last week i had the ENTIRE week off. it was a spring break of sorts that i got to celebrate with my my student boyfriend, cole. we went to san francisco and walked miles and miles. and ate delicious chinese treats from non-english speaking bakeries. and like bad medical people, we allowed the sun to kiss our cheeks and chests, soaking up the surprising sun without sunscreen.
but now, i'm back. back to seattle. back to work. cole is back in school. and already burnt out of his new rotation - outpatient GI. he's ready to be done with school. and i'm ready to retire! ha.
in all seriousness though. i had a good work week. i worked 36 hours and although it was busy, it felt productive. i got things accomplished with my patients. i was a good nurse. better than my tired, burnt-out, cynical self. i could feel myself rejuvenated from days of reading books. and time spent on my couch. and it didn't hurt that i cared for two very kind men. one who wore fluorescent pink glasses (and joked that they were in support of breast cancer, but were really just an expensive mistake when he ordered prescription glasses over the phone) and the other who at 65, has lost all of his independence because of a transplant we gave him 4 years ago.
in just two 12 hour shifts (i only cared for this patient 2 of my 3 work days), i found myself falling "in love" with him. i don't mean the kind of love i feel for cole. i mean the kind of love a nurse feels for a patient. the kind of love that means, even when i'm not at work, i think constantly about them. the kind of love that means, i really want what's best for this man - whether that means he lives or dies. the kind of love that helps me appreciate my role as nurse and reminds me i am good at what i do.
this man's medical history is complex to say the least. he's had two transplants. and suffered from years of graft versus host disease. and now, although in remission from his cancer, will most likely die from his GVHD - a side effect from his treatment. i've never seen anything like it - skin so taut that his lungs can't expand enough to breathe. skin so rigid and inflexible that his arms and legs are permanently bent, contracted, inhibiting his ability to scratch his own nose, wipe his own behind, and be the independent man he longs to be.
i think what endeared me to this man was his willingness to be vulnerable. he admitted that he was afraid. he admitted his weaknesses and found the courage to ask for help. when his wife or i assisted him with the simplest of tasks, he thanked us. he spoke of the many hardships he has faced with grace. and continued on with the bravery and determination of a hero.
i think my patients are heros. super men and super women, battling life one day at a time. one precious day at a time. not wasting any moments between breaths.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Sunday, March 2, 2014
handprints
you'd think after years of working on the same unit, with the same kinds of patients, i would have done most things by now. it's true. i've administered numerous kinds of chemotherapy, given drugs that i've never heard of, put my fingers in places i wish i hadn't... you get the idea. but last week, i did something i've never done before. and although it was a learning experience, i found it kind of weird. one of those moments where you want to laugh, but laughing would be inappropriate.
i helped a fellow nurse paint the hand of her patient with jet-black ink using a roller brush and made handprints on pretty paper. it was like an art project, for three year olds. only i'm not a pre-school teacher and my subject was not three. she was in her sixties. breathing with the help of a ventilator. her arms were flaccid and her fingers squeezed together tightly. her family members watched us, as if we had done this before. as if we should be good at arts and crafts with nearly dead people. and instead, we smudged paint. we had to make a few before we got any that looked like hands. and even the good ones looked like a preschooler had done it.
but to my amazement, the family loved it.
our unit is trying to get better at death and dying. thank god! this kind of improvement is right up my alley. i wish doctors and nurses were all comfortable talking about that journey. i wish we could light candles and sing. when parents of small children are dying, i wish we helped tape video messages or write letters. but instead, we're making handprints. and i guess it's a good start.
even though it felt weird to me.
i helped a fellow nurse paint the hand of her patient with jet-black ink using a roller brush and made handprints on pretty paper. it was like an art project, for three year olds. only i'm not a pre-school teacher and my subject was not three. she was in her sixties. breathing with the help of a ventilator. her arms were flaccid and her fingers squeezed together tightly. her family members watched us, as if we had done this before. as if we should be good at arts and crafts with nearly dead people. and instead, we smudged paint. we had to make a few before we got any that looked like hands. and even the good ones looked like a preschooler had done it.
but to my amazement, the family loved it.
our unit is trying to get better at death and dying. thank god! this kind of improvement is right up my alley. i wish doctors and nurses were all comfortable talking about that journey. i wish we could light candles and sing. when parents of small children are dying, i wish we helped tape video messages or write letters. but instead, we're making handprints. and i guess it's a good start.
even though it felt weird to me.
