best compliment ever

i'm at work taking care of the patient who stole the motorized wheelchair. he continues to make me smile and enlighten me with deep thoughts (of course, in his hoarse, barking voice). just now, he grabbed my hand and said, "christa, thank you for being a kick-ass nurse!"

the mysterious motorized wheelchair

last week, i wrote about a patient with the "missing" voice. this week, C continues to amuse me. his voice has returned, somewhat. now instead of a whisper, he has a mean bark - especially when calling food service to swear about his meals being delivered cold and with the wrong condiments.

his most recent and best antic so far has to do with a mysterious motorized wheelchair. on sunday, C was zipping down the halls, rocking out to heavy metal. we teased him about fining him for speeding. but eventually, all of us nurses wondered where this fancy wheelchair came from. when the physical therapist showed up, we asked her if physical therapy indeed gave him the chair. when she said NO, there was sleuthing to be done.

turns out, just asking C point blank got us the answer. C stole the wheelchair from the complete other end of the hospital, near the rehabilitation unit (our hospital is HUGE - he travelled a long way to get this prized possessions). he had seen the chair in the halls near rehab the previous day when PT brought him there to workout. he even asked if he could use the motorized wheelchair - but PT said NO. the patient has muscular dystrophy; he can walk - albeit slowly and with a strange gait. but apparently, he wanted to zip around. so in the middle of the night on saturday, he wheeled himself in a regular wheelchair to rehab to confiscate the cadillac of wheelchairs - the motorized wheels!

PT forced C to hand over the chair. poor C with his little bark seemed deflated. but the heavy metal continues. C adds a little spice to our oncology unit. and i enjoy his spirit!

august update

i've been slacking off on my blog lately. i wonder why that is? sometimes i think it's because work is not challenging me. or perhaps, work continues to challenge me in the same ways as always, but life outside of work challenges me more. then, i simply don't have the time or motivation to write about nursing. anywhoo...

my week of camp nursing was great! this was my fifth year of being a camp nurse at a camp for developmentally disabled adults and my 16th year of volunteering. it all started when i was a wee 15 year old; i convinced my sweet friend, amelia, to attend camp with me and my special aunt joanie (joanie is developmentally disabled and looks forward to camp ALL YEAR LONG!). we had the time of our lives. but we were challenged beyond our wildest imaginings. the two of us sweet, little innocent gals ended being responsible for one 21 year old boy. he had down's syndrome and was non-verbal. he required both of our attention for the entire week, and still, we couldn't get him to sleep. and sadly neither of us were sure he had "fun" or benefitted from the experience. but we tried our damndest. the two of us, on the other hand, had monumental, life-changing experiences. despite the sleep deprivation and the changing of adult male diapers, we were hooked. amelia now lives in LA and has a wee-one of her own to care for.

but this year, i had the special privilege of bringing a new friend to camp. marian, a colleague and dear friend of mine from work, braved the world of camp nursing with me. she and i, with the part-time help of two other very experienced nurses, were in charge of doling out hundreds of pills each day - breakfast, lunch, dinner, and bedtime pills. and it was fun to watch her ease into the world of differing abilities and specialness. each day, each med pass, became easier. campers warmed to her bright spirit. and the week was better for me having her there...

"real" nursing returned on monday morning after an emotion-filled and wacky weekend with the beginnings of a cold. blah! and sadly, the sweet 25 year old guy i had taken care of the week prior, the one whose father didn't want me to be off for so many days, had been intubated and placed into one of our intensive care beds. double blah! i knew he was sick; i worried he would not fair well. and although i LOVE being right most of the time, i do not love being right about sad outcomes on my unit.

monday and tuesday i cared for a very unusual patient. somehow, he "lost" his voice. he has cancer. and he's been intubated recently. but every test we did, shoving cameras down his throat, assessing his vocal cords, checking his swallow and gag reflexes, showed nothing abnormal. my patient has an extensive history of drug use and certainly seems to have some mental illness, but this voice business, his quiet whisper slash bark seemed comical to me. he wrote me notes all day and attempted sign language. i made business phone calls for him to strangers in alaska. and we laughed together trying to figure each other out. all in all, it was a fun two days.

but my cold worsened. my nose started to drip while in patients' rooms. i had to sniffle and wipe my face on my sleeve like a four year old child. and i realized, if i truly care for my patients, if i really want to be a good nurse, i must care for myself first. i had to call in sick on wednesday so as not to pass on my cold that for me is benign but for my patients could be deadly. it was a good day off. a nice day to rest, relax, and re-cooperate from camp, life, and work!

long week done, long week ahead

in the last week, i have worked five 12 hour shifts. that's more than 60 hours. and although they weren't that challenging of days, it still feels like too much.

i do a very poor job of leaving my home life and dilemmas at home, so often times, i use work as a processing plant. i work with supportive friends and colleagues. and it just so happens that sometimes, work is my therapy. our 60 year old male secretary doesn't hesitate to give me boy advice. and my girlfriends and i spent the last several days hiding in the hallways, avoiding patient rooms and actual nursing work, to whisper about naughty things and funny experiences. dare i say that work (or therapy - whatever you choose to call it) this week was almost fun! and it's cheaper than my real sessions; in fact, i actually get paid to work on myself and spend time with friends!

i did do some real nursing this week. in fact, for the last two days, i cared for a young gentleman who is VERY sick. he is 25 years old. of course, he has cancer. and he is surrounded by loved ones - a super attentive girlfriend, two loving parents, and aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces. unfortunately, he's only at the very beginning of transplant and is already suffering pretty intensely. i only mention this guy because i actually enjoyed caring for him. is that bad? i don't always enjoy caring for my patients. this guy though, he's motivated. he listens well. he wants to work hard to get better, despite feeling like you-know-what. and at the end of the day, he asked if i would be caring for him every time that i worked. sometimes, when people say that, for a split second, i fear they are going to say, "because i don't want you to be my nurse again, not tomorrow when you're back, not ever." but this little guy (i say "little" because 25 year old men are so vulnerable and needy), he said, "you do a really good job!" and his dad chimed in and said, "i don't think you should be allowed to have the next 9 days off. we like you too much!"

that is a nice way to end a 60 hour work week.

tomorrow begins another tough week - a 120 hour work week. i head to camp parkview on vashon island. once again, for the 5th year in a row, i will be one of the camp nurses at a camp for 60 developmentally disabled adults. it's actually my 16 year (i did miss a year or two during college summers and travels) volunteering. and as fun as camp is, it is work. with it's own challenges and drama...

here's to camp nursing!