor. No, I want a private room. I need painkillers now blah bla fucking blah". I have seriously dreamed of strangling her with the cord for the call button when she rings it every other damn minute.
Foreigners - Now the foreigners fall into 2 categories the ones who are nice and I like. And the ones who's eyes I want to gouge out and find someone with Aids to pee into the socket. The later have no grasp of the English language even though they've been here for the better part of a decade. They bring the entire extended family with them and they all want to crowd in the room. My rule is who ever speaks English the best can be in the room. Everyone else out to the lobby. For some reason Russians are the fucking worst. They could wait in line for 3 hours to get a loaf of bread back in Mother Russia, but think they are entitled to medical care in a cocaine heartbeat in the good ole US of A. "Listen tovarich, I know you got in a car accident, but you managed to walk in here and given they way that you are gesticulating wildly I think its safe to assume that your neck and back are gonna be ok, now sit down and shut the fuck up. Goddamn Commie."
I'm high as a kite and my teeth are green, merry fucking Christmas!
Banshee - These patients are more often than not men rather than women. Women have a higher pain tolerance than men. Sometimes I want to backhand them across the face and shout, "You can act like a man!" These patients will cry and moan before they get to a room, putting on a show for the whole waiting room to see. A lot of these patients act like they are dying from whatever brought them in, only to calm down and stop carrying on once they get a room or see the doctor. Sometimes I'll tell them that I'm the doctor, and do a cursory exam just to get them to shut up.
People who think it's like TV - these people have no grasp of reality. These are the unwashed masses that ensure that Bush got re-elected and that NASCAR (rednecks turning left) is on every weekend. Picture your average Springer viewer. These people think that every trip to the ER is like TV and that no matter how trivial their symptoms it requires you to be rushed through the halls, doctors and nurses giving report on your vitals and rush you in to get treated. Well, it doesn't work like that you fucktard. You hurt yourself trying to recreate some fucking stunt you saw on Jackass, and now you have to sit there with a broken clavicle like the dumbass that you are. Deal with it, and so help me if you use that laundry hamper as a spittoon I will turn you into a damn pincushion trying to 'find a vein'.
And finally - Flu season is upon us. For an ER this is our busiest time of the year. It is also the time of the year that Uncle Toque spends nearly a grand a month to hang with his dear friends; Jim, Jack, and Jose. I'll do my best to not make this seem like a rant in F U major, but it's hard.
You see - the problem with flu season is that we get all manner of people who, while they may be sick, there is almost nothing that we can do for them in the ER unless they are severely dehydrated, constantly vomiting or have a high fever. Most of the people we get seem to think that if they had antibiotics they would get better. The problem is that the flu is a virus, not a bacterial infection. Antibiotics don't do jack shit for a viral infection.
We have patients that flood the ER, none are emergent, but all are sick. Easily 90% of them are not sick enough to be in the ER. However, given the way our current medical system is set up - clinics and doctor's offices that should be handling these patients wont take them if they are uninsured or are not a preferred provider. So they come to see us.
Here's my advice if you are sick with the flu. This will save you a couple hundred dollars easy. Stay in bed, drink lots of fluids, take some nsaids (Ibuprofen, Tylenol) and get rest. That's it. No magic pill or treatment is going to help you get over it any faster. In fact, I'd be willing to bet spending 4-5 hours in a crowded ER where the door is constantly opening and letting in 30 degree air is only going to make matters worse. Well that - or you could always chug a bottle on NyQuil and go into an emerald coma of pure ecstasy where there is no pain, filled with self-transforming machine elves from hyperspace.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

bringing back the classics...

like the shoe phone...these never get old.

Sunday, December 2, 2007

thanksgiving bounty.

20 people. 15 clam limit. 30 minutes. equals a ridiculous razor clam afternoon. sunny skies. no wind. apparently clam guns are for manginas, so i used my paws.
if you're new to me, i guess washington clams (and crabs) are better, bigger...simply because washington has tighter regulations on season and size. discouraging to hear if you live in oregon.
damn, the world population needs a thinning. starting with anyone with the last name: vick, winehouse, romo, mcconaughey, and holtz.
oh and my crackwhore neighbor with all the dogs...although she might already be dead since there was an ambulance at their house last night and someone left on a stretcher.