To all my faithful readers... I can't imagine there are many of you left out there.
Just a quick hello and "see you later" (not exactly goodbye).
Blogging is just not happening in the midst of my busy life right now, and I'm "giving up" on it for now.
I appreciate all the thoughts, feedback, and smiles you've provided. I hope to check in on your blogs when I get a chance... you've always been a source of inspiration and encouragement.
So, for now, hasta luego!
Showing posts with label my own private me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my own private me. Show all posts
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Still Here.
If there has been a lack of writing as of late, it hasn't been for lack of things to say, just the time in which to put the words to "paper" (or screen, as it were).
Status: MIA
Hope to be back in full force soon.
Status: MIA
Hope to be back in full force soon.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Sunshine, Happy
Does anyone else have spring fever so bad it hurts?
Despite the fact that we have snow predicted for Thursday, today is a beautiful tease, a happy reminder that inevitably the snow WILL melt, the juncos will scatter to the north, and the robins will return.
Thank goodness for sunshine!
*****
It's an odd world that we inhabit as hospital nurses, particularly on night shift.
Surrounded by concrete walls, ensconced in darkness, our shifts are marked by activity and change, nonetheless. We take vitals, listen to lung sounds, page doctors, deliver babies, regardless of the outside world and irrespective of the late hour.
Usually, we have a vague sense of what's happening outside as the few patients and doctors come and go, remarking upon significant events or weather phenomena. But there are also times when we walk through the hospital doors at the end of a shift, only to find a dense fog, a new layer of snow, a howling wind. The quiet corridors and dim rooms don't always belie these changes, as they have no bearing on what happens within.
Just a thought, as I sit here and soak up the luscious new warmth. My friends who are working today have no sense of this bright sky, this gentle breeze. How strange to think that if I were there, or were sleeping between shifts today, I, too, would have missed out on this brief glimpse of spring coming.
Thank goodness for the reprieve of a few days off!
Friday, March 09, 2007
Driving to Work in the Dark
Snow drifts on the ground.
My breath hangs uncertainly in the frigid air.
Winter still. Stubborn.
But as I drove to work in the warm cocoon of my car, I was transformed by a vision of bright rows of lights, shining festively through the transparent walls of a greenhouse at one of the nurseries I pass by.
Instantly invigorated!
I imagine the vibrant lights perched above tiny seedlings, coaxing them to grow despite the lingering reality of winter outside their sheltered walls.
And as the birdsongs further testify this morning, spring is coming.
They know it.
And I am hopeful again.
******
I enjoy working at a teaching hospital. Really.
However.
It can be extremely, astoundingly, incomprehensibly frustrating when the team of residents on call are a bunch of indecisive know-it-alls. Sounds contradictory, right? Maybe that's why the plan of care for my clinic patient (whose care is overseen by the residents) changed every 5 minutes or so last night. They all know it ALL and are ALL making the decision.
Draw labs at 0500.
(talk to senior resident)
Cancel that, let's recheck them stat.
Straight cath her.
(discuss with attending)
Actually, now that you just cath'd her, I think we're gonna need a foley.
Let's hold off on the Mag.
(enter senior resident)
Pressure's up but we'll just keep a close eye on it. And better draw those labs again.
(update chief again)
Now we are starting Mag. And antibiotics.
And some rectal Tylenol.
And I think she's gonna need a section.
(review with attending)
Yeah, let's just do the C-section now.
Hold that thought, the other clinic patient needs a section, too. This one can wait an hour.
*** hour goes by while I furiously try to catch up with meds and charting and explain to family why, despite the fact that the decision has been made, we can't do the C-section right now***
(re-enter senior resident)
Let's go, we're ready NOW!
Intersperse numerous cervical exams by whichever resident is around at the time, and you may have a potential cause for the chorio.
Argh.
Baby did great, and the patient came through it all okay.
The nurse, on the other hand, feels defeated and sad. For the patient, for herself, and for a system that could clearly be better.
My breath hangs uncertainly in the frigid air.
Winter still. Stubborn.
But as I drove to work in the warm cocoon of my car, I was transformed by a vision of bright rows of lights, shining festively through the transparent walls of a greenhouse at one of the nurseries I pass by.
Instantly invigorated!
I imagine the vibrant lights perched above tiny seedlings, coaxing them to grow despite the lingering reality of winter outside their sheltered walls.
And as the birdsongs further testify this morning, spring is coming.
They know it.
And I am hopeful again.
******
I enjoy working at a teaching hospital. Really.
However.
It can be extremely, astoundingly, incomprehensibly frustrating when the team of residents on call are a bunch of indecisive know-it-alls. Sounds contradictory, right? Maybe that's why the plan of care for my clinic patient (whose care is overseen by the residents) changed every 5 minutes or so last night. They all know it ALL and are ALL making the decision.
Draw labs at 0500.
(talk to senior resident)
Cancel that, let's recheck them stat.
Straight cath her.
(discuss with attending)
Actually, now that you just cath'd her, I think we're gonna need a foley.
Let's hold off on the Mag.
(enter senior resident)
Pressure's up but we'll just keep a close eye on it. And better draw those labs again.
(update chief again)
Now we are starting Mag. And antibiotics.
And some rectal Tylenol.
And I think she's gonna need a section.
