my lovely friend and new mama, marian, took 8 months off for maternity leave. she deserved every minute. but i'd be lying if i didn't admit, i totally missed her. thankfully, we made efforts to see each other on days off. i couldn't help but crave visits with her completely adorable daughter. and we started to run together to train for a 10k race that we completed in august. and i do believe, we're actually better friends than in january when she left for her two days of bedrest and then the more than 7 week early arrival of ada.
but, she's back!
i've been lucky enough to work with her several days already since her return (and mine from vacation). and it makes work such a different place. to carpool to work with a friend (because we now live so close). to work alongside a fantastic nurse who offers help when needed (and when not needed). to sit down during breaks (of the opportunity arrives) and share super personal stories, dreams, and hopes while hiding from patients, colleagues, and managers.
this week, we worked together on sunday and monday. yesterday, i spent the majority of the morning with her and her little sidekick - enjoying coffee, running, and going to costco. and today, i'm ALONE (more on that in some other blog post - but cole is in yakima for the next month). so i miss her (and him). but we're back at it tomorrow - work on thursday or friday. and although i'd much prefer more time off, it sure feels nice knowing that i'm working with my friend.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Friday, September 13, 2013
hemorrhoids
it's always hard to come back from vacation. going from breakfasts of croissants and brisk hikes in mountain air to rushed microwaved soy patties and the stale hospital air that my job provides is - well, to say the least - rough. but it's especially hard when you're thrown in (because the higher ups trust you and give you hard assignments). on tuesday, i had three patients - two of whom were off service and discharged at the very exact same moment. wednesday i was doused in trach juices by a very lovely woman my dad's age; she has tongue cancer and required the placement of a tracheostomy to breathe. and to be honest, i have NO idea when it comes to trach care. that afternoon, i was asked to do conscious sedation for a patient other than my own - a transplant patient who has been doing more than $100.00 a day of marijauna. needless to say, the bronchoscopy was very chill - he didn't squirm, he didn't care, and thankfully, he kept breathing. but yesterday, yesterday was the hardest.
i cared for a gal just three months younger than myself. she and her husband have been married for 9 years. they have two children. and they are from WAY out of state. and the reason she showed up in seattle is because we were the only cancer center willing to offer her a shot. she's sick. refractory to chemo (meaning she cannot get into remission, even for a bit). and to top off this glorious deal, she has a super scary hemorrhoid! you couldn't imagine how much trouble a hemorrhoid can cause. she can't sit. she can't go to the bathroom. she can't sleep. she's miserable. and yet, she has the best attitude.
i told her that i dislike caring for patients my age. it just doesn't seem fair. and she said, "He has a plan." i'm not much of a believer, but i said, "it better be a good one." i want this woman to survive; she is kind (and the good ones always seem to die). and she said, "somehow, it always is - whatever it is." ahhhh... to be at such peace. what a brave lady!
in the afternoon, her equally as kind husband asked if i would teach him how to care for his wife's "wound." and so, i raised the bed to his height. making sure he wasn't too squeamish. and he kindly and carefully watched my hands do what his would be doing in the future. i told him he was brave, that nursing isn't for everyone. and he said, "i made a commitment - and i know she would do it for me." it sounds simple. i quick re-living of vows. an acknowledgement of love and kindness. in sickness and in health.
but it was so special to witness. so touching. i left. and i think they cried. and typing this, i want to too.
i cared for a gal just three months younger than myself. she and her husband have been married for 9 years. they have two children. and they are from WAY out of state. and the reason she showed up in seattle is because we were the only cancer center willing to offer her a shot. she's sick. refractory to chemo (meaning she cannot get into remission, even for a bit). and to top off this glorious deal, she has a super scary hemorrhoid! you couldn't imagine how much trouble a hemorrhoid can cause. she can't sit. she can't go to the bathroom. she can't sleep. she's miserable. and yet, she has the best attitude.
i told her that i dislike caring for patients my age. it just doesn't seem fair. and she said, "He has a plan." i'm not much of a believer, but i said, "it better be a good one." i want this woman to survive; she is kind (and the good ones always seem to die). and she said, "somehow, it always is - whatever it is." ahhhh... to be at such peace. what a brave lady!
in the afternoon, her equally as kind husband asked if i would teach him how to care for his wife's "wound." and so, i raised the bed to his height. making sure he wasn't too squeamish. and he kindly and carefully watched my hands do what his would be doing in the future. i told him he was brave, that nursing isn't for everyone. and he said, "i made a commitment - and i know she would do it for me." it sounds simple. i quick re-living of vows. an acknowledgement of love and kindness. in sickness and in health.
but it was so special to witness. so touching. i left. and i think they cried. and typing this, i want to too.
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