CaliforniaPeggy
CaliforniaPeggy's JournalSome funny signs:
A SIGN IN A SHOE REPAIR STORE IN VANCOUVER READS:
We will heel you
We will save your sole
We will even dye for you.
A SIGN ON A BLINDS AND CURTAIN TRUCK:
Blind man driving.
Sign over a Gynecologists Office:
"Dr. Jones, at your cervix.
In a Podiatrist's office:
"Time wounds all heels.
On a Septic Tank Truck :
Yesterday's Meals on Wheels
At an Optometrist's Office :
"If you don't see what you're looking for,
You've come to the right place."
On a Plumber's truck :
"We repair what your husband fixed.
On another Plumber's truck :
"Don't sleep with a drip. Call your plumber.
At a Tire Shop in Milwaukee :
"Invite us to your next blowout.
On an Electrician's truck :
"Let us remove your shorts.
In a Non-smoking Area:
"If we see smoke, we will assume you are on fire and will take appropriate action.
On a Maternity Room door :
"Push. Push. Push.
At a Car Dealership :
"The best way to get back on your feet - miss a car payment.
Outside a Muffler Shop:
"No appointment necessary. We hear you coming.
In a Veterinarian's waiting room :
"Be back in 5 minutes. Sit! Stay!
At the Electric Company:
"We would be delighted if you send in your payment on time. However, if you don't, YOU will be de-lighted.
In a Restaurant window:
"Don't stand there and be hungry; come on in and get fed up.
In the front yard of a Funeral Home :
"Drive carefully. We'll wait.
At a Propane Filling Station:
"Thank Heaven for little grills.
In a Chicago Radiator Shop:
"Best place in town to take a leak.
And the best one for last
Sign on the back of another Septic Tank Truck:
"Caution - This Truck is full of Political Promises
From a Covid ICU RN in NYC: What it's like to work on Covid patients. A long read but well done.
Julianne Nicole
April 24 at 6:49 PM · Public
All Quiet on the Eastern Front
I am a Covid ICU nurse in New York City, and yesterday, like many other days lately, I couldnt fix my patient. Sure, that happens all the time in the ICU. It definitely wasnt the first time. It certainly wont be the last. What makes this patient noteworthy? A few things, actually. He was infected with Covid 19, and he lost his battle with Covid 19. He was only 23 years old.
I was destroyed by his clinical course in a way that has only happened a few times in my nursing career. It wasnt his presentation. Ive seen that before. It wasnt his complications. Ive seen that too.
It was the grief. It was his parents. The grief I witnessed yesterday, was grief that I havent allowed myself to recognize since this runaway train got rolling here in early March. I could sense it. It was lingering in the periphery of my mind, but yesterday something in me gave way, and that grief rushed in.
I think I was struck by a lot of emotions and realities yesterday. Emotions that have been brewing for weeks, and realities that I have been stifling because I had to in order to do my job effectively. My therapist tells me weekly via facetime that its impossible to process trauma when the trauma is still occurring. It just keeps building.
I get home from work, take my trusty companion Apollo immediately out to pee, hes been home for 14 hours at a time. I have to keep my dog walker safe. No one can come into my apartment.
Ive already been very sick from my work exposure, and Im heavily exposed every day that I work since I returned after being 72 hours afebrile, the new standard for healthcare workers. That was after a week of running a fever of 104 even with Tylenol around the clock, but thankfully without respiratory symptoms. I was lucky.
Like every other healthcare worker on the planet right now, I strip inside the door, throw all the scrubs in the wash, bleach wipe all of my every day carry supplies, shoes and work bag stay at the bottom of the stairs.
You see, theres a descending level of Covid contamination as you ascend the stairs just inside my apartment door. Work bag and shoes stay at the bottom. Dog walking shoes next step up, then dog leash, then running shoes.
I dodge my excited and doofy German shepherd, who is bringing me every toy he has to play with, and I go and scald myself for 20 minutes in a hot shower. Washing off the germs, metaphorically washing off the weight of the day.
We play fetch after the shower. Once hes tired, I lay on the floor with him, holding him tight, until Im ready to get up and eat, but sometimes I just go straight to bed, awakening frequently to the echoing sounds of alarms in our minds, horrific nightmares that plague our resting hours. We awaken tired and anxious. Then, we do it all again.