(review with attending)
Yeah, let's just do the C-section now.
Hold that thought, the other clinic patient needs a section, too. This one can wait an hour.
*** hour goes by while I furiously try to catch up with meds and charting and explain to family why, despite the fact that the decision has been made, we can't do the C-section right now***
(re-enter senior resident)
Let's go, we're ready NOW!
Intersperse numerous cervical exams by whichever resident is around at the time, and you may have a potential cause for the chorio.
Argh.
Baby did great, and the patient came through it all okay.
The nurse, on the other hand, feels defeated and sad. For the patient, for herself, and for a system that could clearly be better.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
The 50-Yard Dash
Gearing up for another weekend.
Thinking, "I must be a sprinter."
Life is cyclical, and everything in my life seems to rotate through short bursts of activity.
This week, working out.
Last week, housecleaning.
Before that, writing.
Dieting.
Keeping in touch with friends.
Knitting.
Photography.
Some weeks (a lot of them during these dark winter months), I can't seem to accomplish or keep up with any of it.
I don't have the stamina to sustain any one of my endeavors consistently in the long run. I am not a long-distance runner. I don't know how some people do it.
They must drink a lot more coffee than I do.
I know what my constant is: procrastination. I'm an expert, and that one never fails me.
We all have our talents, right?
Thinking, "I must be a sprinter."
Life is cyclical, and everything in my life seems to rotate through short bursts of activity.
This week, working out.
Last week, housecleaning.
Before that, writing.
Dieting.
Keeping in touch with friends.
Knitting.
Photography.
Some weeks (a lot of them during these dark winter months), I can't seem to accomplish or keep up with any of it.
I don't have the stamina to sustain any one of my endeavors consistently in the long run. I am not a long-distance runner. I don't know how some people do it.
They must drink a lot more coffee than I do.
I know what my constant is: procrastination. I'm an expert, and that one never fails me.
We all have our talents, right?
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Burning, Burning
Here I am, after taking some of my fellow bloggers' fabulous advice, straight off the treadmill, riding high on workout endorphins (and not a little lactic acid!)... burn out? Me??? Never!
Well, okay. I'm trying.
This nursing thing is a roller coaster. A lot like life in general. Good days, bad days. I try not to carry too much of it with me, but apparently am not completely successful in this endeavor. The work dreams are not a rarity. They happen almost every weekend, and occasionally during the week. I'm hoping they're just my mind's way of decompressing.
On the one hand, nursing is a great career. Talk about job stability. They're practically beating down our doors to offer jobs to qualified nurses! I'll always have multiple avenues of practice available if I become unsatisfied with the work that I do now. And I still look forward to most of my shifts, have a sense of camaraderie with my coworkers, enjoy the way my schedule works with my life (most of the time), and am forever in awe of the breathtaking moments my job allows me to witness.
But there are other moments, too. Anyone who has read my blog before can attest to the heavy amount of skepticism I hold for the hospital establishment and the system in general. Paperwork and charting are significantly overvalued in a legalistic atmosphere that reeks of the fear of liability and malpractice. Night shift is great, but my body does not always agree... I've become accustomed to a certain amount of fatigue and fuzziness that never really goes away. And on... and on...
So what, you say?
Nothin' really... these were just a few of my thoughts while burning calories and trying not to burn out.
Well, okay. I'm trying.
This nursing thing is a roller coaster. A lot like life in general. Good days, bad days. I try not to carry too much of it with me, but apparently am not completely successful in this endeavor. The work dreams are not a rarity. They happen almost every weekend, and occasionally during the week. I'm hoping they're just my mind's way of decompressing.
On the one hand, nursing is a great career. Talk about job stability. They're practically beating down our doors to offer jobs to qualified nurses! I'll always have multiple avenues of practice available if I become unsatisfied with the work that I do now. And I still look forward to most of my shifts, have a sense of camaraderie with my coworkers, enjoy the way my schedule works with my life (most of the time), and am forever in awe of the breathtaking moments my job allows me to witness.
But there are other moments, too. Anyone who has read my blog before can attest to the heavy amount of skepticism I hold for the hospital establishment and the system in general. Paperwork and charting are significantly overvalued in a legalistic atmosphere that reeks of the fear of liability and malpractice. Night shift is great, but my body does not always agree... I've become accustomed to a certain amount of fatigue and fuzziness that never really goes away. And on... and on...
So what, you say?
Nothin' really... these were just a few of my thoughts while burning calories and trying not to burn out.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Working Hard, Even When You're Not There
Vivid dreams of a terrible shift... working, working. So busy, patients everywhere, bad heart tones in every room. I must have been in charge... I found myself running from one room to the next, putting out fires, starting IV's, calling docs. Remember struggling for a while with IV lines that were hopelessly tangled, and not compatible with our pumps, so I must have dug up an ancient pump from somewhere and figured out how to get the IV running and attached to a pole. Ran to another room to help with an IV, and a newer nurse was poking her with a 20 gauge... thinking, "What are you doing?! We need an 18 gauge!"
In the midst of it all, my kids were there with me, except it was my friend's kids, but they were mine, and the baby was so small, and I had to hold him while he slept. It really pulled at my heartstrings as the chaos swarmed around us.
So strange.
And I haven't even worked my first night this week.
