Our final clinical day of the term was an easy one: teach the elderly at a senior center about diabetes at a health fair. When I woke up and saw the temperature was 7 degrees outside I tried to devise reasons to stay in bed and predicted that our event would be poorly attended. I know if I were elderly...I'd stay home when it was that cold outside. The weather reminded me of another freezing experience during college in Montana when I needed to use a pay phone at a gas station during a road trip. It was so cold the buttons wouldn't push, and the handset was too frozen to lift. Today it's that kind of cold here.
But these are hearty Pittsburghers...and some of them DID show up. We were welcomed warmly and they really appreciated our bowls of sugar free candies there to tempt them to talk to us. They appreciated them SO much with their repeated visits to the bowl to fill their pockets, I finally got worried and started warning them: "Please be careful how many of those you eat at one time...the sweetener in them can give you diarrhea."
I imagined hoards of elderly with their slow-motion shuffle hurrying to the bathroom with a case of the runs. Nasty image.
Its a challenge teaching people in their 80's and 90's about prevention. I'd animatedly explain diet and exercise and watch their eyes glaze over. Like they'd never heard THAT before. So many of them just want to talk. They'd pull up a chair and start telling me their life story. I would have worried more about that had we been very busy, but the cold kept so many away that I didn't mind. It was a short day and I went home directly and took a nap.
Later, I headed to hip hop class -- kind of Zumba thing. It's too cold out to run so I'm trying to dance a few times a week instead. I like partner dancing most, but this class is too much fun. The style is as far out of my comfort zone as is possible, however. I think my spine may just leave me. After dancing ballet from the age of 3, it's not really a natural movement for me to disconnect my ass and hips the way they do. But I'd like to figure it out -- and it feels good to get a good sweat on even if I look like the whitest girl in the room.
Its another light school day tomorrow and it will also be the big push for Friday's final. Last week was so hectic I needed to take some long breaks this week to rest my brain...I hope it doesn't desert me for the last 2 exams.
We have a week off before the next term and for the first time, I'm not flying home. Trying to devise some local touristy things to do, since this will really be my only chance before graduation.
It feels weird to write "graduation" but there are only 20 academic weeks left. A big decision over the next month is to decide where I want to do my preceptorship. We have 200 hours in our final term working as a nurse with a full patient load in an area of our choosing. Since so much experience is gained, I see this as a chance to work toward my area of interest, since it could lead to a job.
I just have to decide my area of interest!
Right now I'm leaning toward ER, but this is before having had my rotations in labor and delivery, mother / baby, NICU and pediatrics. I have already ruled out pediatrics but the others I'm staying open to.
More on this as we go.
It's 2:26 a.m. and I have more to do for pharmacology. This has been a nice procrastination, but the fun's over.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Babies Holler When They See Me Coming
Clinic nursing just wrapped up today.
We spent four days in a free (or low cost) clinic in a depressing, rundown town outside of the city. I can't exactly tell what the nurses did that was different from a tech; we did a lot of vitals, blood draws and labs.
Big deal.
It wasn't enough nursing for me. Yawn! Other than sticking a lot of veins, I was bored out of my gourd. I suppose the only thing I liked was not having to roll around with a cart dispensing hundreds of pills like on med-surg. (Not implying that's ALL they do...but it sometimes feels like it.)
A few highlights:
We spent four days in a free (or low cost) clinic in a depressing, rundown town outside of the city. I can't exactly tell what the nurses did that was different from a tech; we did a lot of vitals, blood draws and labs.
Big deal.
It wasn't enough nursing for me. Yawn! Other than sticking a lot of veins, I was bored out of my gourd. I suppose the only thing I liked was not having to roll around with a cart dispensing hundreds of pills like on med-surg. (Not implying that's ALL they do...but it sometimes feels like it.)
A few highlights:
- The round, fat 7 month old infant there with an ear infection, just stared googley-eyed at me while I interviewed his mom, but when I came at him with my stethoscope it was all over. He hollered uncontrollably like I was ripping him limb from limb. He screamed when I weighed him. When I measured him. He even tried to cry when his mom nursed him to calm him down. I wanted to reason with him: "Hey kid -- what if I was here to give you your shots? Quit being such a baby, baby!" (I feel this is foreshadowing, since my next rotation is pediatrics. I dread it.)