Quite honestly, Im so tired of the death. With three days off from what has been two months of literal hell on earth as a Covid ICU nurse in NYC, Im having an evening glass of wine, and munching on the twizzlers my dear aunt sent me from Upstate NY, while my dog is bouncing off the walls because I still dont have the energy to run every day with him.
Is it the residual effects of the virus? Is it just general exhaustion from working three days in a row? Regardless, the thoughts are finally bleeding out of my mind and into a medium that Im not sure could possibly convey the reality of this experience.
Theres been a significant change in how we approach the critically ill covid-infected patients on a number of different levels over the last two months. Were learning about the virus. Were following trends and patterns. We are researching as we are treating.
The reality is, the people who get sick later in this pandemic will have a better chance for survival. Yet, every day working feels like Groundhog Day. All of the patients have developed the same issues. This 23-year-old kid walked around for a week silently hypoxic and silently dying. By the time he got to us, it was already far too late.
First pneumonia, then Acute Respiratory Distress Syndrome (ARDS), essentially lung failure. Then kidney failure from global hypoxia and the medications we were giving in the beginning, desperately trying to find something that works. Then learning that it doesnt work, its doing more harm than good in the critical care Covid population.
Dialysis for the kidneys. They are so sick that your normal three-times weekly dialysis schedule is too harsh on their body. Theyre too unstable. So, we, the ICU nurses, run the dialysis slowly and continuously.
They are all obstructing their bowels from the ever-changing array of medications, as we ran out of some medications completely during our surge. We had to substitute alternatives, narcotics, sedatives, and paralytics, medications were heavily sedating and treating their pain with, in an effort to help them tolerate barbaric ventilator settings.
Barbaric ventilator settings while lying them on their bellies because their lungs are so damaged that we have to flip them onto their bellies in an effort to perfuse the functioning lung tissue and ventilate the damaged lungs.
Lungs that are perfused with blood that doesnt even have adequate oxygen carrying capacity because of how this virus attacks.
Blood that clots. And bleeds. And clots. And bleeds. Everything in their bodies is deranged. Treat the clots with continuous anticoagulation. Stop the anticoagulation when they bleed.
GI bleeds, brain bleeds, pulmonary emboli, strokes.
Restart the anticoagulation when they clot their continuous or intermittent dialysis filters, rendering them unusable, because were trying not to let them die slowly from renal failure. We are constantly making impossible treatment decisions in the critical care pandemic population.
A lot of people have asked me what its like here. I truly dont have adequate descriptors in my vocabulary, try as I might, so Ill defer to the metaphor of fire.
We are attempting to put out one fire, while three more are cropping up. Then we find out a week or two later that we unknowingly threw gasoline on one fire, because theres still so much we dont know about this virus.
Then suddenly theres no water to fight the fire with. Were running around holding ice cubes in an effort to put out an inferno. Oh yeah, and the entire time youve been in this burning building, you barely have what you need to protect yourself.
The protection youre using, the guidelines governing that protection, evolved with the surge. One-time use N95? Thats the prior standard, and after what weve been through, thats honestly hysterical. As we were surging here, the CDC revised their guidelines, because the PPE shortage was so critical.
Use anything, they said. Use whatever you have for as long as you can, and improvise what you dont have.
As were discussing medication and viral research, starting clinical trials, talking treatment options in morning rounds for your patient with the team of doctors and clinical pharmacists, suddenly, surprise! Your patient developed a mucous plug in his breathing tube.
Yes, that vital, precious tube thats connected to the ventilator thats breathing for them. Its completely plugged. Blocked. No oxygen or carbon dioxide in or out. Its a critical emergency.
Even with nebulizer treatments, once we finally had the closed-delivery systems we needed to administer these medications and keep ourselves safe, theyre still plugging. We cannot even routinely suction unless we absolutely have to because suctioning steals all of the positive pressure thats keeping them alive from the ventilator circuit. One routine suction pass down the breathing tube could kill someone, or leave their body and vital organs hypoxic for hours after.
Well, now theyre plugged. We are then faced with a choice. Both choices place the respiratory therapists, nurses, and doctors at extremely high risk for aerosolized exposure.
We could exchange the breathing tube, but that could take too long, the patient may die in the 2-3 minutes we need to assemble the supplies and manpower needed, and its one of the highest-risk procedures for our providers that we could possibly carry out.
