Ten-Finger Exercises

Oops, can't vacuum--darn!

How's this for an excuse? (Not as good as the hunk, I know.) I was trying to get the vacuuming done tonight while Bill is at a meeting, and I had to change the bag and filter. The filters he bought (He always keeps me supplied with bags and filters.) don't fit. I cut one and made it fit, but then saw another type filter I've never noticed before, and it wasn't dirty at all, which makes no sense. Anyway, I couldn't get the front back on right. It snapped closed on one side but not the other. So I'm leaving open it for Bill to examine the other filter, and he can close it.

We're having a season on things not working quite right, but I think this one is temporary. The sprinklers, this morning, wouldn't advance past stage 5. And the coffee pot boiled water merrily away in the innards of the machine but produced very little dripping into the pot. I tried running a vinegar solution through it, but it leaked out the front of the tank around the controls. Not good.

We had a long meeting at work this morning, talking about different software programs that will allow us to "go paperless." The nurses are very enthused about it, and they do the bulk of the charting. A team of four from different disciplines made a road trip last week to visit a hospice in Hood River. They came back just glowing about how wonderful it was, how drab our office is, etc. I have to admit I feel a little defensive whenever little groups of two or three people begin to complain, or to have great ideas about how we can fix everything. It doesn't seem to me like there's that much broken. For instance, the main thing they have gone on and on about is the decor of the place they visited, how it's done in better colors, orange and green, and has couches and a loft instead of desks and cubicles. Maybe they're just too young to have seen orange and green before; and our rose and teal is outdated, but unfortunately not very old. Certainly not ready to replace on a big scale: all the carpet and chairs, etc. The very pale pink walls, which they refer to as putty colored, could be changed easily, but not to anything very different.

Other little clusters of folks have complained in the past that we need more time, and a place, to grieve the loss of patients. Of course the time thing can't be helped much. One patient dies and a few more come aboard. But, to accommodate them, the director had a counselor come in once a month for a group session. That didn't last long at all before the group that showed up was just social services and chaplains.

The director also allowed a little group to set up a "meditation room" with a salt light and nice atmosphere, etc. Maybe some books about grief. I don't honestly know. The only time I've been in there is when the massage therapist comes and stations his chair in there. The people who seemed to be having the most (the only?) trouble with grief over loss of patients are a couple of nurses who have poor boundaries. Not only do they get overly involved, personally, but they want to do the whole show. They counsel and advise, they pray, they whatever, and not too appropriately from my point of view. But that's another story.

Where else has my mind been today?