- The young woman there for some labs. I giddily got ready to stick her. I love finding veins. Unfortunately she didn't have any. Grrrr. I had been on a high the whole time because I hadn't missed yet, and she was my very last blood draw for the term, and then she had to ruin my record. She claims she doesn't use IV drugs, but my instructor and the med tech begged to differ. I don't know how she looked me in the eye and denied it with all the scars on her arms, but whatever. She blew my record and I'm pissed. My only consolation is even the med tech hadn't seen arms that bad in all her years and sent her to the lab for blood work after she failed twice.
- The jokes between the doc and staff regarding drug-seeking patients. Doc: "It's not you it's me. I just don't think we should see each other anymore. I'm not ready for a long term relationship!" Hahahahahah! I saw her get hit up so many times, I can see how she'd get burned out.
- One of the docs didn't speak English as her first language. She also scared me, this tiny powerhouse. I had to fight not to burst out laughing, nervous as I was, when I watched her interview this old guy. She said, "Any veezing?" He said, "What?!" "Veezing." He cocked his head and looked across at me for help, but I was damned if I was going to correct her and get sent from the room. I just had to raise my brows and shrug. She said it again, "Veezing...VEEZING!" (I quietly wiped tears from my eyes and looked away, before the poor guy looked my way again). Finally he triumphantly shouted, "OH...WHEEZING!!!" He looked so relieved, and he and I shared a private moment of joy.
Anyway, clinic nursing is not for me. I'm beginning to narrow down my path in terms of selecting the place where I will do my preceptorship during our last term. I really appreciate how widely spread our clinical experiences are since there are so many directions to take for a nursing career. This school does an amazing job of exposing us to our options.
Wrapping up the term:
The freshman are looking haggard in their second term. Sadly, I wonder how many they will lose from their class next Friday. There's the complete triumph of making it yourself, only to look around while you celebrate and realize a few of your classmates aren't there. Our class bled off a few people every term and now only the veterans remain. I'm trying to keep the spirits up for the students I mentor.
Just 7 more school days left in this term. If I think about how many exams there are left, I'll bury my head in the sand. Tomorrow its a drug exam, and the next day we have a big nursing exam, followed by a pharmacology exam. The weekend for some sleep and then studying for finals next week.
As always...I'll sleep when I'm dead.
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Wrapping Up 2012
Last day of school!
Well...school nursing.
Spent my 2nd day alongside a high school nurse. Of the 2 student populations I've seen, they have their pros and cons:
PROS:
The High School Kid:
The High School Kid:
Well...school nursing.
Spent my 2nd day alongside a high school nurse. Of the 2 student populations I've seen, they have their pros and cons:
PROS:
The High School Kid:
- Can explain what's wrong with them.
- Have cell phones and direct access to their parents.
- Better fashion sense.
- Better listeners.
- Less crying.
- The cuteness factor.
- Terrible at faking. (In the biz, we call it "malingering").
- Catching disability / disease earlier means more years we may be able to positively impact their lives.
The High School Kid:
- Can Google symptoms and recite them back. (See the next bullet).
- Accomplished fakers -- (although I was in a school of the arts...so mine may have been better actors).
- As big or bigger than you. (Depending on where you are, this could be potentially scary).
The Elementary Child:
- Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle. Wiggle. Yeah.
- They don't know what's wrong and often answer yes to any question. (Does your tummy hurt? Yes. Does your head ache? Yes. Do you have a third eye? Yes.)
- Poorer impulse control. One kid grabbed the mouse and started messing with the school health records while my nurse turned to grab something.
They all need you. Of course that's something I like about nursing in general, so its hard for me not to like some aspects of school nursing. However I find myself wondering if I'd be locked into a kind of Groundhog Day after a while: same flu, same bumps and bruises, same problem parents. It will likely be this way wherever I end up. (Perhaps less likely in the ER...I'll have to ask them).
