First impressions...?
I don't know if I could be a Home Health nurse -- although I admire these people greatly. I consider them angels walking on earth after today. It may be too early to decide, since today was only my first experience with it, but this is how I feel so far. I spent the day in the hood, going in and out of rundown row houses, next to condemned buildings on either side, and in and out of the projects. This may be influencing my decision not to enter the home health side of nursing, or...
It could be because of what happened last night.
(If you are at all skittish about bugs, don't read any further. I know I wouldn't...)
My dorm room has a history. It has been known to have more complaints than average because of cockroaches. (Because I am right across the hall from the bathroom, the Environmental Services people tell me the bugs sometimes crawl out of the drain in the floor, where they have been poisoned, and then wander into my room to die a slow death.) I may have scrapped the Nursing School Idea if I had known this from the start. I had a couple run-ins last year. Last night topped those.
I was just getting off the phone, lounging on my bed and thinking about my big day ahead. Then, in my peripheral vision I noticed something dark and moving by my leg. Luckily my legs had jeans on them, because my brain stem registered it was a 2-inch long cockroach and had me flying out of bed before that thought even reached my conscious mind. I literally teleported myself into the hallway. (This probably would have happened whether I was wearing clothes or not. I was not in control of my body.)
Whenever I panic about a giant bug in my room, I have trained myself to keep my eyes on it even as I exit the premises, because the worst thing would be Not To Know Where It Is. That would make the place INHABITABLE. It must be vanquished before the place can be occupied once more. So as I was airborne I saw it run up my mattress and disappear behind the head of my bed into the darkness. Vanished. (I think it saw me freak out, and then it freaked out.)
Giant Cockroach = 1...Me = Zero.
I stood in the hall staring into the room already spending the $150 on a hotel for the night because there was NO WAY I would be able to share the room with him. A savvy RA dialed my buddy who lives on the men's floor downstairs and he came rushing to the rescue. The bug crawled out from under my door and there was a loud and noisy battle with a number of large objects used as weapons. It took a long time (probably just seconds) and there was much squealing (mine). The bug said nothing, but me and the girls made a big ruckus.
Giant Cockroach = Zero...Me = a million.
After this ordeal, I wasn't quite ready to re-enter my room and went downstairs to make a call. By now it was the middle of the night. An hour later I skittishly came back up. Wouldn't you know it, there was ANOTHER ROACH lying dead in the middle of the floor! After the initial shock, I squinted at him and just knew he was faking it. Playing possum. I stormed out to get the broom and sweep him out, and when I began -- he revived and began zig zagging around. I WAS READY FOR HIM. I got him out in the hall, and like an NHL player -- I made a big slap-shot and sent him flying to the end of the hall. He immediately flipped over onto his back again and resumed dying. (That had been his big finale.) He remained dead in the hall until another less squeamish student came home and killed him again...just to be sure.
2nd Cockroach = Zero. My nerves = Zero.
I calculated the odds of seeing more bugs in my room as being unlikely (since I only saw 3 of them all last year). I know that logic was faulty, but my brain was enacting protective measures, since I needed to sleep somehow. I decided to take a sleeping pill and consoled myself that at least I'd be unconscious if they decided to crawl all over me in my sleep. Somehow this worked and I got 4 hours sleep last night before clinicals today. (It was an effing miracle.)
(What I really should have done is set a match to this room and let it burn.)
Wouldn't you know it? Today my nurse's territory was in the slums! The odds of running into roaches and other vermin were high...as I was very aware. Some of the places were so skeevy I wanted to douse myself in clorhexidine upon exiting. The patients were all so sweet and my heart broke that they were alone in these awful places. The home health nurse is sometimes the only soul they see for days, so they love to chat. I sat, nodding politely to their ramblings, clutching my bag (since I was warned to Set Nothing on the Floor) and checked the surfaces for roaches -- which I imagined were everywhere. (Clearly I had developed PTSD from last night's events.) I was like a deep-cover CIA agent scanning the room for potential terrorists.
There was one old guy whose home smelled strongly of urine. (Turns out he pees in a bucket in the kitchen so he doesn't have to attempt the stairs to the bathroom). Regardless, he was the nicest fellow ever, and very chatty. I was on high alert in his place (for bugs) because of the condition of the place. I wanted to weep for him. Well into our visit, I had been lulled into some comfort, since my initial checks said there were no bugs in my immediate presence, and I was falling in love with this patient. Then out of nowhere he yelled and pointed at the coffee table! The nurse kind of glanced at him (she has known him for months) -- but me...? I jumped out of my skin thinking "ROACH" and my feet flew up off the ground, my hands kind of covered my head, like someone had yelled "BOMB!" (I am happy to report I did not squeal.) Turns out the guy had just forgotten to point out some paperwork the nurse needed to see, and that's how he decided to communicate.