In the midst of it all, my kids were there with me, except it was my friend's kids, but they were mine, and the baby was so small, and I had to hold him while he slept. It really pulled at my heartstrings as the chaos swarmed around us.
So strange.
And I haven't even worked my first night this week.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
And the Meme Goes On...
Fabulous!
/jo and Kim have both posted their *must-have* lists, and tagged a few of my other favorite bloggers...
This meme is proving to be an interesting glimpse inside other nurses' heads.
How do you come up with the four things you really think you can't live without?
Where do you start?
Where do you draw the line?
What do you covet?
What do you really desire that is just beyond your grasp?
These are not things we often sit down and mull over, unless prompted.
I found "What I Covet" to be most challenging and revealing. There are any number of things that I'd really like to have, but when the thought of a real vacation occurred, I could feel my heart beat a little faster, my adrenaline begin to surge. I usually put desires like this far from my conscious mind because I know how unlikely they are to become reality, at least anytime soon. But all the same, we must have something to dream about, something for which to strive. The mental pictures evoked by thoughts of a leisurely stroll through the cobblestone streets of a small Italian village, a vigorous walk up the winding staircase at the Basilique de Sacre-Coeur, an hour or two or four wandering the halls of any museum. For whatever reason, these images motivate me, give me that essential burst of energy, that ray of hope that there may be more to this than day in, day out, week after week. A peek into the future, if I can hold onto it and make it mine.
I'm off to save the world, or at the very least a bunch of moms and babies!
/jo and Kim have both posted their *must-have* lists, and tagged a few of my other favorite bloggers...
This meme is proving to be an interesting glimpse inside other nurses' heads.
How do you come up with the four things you really think you can't live without?
Where do you start?
Where do you draw the line?
What do you covet?
What do you really desire that is just beyond your grasp?
These are not things we often sit down and mull over, unless prompted.
I found "What I Covet" to be most challenging and revealing. There are any number of things that I'd really like to have, but when the thought of a real vacation occurred, I could feel my heart beat a little faster, my adrenaline begin to surge. I usually put desires like this far from my conscious mind because I know how unlikely they are to become reality, at least anytime soon. But all the same, we must have something to dream about, something for which to strive. The mental pictures evoked by thoughts of a leisurely stroll through the cobblestone streets of a small Italian village, a vigorous walk up the winding staircase at the Basilique de Sacre-Coeur, an hour or two or four wandering the halls of any museum. For whatever reason, these images motivate me, give me that essential burst of energy, that ray of hope that there may be more to this than day in, day out, week after week. A peek into the future, if I can hold onto it and make it mine.
I'm off to save the world, or at the very least a bunch of moms and babies!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Things I Can't Live Without
Inspiration strikes! (finally.)
Well, ok. Shane tagged me, so I'm more or less compelled to seek out the inspiration to write... but this was fun, and I look forward to reading others' responses as well. Keep tabs on everyone who's been tagged for this meme at the Nursing Jobs blog.
I had to laugh while browsing through a few of the past "Things I Can't Live Without" articles on Inc.com, looking for that ever-elusive inspiration. The successful business owners who have been interviewed elaborate on the objects of value in their daily professional lives. They *can't live* without a whole lotta really expensive gadgets and gizmos. This is not what I had first planned to blog about when I imagined the most important aspects of my working world. I was thinking more along the lines of: I can't live without sleep, I can't live without the constant intellectual and emotional support of my co-workers, I can't live without hugs from my kids when I walk in the door...
In the interest of sticking to the topic, I'll conform to the heart of the idea. I'm not sure I can narrow it down to just four, but then again, my "things" aren't quite as extravagant as those Inc 500 folks, either. Keeping it simple and honest, here are the "things" that I can't live without:
Dansko Clogs $104.95
I heart my clogs. In all seriousness, I could not live without them, as my feet would likely go on strike. And with the miles I put on every night I work, this is not an option. I flirted with a few months of plantar fasciitis a couple of years ago, and don't care to be debilitated like that ever again. These clogs are awesome, durable, supportive, and best of all... blood and amniotic fluid-proof! They are worth the chunk of change.
At the same time, clogs and sterile blue scrubs are terribly bo-ring! Comfortable, but come ON. It's like wearing unflattering pajamas to work every night. So, I have about a gazillion pairs of fun socks, just to spice it up a bit, even if I'm the only one that can see them. I know they're there.
Johnson's softcream extra care healing hand cream $4.79
The effect of washing your hands approximately 501 times every night? Hands that are raw, chapped, cracking at the knuckles, and peeling between the fingers. Argh! I love this lotion, and it works.
bandage scissors $3.99
I keep a pair of my own bandage scissors in the back pocket of my scrubs, and I use them constantly throughout the night. Who knew that something so rudimentary could be absolutely essential?
clicky pens
Gotta love drug reps. Well, ok, not really. But I do love the pens that they leave lying around, usually transported to L&D in the pockets of the various docs that constitute a steady stream through the unit all day and night. I always like to have at least one "clicky" pen in my pocket... they're more user-friendly and they don't go launching out of my pocket every time I bend over like the regular Bic ones do.
However, I was flabbergasted to find these pens for sale on e-Bay. Hellooooo, people... they're FREE!
