the christmas scrooge in me woke up this morning and said,
"bah humbug..."
it's currently 5:38 PM on christmas day. i've been awake for 12 hours, almost 11 hours of which have been spent at work. sometimes being a nurse is not so fun. it means holidays spent in the hospital taking care of sick patients. it also means missing out on family traditions, the exchange of gifts, and the afternoon lull/nap once the festivities are over.
the little santa elf in me is singing a little jig of
"ho, ho, ho and a merry, merry, merry christmas..."
working on christmas can also be fun - depends on your attitude. it can mean spending time with friends/colleagues, potlucks, and christmas cookies galore. it means brightening sick people's holiday with loving care and christmas cheer. the time and half is a nice addition to my paycheck (i must admit). oh, and having my mom and auntie joanie deliver personalized starbucks drinks to the entire unit this afternoon is an extra special perk of working on the holiday - caffeine makes everything better! my patients and their families show extra appreciation too; i even got a treat of almond roca from one patient spouse to thank me for my presence.
i just feel merry because i am healthy and happy, my family is home, ready and waiting to greet me. it's the people that make christmas special - whether i am at home or at work. merry christmas to all!
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Friday, December 24, 2010
"my" favorite patient
in my last post, i mentioned one of "my" very favorite patients - my dad. like i said, he's not really a patient of mine. i mean, i do boss him around. i tell him when and how to take his meds. i lecture him on his diet and salt intake. but thankfully, he's not really a patient of mine. his doctor is a brilliant cardiologist we met almost 12 years ago when my dad's heart started to fail him. and his nurse is named kelly; she puts up with my dad and his harem of women who worry about him (meaning me, my mom, and my sister).
anyway...
december 23rd started just like any other day on my unit. i was assigned three patients; the day would be busy. but my dad had a doctor's appointment at 11:00 and i was determined to attend. so, i begged a friend of mine to watch my patients while i escaped from the unit. and boy am i glad i did.
turns out, my dad's heart was acting up! more so than usual. instead of beating regularly, it was beating irregularly - in a rhythm called atrial flutter. the heart is supposed to act like a well oiled machine; it has a certain way of behaving that is the most efficient and the most effective. and let's just say, atrial flutter is neither. when kelly heard the irregularity, she immediately called for confirmation. within minutes, we had an EKG to verify the rhythm and both my dad's cardiologist and electrophysiologist convened to determine a plan of action. my dad would soon be admitted. he needed a trans-esophageal echocardiogram and a cardioversion. translation - they needed to put a tube down my dad's esophagus to look through the back side of the heart for blood clots. if indeed, there were no clots (potentially formed by the lazy and quivering atria), then they could use paddles (ie. a defibrillator) to shock his heart back into normal rhythm.
ugh. sometimes being a nurse is irritating. i know too much. i knew to worry. i know that shocking someone can be potentially dangerous. it certainly sounds terrifying. and it's much scarrier when it's someone you know and love - when it's your dad.
by 12:15, i ran back up to my unit and quit. not forever. just for the day. and instead of being a nurse to my three patients, i became a nurse to my dad! once again, not really. other nurses took care of him. but i waited all day with him in the hospital. i called the troops (my mom and sister). and when needed, i explained and re-explained the procedure to any and all worriers.
thankfully, my patient behaved. and so did his heart. there were no blood clots. and the electric shock converted my dad's heart rate from his naughty rhythm to the proper one.
but i think i prefer being a nurse to strangers.
anyway...
december 23rd started just like any other day on my unit. i was assigned three patients; the day would be busy. but my dad had a doctor's appointment at 11:00 and i was determined to attend. so, i begged a friend of mine to watch my patients while i escaped from the unit. and boy am i glad i did.
turns out, my dad's heart was acting up! more so than usual. instead of beating regularly, it was beating irregularly - in a rhythm called atrial flutter. the heart is supposed to act like a well oiled machine; it has a certain way of behaving that is the most efficient and the most effective. and let's just say, atrial flutter is neither. when kelly heard the irregularity, she immediately called for confirmation. within minutes, we had an EKG to verify the rhythm and both my dad's cardiologist and electrophysiologist convened to determine a plan of action. my dad would soon be admitted. he needed a trans-esophageal echocardiogram and a cardioversion. translation - they needed to put a tube down my dad's esophagus to look through the back side of the heart for blood clots. if indeed, there were no clots (potentially formed by the lazy and quivering atria), then they could use paddles (ie. a defibrillator) to shock his heart back into normal rhythm.
