Cosmic Fakeout

My favorite patient and God decided to play a game of cosmic PSYCH! with me today. :) Keeps me on my toes. I wasn't even at work for twenty minutes this morning (so it was around 750 or so) and I was just starting to pour my meds for the day (the 730 tylenol and puffers round) when I thought I heard someone call my name. Nah, I thought, just hearing things - they're setting tables in the dining room.
Then I heard it again. Damn. They don't call my name unless they need the charge nurse and they don't call the charge nurse unless there's something they can't handle on their own. Who died and made me charge nurse anyway??
So I went down the hallway and my LPN had a worried look on her face... "It's Bob (name changed so I can keep my liscence and I'm not creative to come up with a better name). He's not responding."

There are three voices going on in my head now:
The nurse voice, appearing in Red Cross Red, which immediately began assessing and narrowing down; this could be a stroke, a hemorrhage, neurological, related to depression, etc. etc.
The good Camille voice, appearing in an angelic color of blue, which was praying and thinking, "No God, not him, not yet. He's a good one. Would you please bring him back? Bring back the smiling little success story who says thank you for caring for me, tries to get all the nurses to read the Bible, and worries about the other patients? Please???"
The not-so-angelic Camille voice, appearing in a devilish green, was saying, "What the hell? I'm not even done swallowing my coffee yet. You couldn't have waited to stroke out on me until I had a free moment, could you? Why me? And the doc's not in the clinic yet and I've got no way to help you but to look at you and wait for him."

He's on the bed, laying with a strange smile on his face. His muscles don't do what he tells them to. His right hand squeezes not so good as his left. His responses aren't complete words and they don't make sense, and when I turn him on his back, he flops back to his right. Vitals are ok, no major abnormalities. I think he stroked overnight. Crap. And he's not under a do not resuscitate order, which means that I have to do my all short of shocking him to get this guy back ASAP. So go call the doc, leave a message for him in three different places, chart the heck out of this guy. No big deal for a nurse anywhere - this sort of thing is commonplace. But it never seems commonplace when you're in it, when you've got five racks of pills (approximately 100 pills to dispense over the next hour and they have to be on time) and your team is counting on you to help with morning care too. At one point I was coordinating tying my shoes with getting a suppository out of the bottom drawer of the med cart to save time. Finally the doc gets here (which in LTC it's an accomplishment to get the doc to call you, let alone come in person); and goes to see the man. We walk in the room, and he's laying on his back, eyes wide open, goofy smile gone, and he says, "Good morning, doctor. How are you today?"

That must have been a TIA, a little ministroke. TIA stands for transient ischemic attack but secretly I think it stands for Time to Initiate an Asskicking on nurses everywhere. He's totally fine. No signs of a stroke. It came, and ten minutes later, it went. Doc is gonna think I'm an idiot. He believes me, I know he does, but frig - you run and you worry and you do everything, and then nothing is needed.
I'm so so glad he's ok... I got my little blessing back. He even got the doctor to take home a tract to read about another missionary doctor.
Dammit, if you're gonna cause me all that stress, at least put on a show for the doc.

And they say nurses don't get paid enough. I beg to differ.