Confessions on the Dance Floor by Madonna $12.99
Ok, I admit it. I'm a Madonna fan. I just can't help it. This CD gets me psyched up for working, working out, doing laundry, whatever. When I'm not listening to NPR on the way to work, I'm listening to this for a guaranteed burst of energy.
What I Covet ...
A real vacation. $$$ way-more-than-I-can-afford.99
It's been years. Ideally, I'd love to take a trip to Europe. Doesn't even really matter where... England, France, the Netherlands, Italy, Spain. I'd take any or all of them, preferably with ample time for mindless wandering, lots of picture-taking, exploring castles and cemeteries, visiting museums and lounging at charming cafes. Ohhhhhh...
Who's Next...
I can't resist tagging Kim at Emergiblog. She's one of my favorite bloggers, plus I'm interested to see what "things" she can't live without!
JustCallMeJo over at Sinus Arrhythmia has an insightful and quirky take on the world of ICU nursing. What can't you live without, /jo?
Well, ok. Shane tagged me, so I'm more or less compelled to seek out the inspiration to write... but this was fun, and I look forward to reading others' responses as well. Keep tabs on everyone who's been tagged for this meme at the Nursing Jobs blog.
I had to laugh while browsing through a few of the past "Things I Can't Live Without" articles on Inc.com, looking for that ever-elusive inspiration. The successful business owners who have been interviewed elaborate on the objects of value in their daily professional lives. They *can't live* without a whole lotta really expensive gadgets and gizmos. This is not what I had first planned to blog about when I imagined the most important aspects of my working world. I was thinking more along the lines of: I can't live without sleep, I can't live without the constant intellectual and emotional support of my co-workers, I can't live without hugs from my kids when I walk in the door...
In the interest of sticking to the topic, I'll conform to the heart of the idea. I'm not sure I can narrow it down to just four, but then again, my "things" aren't quite as extravagant as those Inc 500 folks, either. Keeping it simple and honest, here are the "things" that I can't live without:
Dansko Clogs $104.95I heart my clogs. In all seriousness, I could not live without them, as my feet would likely go on strike. And with the miles I put on every night I work, this is not an option. I flirted with a few months of plantar fasciitis a couple of years ago, and don't care to be debilitated like that ever again. These clogs are awesome, durable, supportive, and best of all... blood and amniotic fluid-proof! They are worth the chunk of change.
At the same time, clogs and sterile blue scrubs are terribly bo-ring! Comfortable, but come ON. It's like wearing unflattering pajamas to work every night. So, I have about a gazillion pairs of fun socks, just to spice it up a bit, even if I'm the only one that can see them. I know they're there.
Johnson's softcream extra care healing hand cream $4.79The effect of washing your hands approximately 501 times every night? Hands that are raw, chapped, cracking at the knuckles, and peeling between the fingers. Argh! I love this lotion, and it works.
bandage scissors $3.99
I keep a pair of my own bandage scissors in the back pocket of my scrubs, and I use them constantly throughout the night. Who knew that something so rudimentary could be absolutely essential?
clicky pens
Gotta love drug reps. Well, ok, not really. But I do love the pens that they leave lying around, usually transported to L&D in the pockets of the various docs that constitute a steady stream through the unit all day and night. I always like to have at least one "clicky" pen in my pocket... they're more user-friendly and they don't go launching out of my pocket every time I bend over like the regular Bic ones do.
However, I was flabbergasted to find these pens for sale on e-Bay. Hellooooo, people... they're FREE!
Confessions on the Dance Floor by Madonna $12.99
Ok, I admit it. I'm a Madonna fan. I just can't help it. This CD gets me psyched up for working, working out, doing laundry, whatever. When I'm not listening to NPR on the way to work, I'm listening to this for a guaranteed burst of energy.
What I Covet ...
A real vacation. $$$ way-more-than-I-can-afford.99
It's been years. Ideally, I'd love to take a trip to Europe. Doesn't even really matter where... England, France, the Netherlands, Italy, Spain. I'd take any or all of them, preferably with ample time for mindless wandering, lots of picture-taking, exploring castles and cemeteries, visiting museums and lounging at charming cafes. Ohhhhhh...
Who's Next...
I can't resist tagging Kim at Emergiblog. She's one of my favorite bloggers, plus I'm interested to see what "things" she can't live without!
JustCallMeJo over at Sinus Arrhythmia has an insightful and quirky take on the world of ICU nursing. What can't you live without, /jo?
Tag, you're it!
Plus, go check out Beth's "things" at PixelRN. Enjoy!
Monday, January 22, 2007
How Will Nurse Blogging Change You?
Since embarking on this nurse blog journey, I've noticed several changes in myself, both practical and philosophical. Perhaps these are changes that would have occurred in the natural evolution of my nursing career... I'll never know.
I am increasingly aware of issues about which I would never have given a second thought, and I have started to apply what I'm learning at the bedside. I've also found myself becoming more lucid and verbal in work-related situations which I previously would probably have either ignored or gone with the status quo. Lately, I look at nursing issues (and sometimes life as a whole) from a new and wider perspective.
Take some time blog-hopping, described here by the Curmudgeon. Or simply read through a few of the links on my sidebar. You'll see what I mean.