ugh. sometimes being a nurse is irritating. i know too much. i knew to worry. i know that shocking someone can be potentially dangerous. it certainly sounds terrifying. and it's much scarrier when it's someone you know and love - when it's your dad.
by 12:15, i ran back up to my unit and quit. not forever. just for the day. and instead of being a nurse to my three patients, i became a nurse to my dad! once again, not really. other nurses took care of him. but i waited all day with him in the hospital. i called the troops (my mom and sister). and when needed, i explained and re-explained the procedure to any and all worriers.
thankfully, my patient behaved. and so did his heart. there were no blood clots. and the electric shock converted my dad's heart rate from his naughty rhythm to the proper one.
but i think i prefer being a nurse to strangers.
Friday, December 17, 2010
take care of me. please.
sometimes, as a nurse, i get sick of taking care of people. i don't just care for people at work, i care for people in all aspects of my life. caring is in my genes. it just happens - almost naturally, compulsively, intuitively (even when i try to care less or stop caring at all). but then, every now and then, when i've cared too much, i crack; and then, i need someone to take care of me. please.
these last three days at work have been hard. to be brief.
on wednesday, i cared for a 46 year old nigerian man. throughout my 12 hour shift, he lost his ability to speak in english. he lost his mobility and could no longer transfer from his chair to the bed. he had unmanaged pain. and was nearing death.
today (friday), i wrapped his body in plastic and zipped him up in a body bag. his three brothers watched us perform our last "caring" techniques (which feels more like lack of caring - plastic? body bags? ugh - inhumane). the brothers (and i) cried.
my other two patients are 24 and 34 years old. the 24 year old is pre-transplant. he is hopeful and anxious. he's getting sicker before we make him better. the 34 year old has had two transplants; the first one his body did not accept and sadly, he's relapsed after the second. his leg is gangrenous and he needs a walker. he has two kids and a wife at home.
my other patient is not my patient at all. he's family; he's my dad. my dad has congestive heart failure and is seen in the out-patient cardiology clinic in my hospital. the days he has appointments while i am at work, i usually con my charge nurse to allow me to leave the floor to escort my dad. he's lived in the US for more than 30 years (from switzerland originally), but he still needs an interpreter. not literally. but he does need an advocate and someone to force him to report accurately. so, we went together today to see why he's been more fatigued and why he is retaining fluid despite the diuretics. bottom line. it's hard to care for a parent. to watch them age and get sicker.
anyway, sometimes i care too much. if you catch my drift. i worry about my "patients." i feel sad when they have aches and pains. i want for them to get better instead of sicker. i want my caring to be curing. and it's often not.
when this realization comes, that i cannot care for everyone and that i certainly cannot cure anyone, i get overwhelmed. sometimes i cry. sometimes i eat chocolate. today, i just need someone to take care of me for a change. please.
these last three days at work have been hard. to be brief.
on wednesday, i cared for a 46 year old nigerian man. throughout my 12 hour shift, he lost his ability to speak in english. he lost his mobility and could no longer transfer from his chair to the bed. he had unmanaged pain. and was nearing death.
today (friday), i wrapped his body in plastic and zipped him up in a body bag. his three brothers watched us perform our last "caring" techniques (which feels more like lack of caring - plastic? body bags? ugh - inhumane). the brothers (and i) cried.
my other two patients are 24 and 34 years old. the 24 year old is pre-transplant. he is hopeful and anxious. he's getting sicker before we make him better. the 34 year old has had two transplants; the first one his body did not accept and sadly, he's relapsed after the second. his leg is gangrenous and he needs a walker. he has two kids and a wife at home.
my other patient is not my patient at all. he's family; he's my dad. my dad has congestive heart failure and is seen in the out-patient cardiology clinic in my hospital. the days he has appointments while i am at work, i usually con my charge nurse to allow me to leave the floor to escort my dad. he's lived in the US for more than 30 years (from switzerland originally), but he still needs an interpreter. not literally. but he does need an advocate and someone to force him to report accurately. so, we went together today to see why he's been more fatigued and why he is retaining fluid despite the diuretics. bottom line. it's hard to care for a parent. to watch them age and get sicker.
anyway, sometimes i care too much. if you catch my drift. i worry about my "patients." i feel sad when they have aches and pains. i want for them to get better instead of sicker. i want my caring to be curing. and it's often not.
when this realization comes, that i cannot care for everyone and that i certainly cannot cure anyone, i get overwhelmed. sometimes i cry. sometimes i eat chocolate. today, i just need someone to take care of me for a change. please.
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