Or we could use the clamps that have been the best addition to my every day carry nursing arsenal. You yell for help, youre alone in the room. Your friends and coworkers, respiratory therapists, doctors, are all rushing to get their PPE on and get into the room to help.
You move around the room cluttered with machines and life sustaining therapies to set up what you need to stave off death. You move deliberately, and you move FAST. The patient is decompensating in the now-familiar and coordinated effort to intervene.
Attach the ambu bag to wall oxygen. Turn it all the way up. Wheres the PEEP valve? God, someone go grab me the PEEP valve off the ambu bag in room 11 next door. We ran out of those a month ago, too. Its all covid anyway, all of it is covid. Risk cross-contamination or risk imminent death for your patient, risk extreme viral load exposure for you and your coworkers, and most certain death for your patient if you intervene without a PEEP valve.
You clamp the breathing tube, tight. The respiratory therapist shuts off the ventilator, because that side of the circuit can aerosolize and spray virus too if you leave it blasting air after you disconnect. Open the circuit. Respiratory therapy attaches the ambu bag. You unclamp. Bag, bag, bag. Clear the plug. The patients oxygen saturation is 23% with a PERFECT waveform. Their heart rate is slowing. Their blood pressure is tanking. Max all your drips, then watch and wait while this patient takes 3 hours to recover to a measly oxygen saturation of 82%, the best youll get from them all shift. These patients have no pulmonary reserve.
All of our choices to intervene in this situation risk our own health and safety. In the beginning we were more cautious with ourselves. We dont want to get sick. We dont want to be a patient in our own ICU. Weve cared for our own staff in our ICUs. We dont want to die. Now? Ive already been sick. I am so, so tired of the constant death that is the ICU, that personally, I will do anything as long as I have my weeks old N95 and face shield on, just to keep someone alive.
Ive realized that for many of these patients in the ICU, it wont matter what I do. It wont matter how hard I work, though Ill still work like a crazy person all day, aggressively advocate for my patients in the same way.
My coworkers will go without meals, even though theyre being donated and delivered by people who love and support you. Generous people are helping to keep local restaurants afloat. We can always take the meal home for dinner, or I can devour a slice of pizza as I walk out to my truck parked on the pier, a walk I look forward to every day, because it gives me about eight minutes of silence. To process. To reflect.
Ill chug a Gatorade when I start feeling lightheaded and Im seeing stars, immediately after I just pushed an amp of bicarb on a patient and I know I have at least five minutes of a stable blood pressure to step out of the unit, take off my mask and actually breathe.
Every dedicated staff member is working tirelessly to help. The now-closed dental clinic staff has been trained to work in the respiratory lab to run our arterial blood gases, so that the absolutely incredible respiratory therapists who we so desperately need can take care of the patients with us.
Nurses in procedural areas that were closed have been repurposed to work as runners. To run for supplies while the primary nurse is in an isolation room trying to stabilize a patient without the supplies they need, runners to run for blood transfusions.
Physical therapists, occupational therapists, speech and language pathologists being repurposed to be part of the proning teams that helps the nurses turn patients onto their backs and bellies amidst a tangled web of critical lines and tubes, where one small error could mean death for the patient, and exposure for all staff.
Anesthesiologists and residents are managing airways and lines when carrying out these massive patient position changes. Surgical residents are all over the hospital just to put in the critical invasive lines we need in all of our patients.
The travel nurses who rushed into this burning building to help us are easing a healthcare system. The first travel nurse I met came all the way from Texas. Others terminated their steady employment to enlist with a travel agency to help us. Every day there are more travelers arriving.
A nurse from LA came to me after she found out I was part of the home staff, in my home unit, where this all first started in my hospital what feels like a lifetime ago, and said, I came here for you. For all of the nurses. Because I couldnt imagine working the way you guys were working for how long you were working like that. During our surge and peak in the ICU, we were 1:3 ratios with three patients who normally would be a 1:1 assignment. And they were all trying to die at the same time. We were having to choose which patients we were rushing to because we couldnt help them all at the same time.
The overhead pages for emergencies throughout the hospital rang out and echoed endlessly. Every minute, another rapid response call. Another anesthesia page for an intubation. Another cardiopulmonary arrest. A hospital bursting at the seams with death. Refrigerated trailers being filled.
First it was our normal white body bags. Then orange disaster bags. Then blue tarp bags. We ran out of those too. Now, black bags.