Saturday, February 22, 2014
where will i be...
i haven't written about work much. and i don't know why. i keep telling myself to.
things are changing on my unit. nurses are leaving. i think in the last year we've lost something like 20 nurses. many people whom i have enjoyed working with. many who have made my job a fun place to show up in the morning for a daunting 12.5 hours. they say they're leaving because they're unhappy. with our schedule. with management. with the success to loss ration.
but me. i still don't feel like leaving. it's not that i'm perfectly content at my job. but i don't like change. and i still like the remainder of my colleagues. and although 12.5 hour shifts are LONG, i have a permanent day position. and my schedule pretty much rules. and i typically take off a month per year. and i've accumulated plenty of sick and vacation time. enough to take some maternity leave if i ever get to be pregnant. and i'm comfortable there. i know what i am doing. i'm good at it. people ask me questions and i know the answers.
at the same time, i don't see myself there forever. and that scares me. where would i go? and when? will i ever be brave enough to become a home health hospice nurse? or will i do something totally uncharacteristic and try labor and delivery? (i'm fairly certain the answer is NO). ICU? would nights ever work better for me? or a clinic job? school nursing?
a lot of unknown scares me. some excites me.
i wonder where i will be a year from now.
five years from now...
ten.
things are changing on my unit. nurses are leaving. i think in the last year we've lost something like 20 nurses. many people whom i have enjoyed working with. many who have made my job a fun place to show up in the morning for a daunting 12.5 hours. they say they're leaving because they're unhappy. with our schedule. with management. with the success to loss ration.
but me. i still don't feel like leaving. it's not that i'm perfectly content at my job. but i don't like change. and i still like the remainder of my colleagues. and although 12.5 hour shifts are LONG, i have a permanent day position. and my schedule pretty much rules. and i typically take off a month per year. and i've accumulated plenty of sick and vacation time. enough to take some maternity leave if i ever get to be pregnant. and i'm comfortable there. i know what i am doing. i'm good at it. people ask me questions and i know the answers.
at the same time, i don't see myself there forever. and that scares me. where would i go? and when? will i ever be brave enough to become a home health hospice nurse? or will i do something totally uncharacteristic and try labor and delivery? (i'm fairly certain the answer is NO). ICU? would nights ever work better for me? or a clinic job? school nursing?
a lot of unknown scares me. some excites me.
i wonder where i will be a year from now.
five years from now...
ten.
Friday, January 31, 2014
maybe it will be me
yesterday was my last day working with cole on my unit. today is his last day as a student there and although i tried to work overtime today to enjoy him for just a few more hours, they didn't need me. and so here i sit, waiting for my partner to come home to me. waiting to kiss him as he walks in the door. waiting to see what happens next in our ever changing life.
working with your partner is challenging. like i mentioned earlier, i watched my parents work together. and it often seemed a struggle. but i must say, i enjoyed working with cole this last month. we never cared for the same patient. and our jobs are so different (even though we are both healthcare professionals). but we were able to wake up around the same time. get ready side by side. drive in together on the days of work we shared. gaze at each other down long hallways. flirt ever so slightly. and share work tales at the end of the day that we both understood.
at the same time, there are things i very much disliked about working together. sometimes waking up at the same time and trying to get out the door at the same time was a struggle. sometimes we fought over parking money and who gets to drive the car home and who has to take the bus (because i get off at 1930 and he gets off at 1700). sometimes i didn't want to hear about cole's work day - especially on my days off - because i get enough of cancer while i am at work (and unfortunately, think enough about it when i am not). and sometimes, although we shared the same kinds of patients with the same diseases and complications, we were interested in different parts of their stories. cole has an interest in immunology and cell lines; he wants to know the difference between CD45 cells and NK cells. i, on the other hand, care less about that and more about how much my patient misses their children. or how worried they are about their finances. or how afraid they are to die.
i am not suggesting that one interest or role is more significant than the other. both are equally important. but i found it very interesting that even when taking care of the very same population of people, cole and i are different. different is good. and sometimes it's hard.
cole very much enjoyed working with stem cell transplant patients. and over the last four weeks, we dreamed of what it would look like if he chose to work there. and a part of me thinks it would be good. i would be excited for him to start and learn and share that part of my life. and a part of me thinks it would be hard.
cole is not finished with school until august. august 28th to be exact. and he likely won't start working until late fall or early winter, due to taking his boards, getting licensed, and finding a job. but i'm excited to see what his future holds. what our future holds. where he will be working. and with whom.
maybe it will be me.