In the meantime I developed an arrhythmia.
I told my nurse all about the roach incident the night before, and she laughed and laughed and then told me all sorts of horror stories about the big ones she's seen in the homes. This did nothing to comfort me as we continued our visits for the day I can tell you.
Otherwise...I enjoyed my day. And, I'm going back in tomorrow. I only wish I could bring my broom with me.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Saturday, November 10, 2012
T-Boned
There’s that time in any action movie when things are going along nicely for our characters and then, in slow motion, a car crashes in on them from the side. Classic T-bone. Nursing school is hard enough without your personal life exploding in your face like mine did this fall.
Before my crisis happened I had seen examples of them in the lives of other nursing students around me. I had shaken my head, wondering how they were pulling through a tough program despite the challenges they faced— some just temporary bumps in the road, and others, life changing events. Maybe the unifying theme I’m uncovering is this: nurses are a gritty, determined lot. I think of nursing often in terms of warfare: bombs are going off all around, and there’s this soldier ignoring all of that to bandage a wound and make their patient safe for transport. Maybe the same person who can do that, can take a hit from life and still finish a nursing program.
At least that’s what I’ve observed so far.
Exhibit A: Vomiting up a Lung. It takes days to prepare to write a nursing exam, but of course the day before the exam is usually the most intensive. A friend of mine was missing from our study group that day, so I went looking for her. As I approached her room, the smell of vomit wafted through the hall. Turns out she had thrown up a dozen times that day and was dozing in between spells. No way she’d be able to study for the exam! Of course she could call in sick and the school would allow her to make it up the following week...but there was already an exam scheduled for that week too. Writing 2 exams in one week would be unthinkable. I didn’t see any other way, but clearly she did. She continued to be sick all night. Woke up in the morning. Threw up. Dragged herself to the exam. Passed it. And then ran and threw up some more.
I was astonished.
Exhibit B: That Baseball Knocked The Sense Right Outta You. Another exam, another study buddy came in with an impressive shiner. Into the evening he was falling asleep on his books and admitted he had been feeling nauseous and sleepy since a fastball connected with his eye socket. (Clearly he had a concussion.) The mother in me was alarmed...and I immediately offered to walk him across to the the emergency room and study with him there all night if he would just GO and get LOOKED AT. The tough bastard declined and with brute force he made it to the exam the next day.
I wanted to wring. his. stubborn. neck!
(You may have learned by now that nursing students would rather lose a LIMB than postpone an exam.)
It was my turn this fall when my personal life came crashing down around me. Suddenly I was on a plane home, missing school and our first exam to tend to a crisis. I won’t go into the sordid details because they are private, but I will say this is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Also, it had a ripple effect which followed me back to school and required hours of my attention and mental resources to help keep things on track. I failed the next 3 exams. Going into the final, I was only passing the class by 1 point. People around me and back home were praying along with me that I would somehow pull a high enough grade on the final to pass the course...which I was able to do.
It was a real nail-biter.
The emotional toll was high and I was reminded that there is NO WAY I could be doing this thing alone. Back in the wartime analogy, I felt like I had been shot and was bleeding out on the beach. Instead of letting me perish, my buddies came back at great risk to themselves and dragged me to safety.
God places people strategically around us and I have never believed that more than I do now.
And while I would never invite crisis, it did teach me something. How to ask for help. I have always liked to be the one to rally around someone and be the helper. I’m good in a jam and that’s probably why I am drawn to nursing. I’m not good at having the situation reversed. Being helpless. Powerless. Admitting that to others is so humbling. But letting people you love in, and trusting them to care for you is special too. My relationships are being redefined and reexamined because of what happened. I am thankful for that.
Its such a cliche but now its time to Pay It Forward. I got back to school after break and already there are opportunities to serve others all around me. Its so energizing to take the focus off of myself and do what I can for someone else. I look forward once again to seeing my patients. I miss them during every break.
Going into the new term I have a new theme! Recently, a friend posted a clip from a Rocky movie on Facebook and stated he recognized God in it. Ordinarily I would have cruised right past that but I was intrigued by his claim and had to watch it. I think my friend was right. What do you think?
