Ah yes, 5th week of "schedule A's" quarter, and I'm deep in Med-Surg nursing. Still on the transplant floor. Still doin' my thing.
Last weekend I rode on a float in the LOVEfest parade down Market St in SF. If I could find a photo of me on the Spundae/Skills float, I would, but alas, I was in my EMT pants and a T-shirt, although I had my hidden orange fur and sparkley pants in my bag. I was supposed to volunteer from 11am until 4:30, and ended up staying until 6pm. We had so many calls- lots of overly intoxicated people on various substances, and I was running around with oxygen on my back trying to help them. Doing the quick assessments was actually kind of fun, because it brought back my EMT skills and I was surprised at how comfortable I felt in that environment. A lot of people thanked us. Afterwards, I found some friends and danced until about 7, went home, and drank a margarita. Sweet.
Sunday I went to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass since it was only a mile or so from the house, and had a fantastic time just chillin' with close friends. Listening to Iron and Wine play was magical, as was dancing with the girls to Greg Brown. Awesome day.
Today was a tough one at the hospital. Last week, I took care of a patient who was hoping for a good diagnosis. He didn't get one. He has an inoperable state, and at this point, he has been referred to Hospice care. He'll be here for a few more days, and I'm going to try to be with him tomorrow. His wife is phenomenal, and I cried with her for about 20 minutes this afternoon. There's not much time to give, but what I have, I will.
I can't go more in depth, but that still makes me tear up. Knowing that your parter is going to pass, knowing that you are going to pass- given "time" to do what you need to do... Is it a blessing? He has the opportunity to say what he needs/wants to the people he loves, yet it's limited.
His wife looked at me and asked, "Why is it that we only find out who truly loves us when we're sick or dying? Life is so short- time goes by so fast and we keep promising each other that we'll get together, and it takes something like *this* to make it happen. Why?" She paused, looked at me, and said, "Enjoy every moment you can. If you learn nothing else as a student, enjoy every moment you can."
That's when I started crying.
I hugged her.
In the middle of the hug, my stupid cell phone started vibrating, and we both laughed and laughed. Perfectly ludicrous.
They've been married for 40 years. I've been with my boyfriend for 2.
My heart aches for them.
And then there is that question: how *do* you go back into the hall and help your patients after that? How? My heart was heavy, but I got elbow-deep into poop (literally- and discovered a pressure ulcer and worked to prevent skin breakdown) and tended to the needs of someone else who is, very literally, dying.
Inoperable.
Bad word on our floor, but seemed to be the word of the day.
Sigh.
All we can do is love openly, celebrate the time we have, and be here for each other.
Those words from my NP friend echo through my head: "There's not a day that goes by where I don't hug a patient or am there for a patient. I give good news and bad news. When I've lost my ability to emote, then it's time to move on from this."
I'm just getting into it, and it's heartbreaking and beautiful all at the same time.
This weekend I'm at a wedding. A beginning. I think I need it.
One woman leaves her favorite river career in the Sierras to embark upon another favorite: fixing broken people.
Showing posts with label Med-Surg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Med-Surg. Show all posts
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Firsts, Escapes, and Anniversaries.
First of all, if any of you readers are applying to MEPN right now, congratulations on finishing. Tonight at midnight is the deadline, and I remember all to well scrambling to get it all in.
In fact, the GRE made sure that I was late by a week, but somehow it all worked out. Have faith that yes, indeed, it will work out for you.
Non-MEPN stuff: I went to my first same-sex wedding in the beautiful Genessee Valley area of California. My friends Julie and Abigail tied the knot in the best ceremony I've ever been to, out in the middle of nowhere on their property past the North Fork Feather river.
Almost all of my river friends were attending, and I had a weekend of margaritas, sleeping bags and dust boogers that made my fall happy. This weekend, I'm volunteering in the med tent at the LOVEfest, hosting a few women at my house who are going to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, and just unwinding. The Gourds are playing, and they play the best version of Gin and Juice (which, incidentally, Will plays on his banjo). So will Emmylou, Iron and Wine, and Poor Man's Whiskey. Sweet.
I miss Will. He's in Houston, doing hurricane relief, still. Probably there until December.