The heartbreakingly unique part of this pandemic, is that these patients are so alone. We are here, but they are suffering alone, with no familiar face or voice. They are dying alone, surrounded by strangers crying into their own masks, trying not to let our precious N95 get wet, trying not to touch our faces with contaminated hands.
Their families are home, waiting for the phone call with their daily update. Some of their loved ones are also sick and quarantined at home.
Can you even IMAGINE? Your husband or wife, mother or father. Sibling. Your child. You drop your loved one off at the emergency department entrance, and you never, ever see them alive again.
Families are home, getting phone calls every day that theyre getting worse. Or maybe theyre getting better. Unfortunately, the ICU in what has quickly become the global epicenter for this pandemic is not a happy place. We are mostly purgatory where I work, so this snapshot may be more morbid than most.
These people are saying goodbye to their loved ones, while theyre still walking and talking, and then maybe a week or two later, theyre just gone. Its like they disappeared into thin air.
That level of grief is absolutely astounding to me, and thats coming from a person who knows grief. I held my young husbands hand when his heart stopped beating. I was there. That grief changes you immeasurably.
But this grief? This pandemic grief? Its inconceivable. These families will suffer horribly, every day for the rest of their lives. They might not even be able to bury their loved one. God, if they cant afford a funeral with an economic shut-down, their loved one will be buried in a mass grave on Hart Island with thousands of others like them. What grave will they have to visit on birthdays and holidays?
Yesterday, I was preparing for a bedside endoscopy procedure to secure a catastrophic GI bleed in this 23-year-old patient.
It was a bleed that required a massive transfusion protocol where the blood bank releases coolers of uncrossmatched O negative blood in an emergency, an overhead page that, ironically, I heard as I was getting into the elevator to head to the fourth floor for my shift yesterday morning; a massive transfusion protocol that I found out I would own as a primary nurse, as I desperately squeezed liters of IV fluids into this patient until we got the cooler full of blood products, and then pumped this patient full of units of blood until we could intervene with endoscopy.
Before the procedure, I stopped everything I was doing that wasnt life-sustaining. I stopped gathering supplies to start and assist with the procedure.
I told the doctors that I would not do a required time-out procedure until I got my phone out, and I facetimed this kids mom because I didnt think he would survive the bedside procedure.
She cried. She wailed. She begged her son to open his eyes, to breathe. She begged me to help her. Ayudame. Ayudame. She begged me to help him. She sang to him. She told him he was strong. She told him how much she loved him. I listened to her heart breaking in real time while she talked to her son, while she saw his swollen face, her baby boy, dying before her eyes through a phone.
Later in the day, after the procedure, his mom and dad came to the hospital. He survived the securement of the bleed, but he was still getting worse no matter what we did. Hes going to die. And against policy, we fought to get them up to see their son.
We found them masks and gowns that were still rationing in the hospital, and we let his parents see him, hold him. We let them be with their son.
Like every other nurse would do in the ICU here, I bounced around the room, moving mom from one side of the bed to the other and back again, so I could do what I needed to do, setting up my continuous dialysis machine, with the ONE filter that supply sent up for my use to initiate dialysis therapy. This spaceship-like machine, finicky as all hell, and I had one shot to prime this machine successfully to start dialysis therapy to try to slowly correct the metabolic acidosis that was just ONE of the problems that was killing him as his systolic blood pressure lingered in the 70s, despite maxing all of my blood pressure mediations.
Continuous dialysis started. You press start and hold your breath. Youre not removing any fluid, just filtering the blood, but even the tiniest of fluid shifts in this patient could kill him. But you have no choice.
His vital signs started to look concerning. I could feel the dread in the pit of my stomach, this was going south very quickly. Another nurse and the patients father had to physically drag this mother out of the room so we could fill the room with the brains and eyes and hands that would keep this boy alive for another hour.
She wailed in the hallway. Nurses in the next unit down the hall heard her cries through two sets of closed fire doors. We worked furiously to stabilize him for the next four hours.
Twenty minutes before the end of my shift last night, I sat with the attending physician and the parents in a quiet and deserted family waiting room outside the unit. I told his mother that no matter what I do, I cannot fix this. I have maximized everything I have, every tool and medicine at my disposal to save her son. I cant save her son.
The doctor explained that no matter what we do, his body is failing him. No matter what we do, her son will die. They realized that no matter how hard they pray, no matter how much they want to tear down walls, no matter how many times his mother begs and pleads, take me instead, I would rather die myself than lose my son, we cannot save him.