You can't argue that school nursing seems like a pretty cushy job: 180 work days per year on a full time salary. Set hours. No on-call. No weekends. Very nice pay.
Hmmm. Maybe I could get used to kids.
It is also the end of the year!
Looking back to where I was last year I'm pretty amazed at everything. I was still adjusting to a new life in a new city. Still learning my nursing school survival skills. Getting to know everybody. Missing home.
Now I pretty much know what to do to survive this place...although I've learned to take nothing for granted. Beginning to see the weeks and months blurring past and knowing I'll be standing up in a ridiculous white nurse's dress, hat and hose ensemble soon (God willing). I have places I like to go, and people I like to see here, which takes the edge off being far from home. There are so many people I'll miss here once I leave. Overall I am thankful beyond words to be through everything I've endured and to still be holding my own.
2013 will be another year of big changes: graduation, writing my boards, becoming licensed and finding that first job. Settling in wherever I'm planted and plotting my next moves.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Dear Little Kid...
I would have picked you up from school if I was your mom —with the skin on your upper body blistering up so much it looked like you were covered in bubble wrap. I saw your little self in the doorway to the school nurse's office covered in red bumps and wondered what dread disease I might be taking home with me today. I tried to keep you at arm's length as you hopped all around my office claiming it was "fleas."
Maybe it was fleas. Or maybe you are dreadfully allergic to something you ate. Or new laundry soap. How would YOU know? You are only 5.
My skin was crawling and I wanted to scratch some imaginary itches the whole time. And I really, really didn't want you touching me. But I remembered when I was a girl and I decided to suntan in a field of wild grasses by the sea -- and I ran screaming home to my mom covered in what looked like puffy red whip-marks all over me. (I don't sit on the grass anymore.) And my heart went out to you.
I must have told you a hundred times that the scale was not a toy. And please don't touch that. Or that! You hopped around so much it was like you had ants in your pants.
Hey...maybe you DID!
How could I expect you to hold still?
I named you "Itchy McScratchy" and told you I was going to frost you like a cake with hydrocortisone cream. You thought that was silly and giggled when the q-tip got you under the arms. Your poor little arms.
You leaned on me while we called your mom as I tried to enter a million data-points in the computer and simultaneously keep you from pulling all the shelves down. Then you had half yourself on my lap. Then all of you.
When your little brown arms went around my neck I stopped typing and held you--resigning myself to whatever pestilence I might catch.
I don't know if I would ever want to be a school nurse, but I am asking myself: what if I hadn't been there for you today?
I really wish your mom had come picked you up. I almost took you home with me!
Your student nurse.
Maybe it was fleas. Or maybe you are dreadfully allergic to something you ate. Or new laundry soap. How would YOU know? You are only 5.
My skin was crawling and I wanted to scratch some imaginary itches the whole time. And I really, really didn't want you touching me. But I remembered when I was a girl and I decided to suntan in a field of wild grasses by the sea -- and I ran screaming home to my mom covered in what looked like puffy red whip-marks all over me. (I don't sit on the grass anymore.) And my heart went out to you.
I must have told you a hundred times that the scale was not a toy. And please don't touch that. Or that! You hopped around so much it was like you had ants in your pants.
Hey...maybe you DID!
How could I expect you to hold still?
I named you "Itchy McScratchy" and told you I was going to frost you like a cake with hydrocortisone cream. You thought that was silly and giggled when the q-tip got you under the arms. Your poor little arms.
You leaned on me while we called your mom as I tried to enter a million data-points in the computer and simultaneously keep you from pulling all the shelves down. Then you had half yourself on my lap. Then all of you.
When your little brown arms went around my neck I stopped typing and held you--resigning myself to whatever pestilence I might catch.
I don't know if I would ever want to be a school nurse, but I am asking myself: what if I hadn't been there for you today?
I really wish your mom had come picked you up. I almost took you home with me!
Your student nurse.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Bugs and Home Health
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
First Week in the ER
First off...they call it the ED now. I wonder if they will rename the television show...?