I have to conclude that reading up on the opinions and experiences of the other medical bloggers out there, and responding or at least pondering a response, has changed me. Perhaps not always for the better. I have to admit I've been caught up from time to time, mindlessly lurking from one blog to the next, soaking up useless and sometimes utterly personal information from the multitude of blogs available.
However, if I peruse with a purpose (wink), sometimes I am struck with inspiration. To change my practice, adjust my attitude, or be called to action. All of which, I find, are stretching my limits and my yearning for growth and knowledge anew.
At times, I am also discouraged by what I read. I must confess that I am humbled by the bloggers whom I admire, those who write both prolifically and eloquently on a level to which I aspire. But if I stay silent until I measure up, this blog will lay dormant forever. It is those I seek to emulate who make me both afraid to click the "Publish" button and compelled to do so.
Speaking of my heroes, you can read Kim's ideas for beginning nurse bloggers here. See what I mean? Witty, comprehensive, insightful? Check, check, and check.
I'd love to hear how blogging has changed YOU... for better or worse. After all, this dialogue is what blogging is all about.
Or something.
I am increasingly aware of issues about which I would never have given a second thought, and I have started to apply what I'm learning at the bedside. I've also found myself becoming more lucid and verbal in work-related situations which I previously would probably have either ignored or gone with the status quo. Lately, I look at nursing issues (and sometimes life as a whole) from a new and wider perspective.
Take some time blog-hopping, described here by the Curmudgeon. Or simply read through a few of the links on my sidebar. You'll see what I mean.
I have to conclude that reading up on the opinions and experiences of the other medical bloggers out there, and responding or at least pondering a response, has changed me. Perhaps not always for the better. I have to admit I've been caught up from time to time, mindlessly lurking from one blog to the next, soaking up useless and sometimes utterly personal information from the multitude of blogs available.
However, if I peruse with a purpose (wink), sometimes I am struck with inspiration. To change my practice, adjust my attitude, or be called to action. All of which, I find, are stretching my limits and my yearning for growth and knowledge anew.
At times, I am also discouraged by what I read. I must confess that I am humbled by the bloggers whom I admire, those who write both prolifically and eloquently on a level to which I aspire. But if I stay silent until I measure up, this blog will lay dormant forever. It is those I seek to emulate who make me both afraid to click the "Publish" button and compelled to do so.
Speaking of my heroes, you can read Kim's ideas for beginning nurse bloggers here. See what I mean? Witty, comprehensive, insightful? Check, check, and check.
I'd love to hear how blogging has changed YOU... for better or worse. After all, this dialogue is what blogging is all about.
Or something.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Give Thanks
It's a day to reflect on all that we are thankful for.
I am thankful for the calling to a noble profession dedicated to helping people.
I am thankful for the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of families every time I go to work.
I am thankful for the tremendous moment of birth when the ultimate outcome is truly out of our hands, that blink of an eye in which a tiny life begins... and is both completely dependent yet must breath and suck and pump blood all on its own.
I am thankful for the technology and advances in medicine that allow us to help sick moms and babes.
I am thankful that most deliveries require no such technology.
I am thankful for the team of dedicated nurses and other staff members with whom I work, the people who make work more than bearable, the ones who fill it with laughter, smiles and enjoyment.
I am thankful for the instances when there is no laughter or joy, when life is at its rawest and most real.
I am thankful that I can return to the loving, understanding arms of my family and a warm, inviting home.
Happy Thanksgiving.
I am thankful for the calling to a noble profession dedicated to helping people.
I am thankful for the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of families every time I go to work.
I am thankful for the tremendous moment of birth when the ultimate outcome is truly out of our hands, that blink of an eye in which a tiny life begins... and is both completely dependent yet must breath and suck and pump blood all on its own.
I am thankful for the technology and advances in medicine that allow us to help sick moms and babes.
I am thankful that most deliveries require no such technology.
I am thankful for the team of dedicated nurses and other staff members with whom I work, the people who make work more than bearable, the ones who fill it with laughter, smiles and enjoyment.
I am thankful for the instances when there is no laughter or joy, when life is at its rawest and most real.
I am thankful that I can return to the loving, understanding arms of my family and a warm, inviting home.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
the Sandman Cometh
I love to sleep.
As I snuggled between the covers and closed my eyes the other night, this thought superceded all others in my mind.
I love to sleep.
And night-time sleep is somehow so different than sleeping after working all night. I thrill at the chance to climb into bed along with the rest of the "normal" (i.e. daytime workers) world.
I'm not sure that people who exist primarily in the daytime can actually appreciate the extent to which a night-shift worker can long for sleep, the way we ache to stretch out and feel that release. Granted, I have a few kooky co-workers that only require a few odd hours of sleep after working a 12 hour night shift. I am NOT one of those people.
What can I say? I love to sleep.
Due to some scheduling changes, I have an extra stretch of nights off over the course of this week. While I would normally start to readjust to a daytime schedule at home on the same day that I have to go back to work, this week I have a few extra days of "normalcy". I feel like my perpetually foggy brain has cleared and that I have a ounce or so of energy and motivation when I usually would not. It's amazing how our circadian rhythms rule us. And how we throw them out the window for necessity's sake.
Night shift definitely has its perks. Lack of sleep is NOT one of them.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Family Nurse Extraordinaire... otherwise known as a Comedy of Errors
As a nurse, you can and probably will find yourself appointed the Family Health Expert on any and all health-related topics.
