Murphy's Laws: as seen by Nurses

A 500 pound patient needs all care, while your 80 pound patient needs a finger dressing ... and your colleague has a "bad back."

It's your first night shift for three years. And it's a full moon.

You're doing the "Only 27 more minutes of the shift from hades happy-dance", only to turn around to see your supervisor standing there.

In a critical situation, the most highly qualified clinician will offer the most advice and the least support.

The absurdity of the suggestion is directly proportional to the distance from the bedside.

As soon as you finish a thirty minute dressing the doctor will come in, and take a look at the wound.

The disoriented patient always comes from a Nursing Home whose beautiful paperwork has no phone number on it.

Your nose will itch the very moment your gloved hands get contaminated with bodily fluids.

You walk out of a patient's room after you've asked them if they need anything: they will put the call bell on as you are about three quarters the way down the hall.

The patient furthest away from the nurses' station rings the call bell more often than the patient nearest to the nurses' station.

The doctor with the worst handwriting and most original use of the English Language will be responsible for your most critical patient.

You always remember "just one more thing" you need after you've gowned, gloved, and masked and gone into that isolation room.

The correct depth of compression in adult CPR is a bit less than the depth you just reached when you broke those ribs.

When you cancel extra staff because it's so quiet, you are guaranteed a rash of admissions.

If you wear a new white uniform, expect to be thrown up on.

When management smiles at you, be very, very afraid ...

Staffing will gladly send you three aides--but you have to float two of your RNs.