MEPN stuff:
Last week we had rapid response on our floor 4 times, once for someone with 10/10 chest pain and shortness of breath with a low O2 sat- ended up that patient didn't have an MI (heart attack- or "myocardial infarction," an "infarct" being an area of dead tissue due to lack of oxygen). And then another patient had Atrial Fibrulation alternating with Sinus Tachycardia. It was a chance for me to be the EMT on the floor; when the docs said, "get oxygen tubing" I already had it and the christmas tree (the attachment that allows us to connect tubing to oxygen). I also ended up printing out the ECGs for them. Yay! That was exciting.
Also firsts, some not so good: first long-term patient death. Sigh. Remember, yes, my info is changed due to HIPAA, so I don't always get to tell you everything that's happened. I will say this, the patient's room always smelled wonderful, due to aromatherapy, and I loved being in that room, regardless of how good or bad the day was for him. I took care of this patient about 3 days. He was waiting for a miracle, was young, needed more than one organ. He died waiting in the ICU from a massive internal bleed. His platelets were always low, and the clotting factors were always at critical values. And there were reasons for that, but it doesn't make it any less sad.
I haven't cried yet. I need to share this info with another MEPN who cared for him even more intensively than I did. The info I'm giving you, public, is different than what really happened, but it affects me nonetheless. I spent last Friday thinking about this person and remembering interacting with his family.
My heart felt heavy.
It's different, you know, when it's someone you've met briefly, than when it's someone you've helped out with on a day-to-day basis. Someone you've advocated for, watched the doctors go in and talk to, watched the discussion by the teams as to whether they're going to get what they need or not.
I started my first IV, a 20G on someone who's a "hard stick" and I nailed it. Proud? No: Glowing. I hate needles, and I faint when people come near me with them, so I'm uber aware of how I treat people with them, and I'm all about being a phlebotomy pro. I always used to get the hard sticks at Planned Parenthood, and now I feel like I did well with someone in the acute care setting, and I'm willing to go further.
A MEPN saved someone's life last week. She noticed a fever, and essentially caught early sepsis on someone. It wasn't someone who had had a ton of patient care experience; she was just very observant and very dedicated. And she's smart.
One small light, a small flickering flame that glows just enough for one person to see can change the world.
I hope that if I ever get sick I'm lucky enough to have this person as my nurse. She's awesome.
It's that time of year when we're getting sick, sore throats, tired - even though our schedule has eased up. Our first test is tomorrow.
MEPN is tough. Many of us have gained weight, lost partners, lost sleep.
There's a lot I'm editing, but more will come to light later, when I'm done with this program.
For now, it's all about the basics, the day to day stuff, the hopeful living and breathing and learning that we all do together.
For you applicants, think about nursing, and imagine yourself with someone at they're most vulnerable moments. Yeah, you'll hear a lot of jokes about "wiping ass," - which incidentally I do a lot- but think about being with someone when they're vulnerable and need that help. What an honor it is.
If you can't see it as an honor to be with someone when they're so sick they can barely take care of themselves, then this pathway is not for you.
If you feel that you have enough love for the entire world, with a little left over for yourself at the end of the day, then by all means, walk through the fire and do it, because it's worth it.
What a fucking honor. Every day.
The light in me honors the light in you. Namaste.
Whatever your reason is, let is shine forth in your essay, and best of luck.
In fact, the GRE made sure that I was late by a week, but somehow it all worked out. Have faith that yes, indeed, it will work out for you.
Non-MEPN stuff: I went to my first same-sex wedding in the beautiful Genessee Valley area of California. My friends Julie and Abigail tied the knot in the best ceremony I've ever been to, out in the middle of nowhere on their property past the North Fork Feather river.
Almost all of my river friends were attending, and I had a weekend of margaritas, sleeping bags and dust boogers that made my fall happy. This weekend, I'm volunteering in the med tent at the LOVEfest, hosting a few women at my house who are going to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, and just unwinding. The Gourds are playing, and they play the best version of Gin and Juice (which, incidentally, Will plays on his banjo). So will Emmylou, Iron and Wine, and Poor Man's Whiskey. Sweet.