I should know. I have spent the last day and a half proving the point.
It seemed simple enough at the start. Grandmother (GM) calls me and says she thinks she has a bladder infection and has been trying to reach her physician to call in an antibiotic prescription (I know, eyebrows raised) but just can't seem to get the phone call to go through. Little did we know, making the connection would be the least of our problems.
GM: "I listen and then I press 1 and then I don't know what happens."
I can just imagine... did I mention that GM is 99% deaf? She gives me the name of Her Doctor (a phrase we can use loosely here considering that she has seen him face-to-face ONCE... did I mention that GM also has a serious doctor phobia?). This physician has changed practices since she saw him... but, no biggie, right? (HA!)
me: What phone number have you been calling?
GM: "Um, I don't know... I can't seem to find it here, but that doesn't matter. It wasn't working anyway."
Uh-huh. Family Health Expert to the rescue.
I get through to the office without difficulty. However, it is now 12:32 pm and their lunch break started at 12:30. Perfect.
I call back at 1:30, and, after a brief explanation to the phone nurse, I'm given the phone number to Her Doctor's New Office. Okay.
Call to New Office.
Repeat brief explanation of situation.
Phone nurse: "We'll need to get GM's records transferred here and have her sign a release. Would she like to do that today?"
me: Ummm, considering that GM lives more than half an hour from your office and has a doctor phobia... no. (in so many words)
Call to Old Office.
me: Could you please fax pertinent records to New Office and GM will sign a release when able?
Thank goodness the answer was yes.
Call to New Office.
Phone nurse: "Oh look, we found GM's records. They were here all along because she signed a release when we switched practices. However, GM has never been here and Her Doctor is out of the office this week. We'll need to see GM."
me: Ummm, no. (insert brief repeat explanation of GM's doctor phobia and fact that she lives more than half an hour from New Office.) Can we please have her leave a urine sample at the hospital lab here in town?
Phone nurse: (and really, she was very accomodating, all things considered) "Let me check with Her Doctor's New Partner."
Apparently, Her Doctor's New Partner does not have priveleges at the hospital here in town, so one way or another GM would have to drive to the next town up in order to get any help from New Office. ARGH. (That last part was unspoken, but definitely heartfelt.)
Next step, half hour conversation with GM regarding whether or not to stay with Her Doctor and drive to New Office out of town, or switch to someone else at Old Office here in town. After much hemming and hawing (I'm talking MUCH here... due to GM's hearing difficulties, I must repeat virtually every sentence at least once), GM decides to switch to someone else at Old Office. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.
Call to Old Office.
me: Hi, it's me again. GM would like to switch back to your practice (I can almost see Phone nurse rolling her eyes at this point)... would it be possible for her to leave a urine sample at the hospital here in town so that she can have an antibiotic called in if necessary?
Phone nurse: "Yes, but you see, we no longer have GM's records, so she'll need to sign a release and have them transferred back from New Office."
me: (muttering under my breath for a moment...) Okay.
Call to New Office. (by this time I'm not even sure who's who... I'm just glad they're still willing to take my calls.)
me: Hi, it's me again. GM decided to seek advice at Old Office. Could you please fax pertinent records there?
Again, the answer was yes. Sigh of relief.
Next step, explain to GM that we still need a urine sample. If she drives to my house, I will take her to the hospital lab where she can give one. No problem.
I proceed to wait for another half an hour or so, expecting GM to show up at my house. At this point, she calls me.
GM: "Well, I got about halfway to your house and it got really foggy. I started thinking about how long I'm going to have to sit in that doctor's office, and I really can't be driving home in the dark. So, I turned around and came home. I think I'll just wait it out. After all, it's not really that bad."
me: (pause for silent scream) GM, I really think you should do this. I'll come and get you. And you won't have to sit in the office. We're just going to go in so you can pee in a cup (at this point, I really did use the words "pee in a cup" with my Grandmother... yikes.).
GM: No.
Call to Old Office.
me: Yeah, it's me AGAIN. I'm very sorry. You're not going to believe this, but GM does not want to come in today. She agreed to call or come if anything gets worse. You see, she's got this doctor phobia...
Phone nurse: You know, I think I remember GM.
me: I bet you do.
End of story, right? Wrong.
Over the course of that evening and the next morning, there were a few intervening phone calls from GM, reassuring me that she's feeling just fine and thinks that her discomfort will probably go away if she keeps up with the water and cranberry juice, also informing me that "if it gets really bad in the middle of the night, I'll just call 911." She said it so matter-of-factly that I really thought she was kidding. Not so. And I'm fairly certain that I did not dissuade her from that plan, despite my attempts to make her promise to call me if anything were to happen during the night. ("Oh, I wouldn't want to wake you up!" Little does she know, I'll probably lie awake anyway, wondering if the fire department is being summoned to the home of a little 88-year old woman with a UTI.)
So, next morning... not half an hour after calling to inform me again that she's feeling just fine and she'll call me if anything changes, she calls back and says that she was talking to a friend who informed her that the weather is supposed to be nasty for the next few days, and perhaps she should just give the sample and get it over with before she can't get through on the roads.
me: (gasp of disbelief and slap to forehead...) Well, sure. (thinking, Why didn't I think of something like that?!)