working with your partner is challenging. like i mentioned earlier, i watched my parents work together. and it often seemed a struggle. but i must say, i enjoyed working with cole this last month. we never cared for the same patient. and our jobs are so different (even though we are both healthcare professionals). but we were able to wake up around the same time. get ready side by side. drive in together on the days of work we shared. gaze at each other down long hallways. flirt ever so slightly. and share work tales at the end of the day that we both understood.
at the same time, there are things i very much disliked about working together. sometimes waking up at the same time and trying to get out the door at the same time was a struggle. sometimes we fought over parking money and who gets to drive the car home and who has to take the bus (because i get off at 1930 and he gets off at 1700). sometimes i didn't want to hear about cole's work day - especially on my days off - because i get enough of cancer while i am at work (and unfortunately, think enough about it when i am not). and sometimes, although we shared the same kinds of patients with the same diseases and complications, we were interested in different parts of their stories. cole has an interest in immunology and cell lines; he wants to know the difference between CD45 cells and NK cells. i, on the other hand, care less about that and more about how much my patient misses their children. or how worried they are about their finances. or how afraid they are to die.
i am not suggesting that one interest or role is more significant than the other. both are equally important. but i found it very interesting that even when taking care of the very same population of people, cole and i are different. different is good. and sometimes it's hard.
cole very much enjoyed working with stem cell transplant patients. and over the last four weeks, we dreamed of what it would look like if he chose to work there. and a part of me thinks it would be good. i would be excited for him to start and learn and share that part of my life. and a part of me thinks it would be hard.
cole is not finished with school until august. august 28th to be exact. and he likely won't start working until late fall or early winter, due to taking his boards, getting licensed, and finding a job. but i'm excited to see what his future holds. what our future holds. where he will be working. and with whom.
maybe it will be me.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
grateful
sometimes it takes a patient with MS who is completely immobile and dependent to remind you how amazingly privileged you are...
somehow we ended up talking about cuba. and i was able to say, "i've been there. i circumnavigated the globe while in college and i wound up on a university campus with 600 other college students listening to fidel castro speak to us for FIVE hours."
then, at some other point in our day, we talked about india. and i chimed in, "oh, i've been there." at that, my patient said, "i am fascinated by you. what were you doing there?" to which i replied, "oh, i worked at mother teresa's home for the destitute and dying for four months." my patient was astounded.
i guess my "history" is kind of interesting. i've had some amazing experiences and completed some pretty monumental tasks.
but what really makes me realize how lucky i am (in addition to having had the opportunity to travel the world) is when i help my patient turn his body in bed and he moans and groans. or when he has to ask me to bend his knees for him so that he can stretch his hamstrings. or when i clean his totally sore scrotum and he thanks me profusely. or when i use a ceiling lift to transfer him like cattle from bed to a chair. or when i comfort a groan man as he cries, "i can't lose my ability to walk."
i am an independent, healthy, strong woman. and THAT is something i won't take for granted - thanks to K in room 8260 for making me aware and reminding me to be grateful!
somehow we ended up talking about cuba. and i was able to say, "i've been there. i circumnavigated the globe while in college and i wound up on a university campus with 600 other college students listening to fidel castro speak to us for FIVE hours."
then, at some other point in our day, we talked about india. and i chimed in, "oh, i've been there." at that, my patient said, "i am fascinated by you. what were you doing there?" to which i replied, "oh, i worked at mother teresa's home for the destitute and dying for four months." my patient was astounded.
i guess my "history" is kind of interesting. i've had some amazing experiences and completed some pretty monumental tasks.
but what really makes me realize how lucky i am (in addition to having had the opportunity to travel the world) is when i help my patient turn his body in bed and he moans and groans. or when he has to ask me to bend his knees for him so that he can stretch his hamstrings. or when i clean his totally sore scrotum and he thanks me profusely. or when i use a ceiling lift to transfer him like cattle from bed to a chair. or when i comfort a groan man as he cries, "i can't lose my ability to walk."
i am an independent, healthy, strong woman. and THAT is something i won't take for granted - thanks to K in room 8260 for making me aware and reminding me to be grateful!
