tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4723755846699098373.post2113561916541203814..comments2024-03-23T17:49:56.783-07:00Comments on oldfoolrn: The Daring Ortho Patient on The Flying TrapezeOldfoolrnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01747485143127099085noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4723755846699098373.post-14066109824941523482023-10-26T04:59:10.247-07:002023-10-26T04:59:10.247-07:00I was fascinated by your blog post on the daring o...I was fascinated by your blog post on the daring ortho patient! It's incredible how bravery and modern healthcare intersect. Speaking of which, if anyone needs top-notch care, our <a href="https://www.sugamhospital.com/Orthopaedics.html" rel="nofollow">Ortho Hospital In Chrompet</a> provides exceptional services. Keep up the inspiring work! Krithikahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05014875655085138486noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4723755846699098373.post-17780650500996985712021-05-12T13:34:19.119-07:002021-05-12T13:34:19.119-07:00The "good old days" were definitely not ...The "good old days" were definitely not so great when it came to orthopedics. We were required to have 3,000 hours of "service" AKA as back breaking work to graduate from nursing diploma school and most of mine was pent on the ortho ward because of my lifting skills. What a miserable place for patients, so hot in the summer and the only patient comfort measure I could come up with was artfully bending wire coat hangers to thread down those heavy casts to scratch a previously unreachable itch.<br /><br />Thankfully open reductions have done away with the extended bed rest and long term immobility induced by gruesome traction apparatus. If you want to see to see some orthopedic miracles check out orthopedic_trauma on Instagram. His work is superb!<br /><br />Thanks so much for taking time to leave a comment. You made my day and sparked an idea for a post about orthopedic or fracture bedpans. They were among the most useless pieces of medical equipment (if you could call it that) ever designed. There was absolutely no clearance for poop to properly drop into the thing as it was being extruded so it was ram rodded and plastered up against the poor patients skin which greatly exacerbated clean up. It was so crude that it was often kinder to just tell the patient to let it go on a plain old blue pad sans the fracture pan. What a sad state of affairs.<br /><br />Thanks again for commenting on my foolishness and I'm so glad you recovered despite the trauma inflicted.Oldfoolrnhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01747485143127099085noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4723755846699098373.post-53496707164757090162021-05-12T05:45:32.662-07:002021-05-12T05:45:32.662-07:00I remember those contraptions. I broke my leg in t...I remember those contraptions. I broke my leg in the 70's at 10 and was in traction for a little over 2 months with 1 leg strung up in the air with weights on the end of rope to keep it tight I guess. That hospital stay traumatized the crap out of me. And yea, some of those nurses could ignore screaming like no big deal. You were at their mercy. I remember 1 time I had to poop and was calling for a long time for someone to come. Pushing the buzzer. Nada. Then a nurse answers the phone at the desk right outside my door and I'm screaming for her. She hangs up that phone and just calmly walks away down the hall. I couldn't hold it anymore. When someone finally shows up they give me the riot act. Then tells me that they are bringing a new patient in for the bed next to me, a teenage girl, and maybe she should just leave me there like that as a lesson. I explained about the nurse on the phone. Blank stare like "right kid". Most of the nurses were super compassionate, but a few, ugh... I wish I knew some of those tricks with the trapeze bar. LOL... Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com