After all that fuss, GM came to my house and we went to the hospital lab and she gave the sample.
End of story.
For now.
Thanks to Dr. Dinosaur and the link to him at Grand Rounds for a little inspiration this week. :)
I should know. I have spent the last day and a half proving the point.
It seemed simple enough at the start. Grandmother (GM) calls me and says she thinks she has a bladder infection and has been trying to reach her physician to call in an antibiotic prescription (I know, eyebrows raised) but just can't seem to get the phone call to go through. Little did we know, making the connection would be the least of our problems.
GM: "I listen and then I press 1 and then I don't know what happens."
I can just imagine... did I mention that GM is 99% deaf? She gives me the name of Her Doctor (a phrase we can use loosely here considering that she has seen him face-to-face ONCE... did I mention that GM also has a serious doctor phobia?). This physician has changed practices since she saw him... but, no biggie, right? (HA!)
me: What phone number have you been calling?
GM: "Um, I don't know... I can't seem to find it here, but that doesn't matter. It wasn't working anyway."
Uh-huh. Family Health Expert to the rescue.
I get through to the office without difficulty. However, it is now 12:32 pm and their lunch break started at 12:30. Perfect.
I call back at 1:30, and, after a brief explanation to the phone nurse, I'm given the phone number to Her Doctor's New Office. Okay.
Call to New Office.
Repeat brief explanation of situation.
Phone nurse: "We'll need to get GM's records transferred here and have her sign a release. Would she like to do that today?"
me: Ummm, considering that GM lives more than half an hour from your office and has a doctor phobia... no. (in so many words)
Call to Old Office.
me: Could you please fax pertinent records to New Office and GM will sign a release when able?
Thank goodness the answer was yes.
Call to New Office.
Phone nurse: "Oh look, we found GM's records. They were here all along because she signed a release when we switched practices. However, GM has never been here and Her Doctor is out of the office this week. We'll need to see GM."
me: Ummm, no. (insert brief repeat explanation of GM's doctor phobia and fact that she lives more than half an hour from New Office.) Can we please have her leave a urine sample at the hospital lab here in town?
Phone nurse: (and really, she was very accomodating, all things considered) "Let me check with Her Doctor's New Partner."
Apparently, Her Doctor's New Partner does not have priveleges at the hospital here in town, so one way or another GM would have to drive to the next town up in order to get any help from New Office. ARGH. (That last part was unspoken, but definitely heartfelt.)
Next step, half hour conversation with GM regarding whether or not to stay with Her Doctor and drive to New Office out of town, or switch to someone else at Old Office here in town. After much hemming and hawing (I'm talking MUCH here... due to GM's hearing difficulties, I must repeat virtually every sentence at least once), GM decides to switch to someone else at Old Office. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.
Call to Old Office.
me: Hi, it's me again. GM would like to switch back to your practice (I can almost see Phone nurse rolling her eyes at this point)... would it be possible for her to leave a urine sample at the hospital here in town so that she can have an antibiotic called in if necessary?
Phone nurse: "Yes, but you see, we no longer have GM's records, so she'll need to sign a release and have them transferred back from New Office."
me: (muttering under my breath for a moment...) Okay.
Call to New Office. (by this time I'm not even sure who's who... I'm just glad they're still willing to take my calls.)
me: Hi, it's me again. GM decided to seek advice at Old Office. Could you please fax pertinent records there?
Again, the answer was yes. Sigh of relief.
Next step, explain to GM that we still need a urine sample. If she drives to my house, I will take her to the hospital lab where she can give one. No problem.
I proceed to wait for another half an hour or so, expecting GM to show up at my house. At this point, she calls me.
GM: "Well, I got about halfway to your house and it got really foggy. I started thinking about how long I'm going to have to sit in that doctor's office, and I really can't be driving home in the dark. So, I turned around and came home. I think I'll just wait it out. After all, it's not really that bad."
me: (pause for silent scream) GM, I really think you should do this. I'll come and get you. And you won't have to sit in the office. We're just going to go in so you can pee in a cup (at this point, I really did use the words "pee in a cup" with my Grandmother... yikes.).
GM: No.
Call to Old Office.
me: Yeah, it's me AGAIN. I'm very sorry. You're not going to believe this, but GM does not want to come in today. She agreed to call or come if anything gets worse. You see, she's got this doctor phobia...
Phone nurse: You know, I think I remember GM.
me: I bet you do.
End of story, right? Wrong.
Over the course of that evening and the next morning, there were a few intervening phone calls from GM, reassuring me that she's feeling just fine and thinks that her discomfort will probably go away if she keeps up with the water and cranberry juice, also informing me that "if it gets really bad in the middle of the night, I'll just call 911." She said it so matter-of-factly that I really thought she was kidding. Not so. And I'm fairly certain that I did not dissuade her from that plan, despite my attempts to make her promise to call me if anything were to happen during the night. ("Oh, I wouldn't want to wake you up!" Little does she know, I'll probably lie awake anyway, wondering if the fire department is being summoned to the home of a little 88-year old woman with a UTI.)
So, next morning... not half an hour after calling to inform me again that she's feeling just fine and she'll call me if anything changes, she calls back and says that she was talking to a friend who informed her that the weather is supposed to be nasty for the next few days, and perhaps she should just give the sample and get it over with before she can't get through on the roads.
me: (gasp of disbelief and slap to forehead...) Well, sure. (thinking, Why didn't I think of something like that?!)