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
happy soul
on monday and tuesday, cole and i shared the bathroom while getting ready in the morning. i brushed my teeth as he shaved. i showered as he flossed. and after our quick, hurried morning routines, we were out the door and on our way to coffee, both decked out in the most amazing argyle socks - mine with neon yellow, his with turquoise (socks are my thing, and now, his!).
our days were busy. mine with nursing tasks. his with physician assistant work and student learning. we saw one another at a distance, down long white hospital halls. and we smiled in passing. i avoided grabbing his behind and he avoided kissing me. but somehow, we danced... flirtatiously. eyes twinkling at one another. hearts beating faster.
people on my unit know cole. my friends have spent time with him. my manager has met him at work functions. and because, over the last few months, i couldn't keep my excitement to myself, almost ALL of my nurse friends/colleagues have been anticipating his arrival. but it was the nutritionist's comment that made me smile the most. she is indian and although she speaks english well and with a beautiful accent, her comment came out differently than most people would say it. and i like her observation. she said this - "i see your soul happy today!"
that feels good.
our days were busy. mine with nursing tasks. his with physician assistant work and student learning. we saw one another at a distance, down long white hospital halls. and we smiled in passing. i avoided grabbing his behind and he avoided kissing me. but somehow, we danced... flirtatiously. eyes twinkling at one another. hearts beating faster.
people on my unit know cole. my friends have spent time with him. my manager has met him at work functions. and because, over the last few months, i couldn't keep my excitement to myself, almost ALL of my nurse friends/colleagues have been anticipating his arrival. but it was the nutritionist's comment that made me smile the most. she is indian and although she speaks english well and with a beautiful accent, her comment came out differently than most people would say it. and i like her observation. she said this - "i see your soul happy today!"
that feels good.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
working with your partner
in 1985, my parents went bankrupt and had to close down their motorcycle shop. they swore they would never run a business together again.
so, imagine my surprise, disappointment, and non-support, when i was in high school and they announced that they were going to buy a small swiss-german deli and run the business together - my dad cooking and my mom running the finances. i thought it was a horrible idea. i was sure they'd get divorced.
they fought. and fought some more. but in the end - they succeeded. they created a quirky little restaurant famed on mercer island for the best soups, salads, and pretzel rolls in town (thanks to my dad). and the best, friendliest service (thanks to my mom). AND they are still married.
so, get this. cole is spending the next month "working" on MY unit. he will have a one month student rotation on the bone marrow transplant service. and although i tend to think working with your partner is not the best idea, i'm totally excited about our future together as cancer providers!
i'm excited for some silly things. first, we might actually get to carpool in the mornings. it'll be nice to have someone awake with me at the butt crack of dawn. AND, i'm excited to see cole all dressed up all day long. it'll be nice to share a lunch here and there if time allows. and of course, there will be coffee breaks and tootsie roll runs (again if time permits).
but i think what is best about this opportunity is that it will allow cole to see what my job entails. i know cole thinks i am a good nurse. he has said this before. but i want him to know WHO i am nursing. i want him to meet my patients, to hear their stories, and to witness their strength, courage, and sometimes anguish and heartbreak. it's not that i want him to be sad along side me (as i often am), but i want him to know me better by knowing my work better.
cole is truly a brilliant student. he has a passion for learning and succeeding that is unrivaled by most. i know he will do well as a physician's assistant. and i would be honored to stand beside him as a nurse to his patients.
p.s. happy new year! may 2014 be great!
so, imagine my surprise, disappointment, and non-support, when i was in high school and they announced that they were going to buy a small swiss-german deli and run the business together - my dad cooking and my mom running the finances. i thought it was a horrible idea. i was sure they'd get divorced.
they fought. and fought some more. but in the end - they succeeded. they created a quirky little restaurant famed on mercer island for the best soups, salads, and pretzel rolls in town (thanks to my dad). and the best, friendliest service (thanks to my mom). AND they are still married.
so, get this. cole is spending the next month "working" on MY unit. he will have a one month student rotation on the bone marrow transplant service. and although i tend to think working with your partner is not the best idea, i'm totally excited about our future together as cancer providers!
i'm excited for some silly things. first, we might actually get to carpool in the mornings. it'll be nice to have someone awake with me at the butt crack of dawn. AND, i'm excited to see cole all dressed up all day long. it'll be nice to share a lunch here and there if time allows. and of course, there will be coffee breaks and tootsie roll runs (again if time permits).
but i think what is best about this opportunity is that it will allow cole to see what my job entails. i know cole thinks i am a good nurse. he has said this before. but i want him to know WHO i am nursing. i want him to meet my patients, to hear their stories, and to witness their strength, courage, and sometimes anguish and heartbreak. it's not that i want him to be sad along side me (as i often am), but i want him to know me better by knowing my work better.
cole is truly a brilliant student. he has a passion for learning and succeeding that is unrivaled by most. i know he will do well as a physician's assistant. and i would be honored to stand beside him as a nurse to his patients.
p.s. happy new year! may 2014 be great!
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