We stayed while she screamed. We stayed until she finally let go of her vice grip on my hands, her body trembling uncontrollably, as she dissolved into her grief, in the arms of her husband.
This is ONE patient. One patient, in one ICU, in one hospital, in one city, in one country, on a planet being ravaged by a virus.
This is the tiniest, devastating snapshot of one patient and one family and their unimaginable grief. Yet, the weight is enormous.
The world should feel that weight too. Because this grief, this heartbreak is everywhere in many forms. Every person on this planet is grieving the loss of something.
Whether thats freedom or autonomy sacrificed for the greater good. Whether thats a paycheck or a business, or their livelihood, or maybe theyre grieving the loss of a loved one while still fighting to earn a paycheck, or waiting for government financial relief that they dont know for certain will come. Maybe theyre a high school senior who will never get to have the graduation they dreamed of. Maybe theyre a college senior, who wont get to have their senior game they so looked forward to. Maybe theyre afraid that the government is encroaching on their constitutional rights. Maybe its their first pregnancy, and its nothing like they imagined because of the terrifying world surrounding them.
Or maybe they lost a loved one, maybe someone they love is sick, and they cant go see them, because there are no visitors allowed and theyre an essential worker. Maybe all they can see of someone they love is a random facetime call in the middle of the day from an area code and a number they dont know.
Everyone is grieving. Weve heard plenty of the publics grief.
I dont blame anyone for how theyre coping with that grief, even if it frustrates the ever-living hell out of me as I drown in death every day at work. Its all valid. Everyones grief is different, but it doesnt change the discomfort, the despair on various levels. We are at the bottom of Maslows hierarchy of needs. Basic survival, physiological and safety needs. Ive been here before. I know this feeling. How we survive is how we survive.
Now that Ive had the time to reflect and write, now that Ive let the walls down in my mind to let the grief flood in, now that Ive seen this grief for what feels like the thousandth time since the first week of March as a nurse in a Covid ICU in New York City, its time you heard our side. This is devastating. This is our reality. This is our grief.
Need to laugh? Here you go!
Ontario has banned groups larger than five. If youre a family of 6, youre all about to find out whos the least favorite!
The longer this goes on, the harder it will be to return to a society where pants and bras are required!
Happy hour is starting earlier and earlier.
If this keeps up, Ill be pouring wine in my cereal!
Todays Weather? Room temperature
30 Days Hath September, April, June and November All the rest have 31
except March which had 8000
Is a sub-clinical case of covid19 possible? I wonder.
And I mean this as not just asymptomatic, but not even detectable.
On edit: A subclinical infection sometimes called a preinfection or inapparent infection is an infection that, being subclinical, is nearly or completely asymptomatic. Wikipedia
A friend of mine sent me a link to many famous museums, castles and other wonderful places.
I thought maybe some of you might like to have a look!
Virtual Travel Sites take you where you might not be able to go!
Enjoy!
World Museums
Anne Franke Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands - https://www.annefrank.org/en/museum/web-and-digital/
British Museum, London - https://britishmuseum.withgoogle.com/
Guggenheim, Bilbao, Spain - https://www.guggenheim-bilbao.eus/en
Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg, Russia -
Louvre Museum Paris - https://www.louvre.fr/en/visites-en-ligne
MASP, Sao Paolo, Brazil - https://masp.org.br/en
Met Museum, New York - https://www.metmuseum.org/art/online-features/met-360-project
Musée dOrsay, Paris - https://m.musee-orsay.fr/en/home.html
Musei Vaticani, Vatican City - http://www.museivaticani.va/content/museivaticani/en/collezioni/musei/tour-virtuali-elenco.html
Museum Of London Docklands - https://www.museumoflondon.org.uk/about-us/business-services/venue-hire/museum-london-docklands/virtual-tour
National Gallery Of Arts, Washington DC - https://www.nga.gov/
