This week marked the anniversary of Sylvia Plath’s death. Plath provides the OED with its earliest recorded examples of ‘dreamscape, noun’, ‘grr, verb’, and ‘thunk, verb’ (as in, ‘to fall with a thunk’). What a wonderfully wordy woman.
Words, wonderful words. My skull expands with the feast of them!
Sylvia Plath died fifty years ago this week - but there are very few existing obituaries from the time of her death.
Marilyn and Sylvia-both have hit the half century mark with their goneness.
Be at peace beautiful women, and know you are both celebrated and missed!
As you’ve probably discovered, there are people lurking all over the web who find great joy in humiliating and attacking others. This insightful infographic describes the inner workings of Internet trolls, explaining why they decide to spend their online time in attack mode. Tapping the expertise of psychologists and experts, it offers solid reasons why this scourge of the Internet continues. We all like to think that most people mean well, and are inherently good. Even if that’s true, the infographic shows us instances where even some good people can quickly turn bad, all because of a variety of situations related to mob behavior. (via Why Do Internet Trolls Exist? [INFOGRAPHIC])
Awesome graphic with the kind of evidence based insight that makes my spider senses tingle.
Being 40 and having had a life pre-internet, I have wondered what makes these people tick. In a way, it’s a pogrom mentality. Now to understand what pulls people to the dark side.
Had a bad day
We have gone from steady to crazy-we’re-all-gonna-die busy.
One of the types of populations we see are homeless women with addiction problems (meth) who come in like their pants are on fire (meth) in labor, no prenatal care.
My last patient was one such a lady.
Had to get ER on call doc for her and do the prenatal blood work and ultrasound while she’s screaming, and I mean SCREAMING, swearing worse than me on a bad day, and insulting every person that comes within spitting distance of her.
Even the phlebo and us tech came out to me like “WTF?”
And I’m used to this crap, but she still got under my skin.
Eight hours I spent at her bedside. Straight. Trying
So I try desperately to get her an epidural, but due to the non-stop emergency surgeries, anesthesia is otherwise occupied.
In the meantime she’s keeping us all amused with her witticisms like “Your throat wouldn’t be so fucking sore if you didn’t suck so much dick,” as she said to her mom.
Thankfully, she was going pretty fast so I was able to able to pretend “this will all be over soon”.
It wasn’t. Everything that could go wrong, did.
We started out in the first (of four) OR rooms so baby could be passed to intensive care nursery after delivery.
Of course we are in the only clean and fully functioning OR room, so when the next emergency c-section hit the unit the doctor and I had to pack up our caravan of patient in bed, monitor, delivery table, and charts to migrate into the teeny tiny itsy bitsy spare room for the banshee to scream her baby out.
The fob (father of baby) found the whole thing hilarious (and he wasn’t lifting a finger) and I have admit his toothless grin was mildly endearing.
Eventually, the woman gives birth. We were expecting a pre-termer based on her incoherent dates and small size. But, NO. The kid is full term, just small (maybe had something to do with the pre-natal smoking and fondness for meth). So I get to now get a baby that mom isn’t thrilled to have and I got no one,except my doc to schlep the caravan back to the room.
Back we go, mom cursing the whole way. “I’m fucking hungry!” “My fucking pussy hurts.”
What a peach.
So I bust my hump getting her recovery done and transferred to post partum because the whole unit is sick of her uncontrolled bipolar wigouts.
2 hours. It took 2 hours for that little chickie to assault her post partum nurse and bounce.
Sans baby. But she can always get another one, right?
It’s been busy at work.
Normally, winter is our slower season, but it’s not noticeably so.
I ended up as resource (the Jane of all trades) for the last two shifts, which has become my second favorite way to spend 12 hours There, after charge.
Got an ambulance toward the end of the last day, those always go one of two ways.
911 is a taxi service, and they hop off the gurney, wondering if their water broke or if the intercourse they just had can account for the stuff oozing down their leg.
They’re sick as all hell and barfing blood.
We got the latter.
She was very uncommunicative which was uber frustrating when you’re trying to find out things like How Long have you been vomiting coffee grounds? Perchance, WHY are you vomiting blood?
But no, just a general “leave me the fuck alone”.
I did what any resource nurse worth her salt would do-call the doctor, get her to lay eyes on the wretched creature, and agree to send her to ER. To heck with working her up for OB stuff. Do an ultrasound-BPP-down there, and off with her Ebola spewing self.
Usually ER flushes the toilet on US, so turn about was quite satisfying.
Off to another 12…..