A full-sized, stainless steel eating utensil can be consumed by an alert, oriented adult patient. By accident.
Death by acetaminophen overdose begins insidiously and ends in tortuous suffering.
A female can be pregnant and not know it until you advise her that, while she indeed has bowel sounds, your stethoscope was just kicked by a tiny foot.
An adult can be perfectly healthy and dead from meningiococcemia in 48 hours.
The urge to void and the time to do so are never concurrent.
An x-ray will show which brand of deodorant, by shape, is residing in a rectum.
Dialysis on a patient who is over 100 years old will be considered.
A child will cling to her nanny while the mother is sitting on the other side of the exam room.
The busier the shift, the more food you should have on the break-room table.
“The flu” can turn out to be internal bleeding three weeks after the intital trauma.
Following the guidelines of regulatory agencies (cough…JACHO….cough) will add three additional pieces of paperwork to your admission packet.
A nurse can count five different species of insect on a homeless patient.
Doctors with the most illegible handwriting are the most appreciative of legible writing on nurses notes.
These are just a few of the things I’ve learned.
Because I’m a Nurse.