National Gallery, London - https://www.nationalgallery.org.uk/visiting/virtual-tours
National Museum Of US Air Forces - https://www.nationalmuseum.af.mil/
Natural History Museum, London - https://artsandculture.google.com/streetview/the-natural-history-museum-hintze-hall/yQHjHCmSOMKyhQ
Palestine Museum - https://www.palmuseum.org/ehxibitions/virtual-exhibitions
Picasso Museum, Barcelona - http://www.bcn.cat/museupicasso/en/museum/presentation.html
Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Netherlands - https://artsandculture.google.com/partner/rijksmuseum
Royal Academy Of Arts, London - https://britishart.yale.edu/
Salvatore Dali Museum, Figueres, Spain - https://www.salvador-dali.org/en/museums/dali-theatre-museum-in-figueres/visita-virtual/#
Tate Britain, London - https://www.tate.org.uk/visit/tate-britain/display/walk-through-british-art
The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles, United States - https://artsandculture.google.com/partner/the-j-paul-getty-museum
The Museum of Flight - https://museumofflight.org/Explore-The-Museum/Virtual-Museum-Online
The National Museum of Computing on Bletchley Park - https://britishart.yale.edu/
Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy - https://artsandculture.google.com/partner/uffizi-gallery
US Holocaust Museum - https://www.ushmm.org/information/exhibitions/online-exhibitions
Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands - https://artsandculture.google.com/partner/van-gogh-museum
Virginia Living Museum - https://thevlm.org/visit/about-us/covid-19-update/natural-education/
Women's History Museum, Virginia, USA - https://www.womenshistory.org/womens-history/online-exhibits
Yale Centre For British Art - https://britishart.yale.edu/
Tourist Destinations
Buckingham Palace, London - https://www.royal.uk/virtual-tours-buckingham-palace
Colosseum, Rome - https://tinyurl.com/thrprzf
Machu Picchu - https://www.youvisit.com/tour/machupicchu?pl=f
Northern Lights - https://explore.org/livecams/aurora-borealis-northern-lights/northern-lights-cam
Pyramids - https://www.tripsavvy.com/virtual-field-trip-pyramids-1259200
Stonehenge - https://tinyurl.com/wz3xgz7
Street Art with Google - https://streetart.withgoogle.com/en/
Taj Mahal, Agra, India - https://tinyurl.com/qpz7vmt
The Great Wall Of China - https://www.thechinaguide.com/destination/great-wall-of-china
Tour of Rome, Italy - https://tinyurl.com/s5vlzbc
General Sites
AirPano - https://www.airpano.com/
Berliner Philharominker - https://www.digitalconcerthall.com/en/home
ExoPlanets NASA - https://exoplanets.nasa.gov/
Legoland - https://www.legoland.dk/en/accommodation/hotel-legoland/virtual-tour/
NASA, Langley Research Centre - https://oh.larc.nasa.gov/oh/
The Kennedy Centre - https://www.kennedy-center.org/digitalstage/
Walt Disney Parks - https://tinyurl.com/v7qano5
Wellcome Collection - https://my.matterport.com/show/?m=rMGsprcVCAR
Zoos
African Animals - https://explore.org/livecams/african-wildlife/african-animal-lookout-camera
Atlanta Zoo - https://zooatlanta.org/panda-cam/
Cincinnati Zoo - https://www.facebook.com/events/2915534028492292/
Dublin Zoo - https://www.dublinzoo.ie/animals/animal-webcams/elephants/
Edinburgh Zoo - https://www.edinburghzoo.org.uk/webcams/panda-cam/
Explore.org Live Cams - https://explore.org/livecams
Flamingo Land - https://www.flamingoland.co.uk/virtual-tour/
Florida Aquarium - http://www.flaquarium.org/sea-span
Hirakawa Zoo, Japan - https://hirakawazoo.jp/animal/movie
International Wolf Centre - https://wolf.org/wolf-cams2/
Kansas City Zoo - https://www.kansascityzoo.org/ouranimals/list-of-animals/king-penguin/
Melbourne Zoo - https://www.zoo.org.au/animal-house
National Aquarium, USA - https://www.aqua.org/Experience/live
National Zoo, Washington DC - https://nationalzoo.si.edu/webcams
Osaka Zoo - http://www.wombat-tv.com/
San Diego, California, Zoo - https://zoo.sandiegozoo.org/live-cams
Smithsonian, Washington DC - https://nationalzoo.si.edu/webcams
Yellowstone National Park - https://www.nps.gov/yell/learn/photosmultimedia/virtualtours.htm
On Edit: please feel free to copy and paste this list and send it on to anyone you think would enjoy it!
Profile Information
Name: PeggyGender: Female
Hometown: Manhattan Beach, CA
Home country: USA
Current location: At home
Member since: Thu Feb 3, 2005, 02:41 PM
Number of posts: 149,583