I miss Will. He's in Houston, doing hurricane relief, still. Probably there until December.
MEPN stuff:
Last week we had rapid response on our floor 4 times, once for someone with 10/10 chest pain and shortness of breath with a low O2 sat- ended up that patient didn't have an MI (heart attack- or "myocardial infarction," an "infarct" being an area of dead tissue due to lack of oxygen). And then another patient had Atrial Fibrulation alternating with Sinus Tachycardia. It was a chance for me to be the EMT on the floor; when the docs said, "get oxygen tubing" I already had it and the christmas tree (the attachment that allows us to connect tubing to oxygen). I also ended up printing out the ECGs for them. Yay! That was exciting.
Also firsts, some not so good: first long-term patient death. Sigh. Remember, yes, my info is changed due to HIPAA, so I don't always get to tell you everything that's happened. I will say this, the patient's room always smelled wonderful, due to aromatherapy, and I loved being in that room, regardless of how good or bad the day was for him. I took care of this patient about 3 days. He was waiting for a miracle, was young, needed more than one organ. He died waiting in the ICU from a massive internal bleed. His platelets were always low, and the clotting factors were always at critical values. And there were reasons for that, but it doesn't make it any less sad.
I haven't cried yet. I need to share this info with another MEPN who cared for him even more intensively than I did. The info I'm giving you, public, is different than what really happened, but it affects me nonetheless. I spent last Friday thinking about this person and remembering interacting with his family.
My heart felt heavy.
It's different, you know, when it's someone you've met briefly, than when it's someone you've helped out with on a day-to-day basis. Someone you've advocated for, watched the doctors go in and talk to, watched the discussion by the teams as to whether they're going to get what they need or not.
I started my first IV, a 20G on someone who's a "hard stick" and I nailed it. Proud? No: Glowing. I hate needles, and I faint when people come near me with them, so I'm uber aware of how I treat people with them, and I'm all about being a phlebotomy pro. I always used to get the hard sticks at Planned Parenthood, and now I feel like I did well with someone in the acute care setting, and I'm willing to go further.
A MEPN saved someone's life last week. She noticed a fever, and essentially caught early sepsis on someone. It wasn't someone who had had a ton of patient care experience; she was just very observant and very dedicated. And she's smart.
One small light, a small flickering flame that glows just enough for one person to see can change the world.
I hope that if I ever get sick I'm lucky enough to have this person as my nurse. She's awesome.
It's that time of year when we're getting sick, sore throats, tired - even though our schedule has eased up. Our first test is tomorrow.
MEPN is tough. Many of us have gained weight, lost partners, lost sleep.
There's a lot I'm editing, but more will come to light later, when I'm done with this program.
For now, it's all about the basics, the day to day stuff, the hopeful living and breathing and learning that we all do together.
For you applicants, think about nursing, and imagine yourself with someone at they're most vulnerable moments. Yeah, you'll hear a lot of jokes about "wiping ass," - which incidentally I do a lot- but think about being with someone when they're vulnerable and need that help. What an honor it is.
If you can't see it as an honor to be with someone when they're so sick they can barely take care of themselves, then this pathway is not for you.
If you feel that you have enough love for the entire world, with a little left over for yourself at the end of the day, then by all means, walk through the fire and do it, because it's worth it.
What a fucking honor. Every day.
The light in me honors the light in you. Namaste.
Whatever your reason is, let is shine forth in your essay, and best of luck.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Today. In pictures.
How I felt by 10am today, even though I learned a lot, dealt with the ENTIRE rainbow of human fluids (except a male specific one, thank goodness), and tried to get a patient ready for transport:
What my 5pm-6pm hour was like:
Except it really looked more like this:
How I felt after a 12 hour shift:
How everyone else felt all day:
What is fixing my sanity now:
And:
What I'm about to watch:
And how I feel altogether at this moment:
Except I've got a glass of wine in my hand, thankfully.
It really was the craziest, most stressful, ridiculous day I've had on my floor. I have a glass of wine and Licorice scotty dogs from Trader Joe's to make me warm and fuzzy. Oh yeah, and that thing I call my bed... yes!
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