Emergency personnel are my heroes. Hands down. Talk about a group of steely-eyed professionals. I was in a the emergency department big city hospital with a Level 1 shock trauma center and it has been such a great leap for me in terms of advancing my clinical skills. It was also terrifying to realize how on top of everything these nurses need to be and the enormous gap I have yet to traverse to get there. If there was ever a profession that epitomizes multi-tasking, it must be ER nursing.
Every student's experience on a given day will be different -- some of us will hop from patient to patient fairly quickly and see a good number of them during our shift. My first day, I really only saw 2 but that was because I was in the two rooms right next to the trauma bays and we had a couple of patients that needed a lot of care, and took a lot of time.
Codes don't happen in real life like they happen on TV or in the movies. Heck...probably because of this, I didn't even realize I was in one, until my instructor asked me about it later! All I knew, was we had about 15 people in our room for about an hour. Then somehow things turned and poof! -- it was back to just me and my nurse and our very sick patient. During the Code, people were hopping, but somehow it seemed like controlled chaos, this team knew all the dance steps and stayed out of each other's way as they all performed their own tasks. The doctor was so relaxed and no one was shouting, just quietly going about their business. Amazing.
Since I could do hardly anything but just stay out of their way, I had time to notice random things. Since my nurse and I had personally inspected the room and gone through every drawer with an inventory checklist -- I knew we were ready. And I could see why he took this step VERY seriously. As the Code ran it's course...the floor just got filled with debris. All the packaging for every supply was on the ground and they ran through supplies in a shockingly fast clip. I began to think about how, not having one critical item and that crucial moment could just make it or break it for my guy on the table, fighting for his life.
Then there was a whole nurse just standing off to one side documenting everything that happened, every drug given, dose and time. Every order. Procedure. She was like the court reporter. And...its because of today's law-suit happy society that we have her.
All of the "right ways" we learned to do things in class...many fall by the way-side when there is no luxury of time. And that's not a criticism.
Then I saw symptoms occurring in my patient that I wondered if I would ever see. It's called "Decorticate Posturing" and it's sad that I got to see this in real life, because it's never a good sign when the arms go really stiff and flex outward. But I saw it.
I also noticed veteran nurses who have done it a million times struggle with things that I would struggle with now, and that kind of comforted me. After a patient is given an artificial airway, they often need to get a tube down to decompress the stomach. Getting that tube down can be tricky. Even for the pros.
So we got through the Code and after a few hours, our patient was transferred up to the floor and we turned our attention to the next patient. She was thrashing around and confused, so when it came time to give her an IV, I had to wrestle to keep her arm still so my nurse could get a line. After a few failed attempts she had so much blood running down her arm and onto her hand that it looked much worse than it had to be. But she managed to work her arm free at one point and grab my white sleeve with her bloody hand and I looked like I had been finger-painted. It reminded me of old episodes of MASH and how Hawkeye was always awash in gore.
For this lady I got to apply restraints. Something I haven't really had to do before. She was a really sweet little old lady who just needed a little help to keep her safe.
The next day was more excitement and I saw many more patients and got to do more things. Sunk my first IV, a nice big 16 gauge needle, which was awesome. There's this thrill when you see the flash of blood return in the catheter and know you got it I just can't really describe. I'm sure they would discourage cheering, but that's what I wanted to do.
One patient stands out and will likely change how I worry about people who live alone. She had gone down in her home for a week before she was found. She was in a very bad state by the time we got her, and she smelled wretched from having laid in her own filth for that long. Soooooo sad! My eyes would water any time I approached her room. The other nursing students hadn't gone in, but I finally wanted to help and went in and offered. It was just so great to take care of her and make her comfortable. I figured if the whole floor could smell her, surely she could too! We made it better and that's when the nurse I was helping looked up at me, laying across her and holding her arm in position for him to try and get a vein, and said, "Now there's a REAL nurse!" Meaning me! I asked him why he said that and he replied, "You see any other people in here offering to help? We're not that busy..." I floated on that compliment the rest of the day.
I do want to be a REAL nurse.