“The world will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it...Nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. It ain’t about how hard you hit, its about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. That’s how WINNING is done!”
I was never much for Stallone, but these words hit me right where I live right now.
So its a new term and a new beginning. I have fresh optimism and renewed energy for the fight. Only two more 10-week academic terms, followed by my preceptorship. I see the finish line and that keeps me going.
Who are we kidding? God is carrying me along. He has been the whole time.
Before my crisis happened I had seen examples of them in the lives of other nursing students around me. I had shaken my head, wondering how they were pulling through a tough program despite the challenges they faced— some just temporary bumps in the road, and others, life changing events. Maybe the unifying theme I’m uncovering is this: nurses are a gritty, determined lot. I think of nursing often in terms of warfare: bombs are going off all around, and there’s this soldier ignoring all of that to bandage a wound and make their patient safe for transport. Maybe the same person who can do that, can take a hit from life and still finish a nursing program.
At least that’s what I’ve observed so far.
Exhibit A: Vomiting up a Lung. It takes days to prepare to write a nursing exam, but of course the day before the exam is usually the most intensive. A friend of mine was missing from our study group that day, so I went looking for her. As I approached her room, the smell of vomit wafted through the hall. Turns out she had thrown up a dozen times that day and was dozing in between spells. No way she’d be able to study for the exam! Of course she could call in sick and the school would allow her to make it up the following week...but there was already an exam scheduled for that week too. Writing 2 exams in one week would be unthinkable. I didn’t see any other way, but clearly she did. She continued to be sick all night. Woke up in the morning. Threw up. Dragged herself to the exam. Passed it. And then ran and threw up some more.
I was astonished.
Exhibit B: That Baseball Knocked The Sense Right Outta You. Another exam, another study buddy came in with an impressive shiner. Into the evening he was falling asleep on his books and admitted he had been feeling nauseous and sleepy since a fastball connected with his eye socket. (Clearly he had a concussion.) The mother in me was alarmed...and I immediately offered to walk him across to the the emergency room and study with him there all night if he would just GO and get LOOKED AT. The tough bastard declined and with brute force he made it to the exam the next day.
I wanted to wring. his. stubborn. neck!
(You may have learned by now that nursing students would rather lose a LIMB than postpone an exam.)
It was my turn this fall when my personal life came crashing down around me. Suddenly I was on a plane home, missing school and our first exam to tend to a crisis. I won’t go into the sordid details because they are private, but I will say this is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Also, it had a ripple effect which followed me back to school and required hours of my attention and mental resources to help keep things on track. I failed the next 3 exams. Going into the final, I was only passing the class by 1 point. People around me and back home were praying along with me that I would somehow pull a high enough grade on the final to pass the course...which I was able to do.
It was a real nail-biter.
The emotional toll was high and I was reminded that there is NO WAY I could be doing this thing alone. Back in the wartime analogy, I felt like I had been shot and was bleeding out on the beach. Instead of letting me perish, my buddies came back at great risk to themselves and dragged me to safety.
God places people strategically around us and I have never believed that more than I do now.
And while I would never invite crisis, it did teach me something. How to ask for help. I have always liked to be the one to rally around someone and be the helper. I’m good in a jam and that’s probably why I am drawn to nursing. I’m not good at having the situation reversed. Being helpless. Powerless. Admitting that to others is so humbling. But letting people you love in, and trusting them to care for you is special too. My relationships are being redefined and reexamined because of what happened. I am thankful for that.
Its such a cliche but now its time to Pay It Forward. I got back to school after break and already there are opportunities to serve others all around me. Its so energizing to take the focus off of myself and do what I can for someone else. I look forward once again to seeing my patients. I miss them during every break.
Going into the new term I have a new theme! Recently, a friend posted a clip from a Rocky movie on Facebook and stated he recognized God in it. Ordinarily I would have cruised right past that but I was intrigued by his claim and had to watch it. I think my friend was right. What do you think?
“The world will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it...Nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. It ain’t about how hard you hit, its about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. That’s how WINNING is done!”
I was never much for Stallone, but these words hit me right where I live right now.
So its a new term and a new beginning. I have fresh optimism and renewed energy for the fight. Only two more 10-week academic terms, followed by my preceptorship. I see the finish line and that keeps me going.
Who are we kidding? God is carrying me along. He has been the whole time.
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