:)
Emergency personnel are my heroes. Hands down. Talk about a group of steely-eyed professionals. I was in a the emergency department big city hospital with a Level 1 shock trauma center and it has been such a great leap for me in terms of advancing my clinical skills. It was also terrifying to realize how on top of everything these nurses need to be and the enormous gap I have yet to traverse to get there. If there was ever a profession that epitomizes multi-tasking, it must be ER nursing.
Every student's experience on a given day will be different -- some of us will hop from patient to patient fairly quickly and see a good number of them during our shift. My first day, I really only saw 2 but that was because I was in the two rooms right next to the trauma bays and we had a couple of patients that needed a lot of care, and took a lot of time.
Codes don't happen in real life like they happen on TV or in the movies. Heck...probably because of this, I didn't even realize I was in one, until my instructor asked me about it later! All I knew, was we had about 15 people in our room for about an hour. Then somehow things turned and poof! -- it was back to just me and my nurse and our very sick patient. During the Code, people were hopping, but somehow it seemed like controlled chaos, this team knew all the dance steps and stayed out of each other's way as they all performed their own tasks. The doctor was so relaxed and no one was shouting, just quietly going about their business. Amazing.
Since I could do hardly anything but just stay out of their way, I had time to notice random things. Since my nurse and I had personally inspected the room and gone through every drawer with an inventory checklist -- I knew we were ready. And I could see why he took this step VERY seriously. As the Code ran it's course...the floor just got filled with debris. All the packaging for every supply was on the ground and they ran through supplies in a shockingly fast clip. I began to think about how, not having one critical item and that crucial moment could just make it or break it for my guy on the table, fighting for his life.
Then there was a whole nurse just standing off to one side documenting everything that happened, every drug given, dose and time. Every order. Procedure. She was like the court reporter. And...its because of today's law-suit happy society that we have her.
All of the "right ways" we learned to do things in class...many fall by the way-side when there is no luxury of time. And that's not a criticism.
Then I saw symptoms occurring in my patient that I wondered if I would ever see. It's called "Decorticate Posturing" and it's sad that I got to see this in real life, because it's never a good sign when the arms go really stiff and flex outward. But I saw it.
I also noticed veteran nurses who have done it a million times struggle with things that I would struggle with now, and that kind of comforted me. After a patient is given an artificial airway, they often need to get a tube down to decompress the stomach. Getting that tube down can be tricky. Even for the pros.
So we got through the Code and after a few hours, our patient was transferred up to the floor and we turned our attention to the next patient. She was thrashing around and confused, so when it came time to give her an IV, I had to wrestle to keep her arm still so my nurse could get a line. After a few failed attempts she had so much blood running down her arm and onto her hand that it looked much worse than it had to be. But she managed to work her arm free at one point and grab my white sleeve with her bloody hand and I looked like I had been finger-painted. It reminded me of old episodes of MASH and how Hawkeye was always awash in gore.
For this lady I got to apply restraints. Something I haven't really had to do before. She was a really sweet little old lady who just needed a little help to keep her safe.
The next day was more excitement and I saw many more patients and got to do more things. Sunk my first IV, a nice big 16 gauge needle, which was awesome. There's this thrill when you see the flash of blood return in the catheter and know you got it I just can't really describe. I'm sure they would discourage cheering, but that's what I wanted to do.
One patient stands out and will likely change how I worry about people who live alone. She had gone down in her home for a week before she was found. She was in a very bad state by the time we got her, and she smelled wretched from having laid in her own filth for that long. Soooooo sad! My eyes would water any time I approached her room. The other nursing students hadn't gone in, but I finally wanted to help and went in and offered. It was just so great to take care of her and make her comfortable. I figured if the whole floor could smell her, surely she could too! We made it better and that's when the nurse I was helping looked up at me, laying across her and holding her arm in position for him to try and get a vein, and said, "Now there's a REAL nurse!" Meaning me! I asked him why he said that and he replied, "You see any other people in here offering to help? We're not that busy..." I floated on that compliment the rest of the day.
I do want to be a REAL nurse.
:)
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