After all that fuss, GM came to my house and we went to the hospital lab and she gave the sample.
End of story.
For now.
Thanks to Dr. Dinosaur and the link to him at Grand Rounds for a little inspiration this week. :)
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Ewwwwww!
This RN's definition of "gross".
We each have our own niche, our own interests... our own comfort zone. For registered nurses, the sight of blood and body fluids, parts and procedures is typically less gruesome than it may be for the lay population (I hope). However, even within the nursing universe, that which turns our stomachs and leaves us feeling green can vary widely.
For instance, I'm comfortable with vaginas. (I'll spare you the visual aid here... I said I was comfortable with them. Doesn't mean I think they're worth looking at.) I have no qualms about saying that. And it's a good thing, for obvious reasons. In obstetric nursing, and particularly in labor & delivery, the vagina is simply a means to an end. A few of my friends from nursing school have said, "How can you handle that, down there?" Even patients are occasionally embarassed about nursing care they receive, such as the intimate care that we may have to assist with in the bathroom after delivery. I've had more than one patient comment, "You must really hate this part of your job." It's difficult for me to explain and probably even harder for them to understand, but those things just don't bother me.
However, there are some things that do.
I think eyes are YUCK. Not to look at from across the room. Not to gaze into on the countenance of your loved one. To examine, to touch and to fix. I'm fortunate enough to have good vision and have therefore never needed glasses or contacts. Thank goodness, because I'm pretty sure regular eye exams would kill me. As luck would have it, one night at work, we were discussing the benefits of laser eye surgery and I mentioned my eye phobia (it went something like, "Argh! Stop talking about that! Eyes are so gross!"). No joke, a few hours later I somehow managed to flick a piece of plastic into my eye. After trying desperately for half an hour to stop blinking and tearing like a faucet, my coworkers convinced me to go downstairs and have it checked out. An hour later, you would think I'd been purposely sent to the ED for a course of torture... first the numbing drops, shine a bright light in my eye, wait for the numbing drops to work, put orange liquid in my eye, shine an ultraviolet light in my eye while my head is being held still with a big metal contraption, wait for the attending, shine the ultraviolet thingy again and both come up with the brilliant conclusion that "That's a BIG corneal abrasion. It must hurt!" Thanks. And YUCK. Just gimme my Vicodin and erythromycin, and I'll blink my way back up to OB.
Not much further to the south is the mouth. I give dental hygeniests all the credit here... just as I'm often the one who gets to push for three hours with a patient so that the physician can come in with a catcher's mitt and look like the hero, the hygeniest is the one who gets to do all the picking and plucking, rinsing and buffing so that the dentist can take a peek in there at the end of the appointment and declare the state of tooth health or decay. Blech! I can't imagine what it's like when they get a really nasty mouth. And I've seen them... fortunately from a safe distance!
Somewhere around the middle is the belly button. Now, I realize that this one is totally irrational. Be that as it may, I have a total phobia about belly buttons... my own in particular, and those of others as well. I have good reason for appreciating it's functionality for babies in utero and once born. However, the fact that there's still a hole there... ugh. Anyone who's had to prep an abdomen for surgery and used the big ol' Q-tips specifically made for "cleaning out" that particular little breeding ground can perhaps appreciate that it really makes me want to gag just thinking about it! What else have you got hiding in there?
And finally, at the bottom, feet. Double-YUCK! One of the residents felt the need to elaborate on his athlete's foot problem the other night, and I just about started gagging right there at the desk. Thanks for sharing! Check out the Foot Blog for more gory details. I give foot docs a lot of credit for "going there". Ew! I prefer to ensconce my feet safely in their Dansko clogs and not think about what might be going on in that warm, little night club between my toes.
There you have it. My definition of gross. Totally irrelevant to nursing practice or theory. I guess we can file this one under "amusement." (See my first post.)
It's important to know yourself and what you can (and can't) handle. Anyone care to add to or elaborate on the topic? What is your definition of gross?
We each have our own niche, our own interests... our own comfort zone. For registered nurses, the sight of blood and body fluids, parts and procedures is typically less gruesome than it may be for the lay population (I hope). However, even within the nursing universe, that which turns our stomachs and leaves us feeling green can vary widely.
For instance, I'm comfortable with vaginas. (I'll spare you the visual aid here... I said I was comfortable with them. Doesn't mean I think they're worth looking at.) I have no qualms about saying that. And it's a good thing, for obvious reasons. In obstetric nursing, and particularly in labor & delivery, the vagina is simply a means to an end. A few of my friends from nursing school have said, "How can you handle that, down there?" Even patients are occasionally embarassed about nursing care they receive, such as the intimate care that we may have to assist with in the bathroom after delivery. I've had more than one patient comment, "You must really hate this part of your job." It's difficult for me to explain and probably even harder for them to understand, but those things just don't bother me.
However, there are some things that do.
I think eyes are YUCK. Not to look at from across the room. Not to gaze into on the countenance of your loved one. To examine, to touch and to fix. I'm fortunate enough to have good vision and have therefore never needed glasses or contacts. Thank goodness, because I'm pretty sure regular eye exams would kill me. As luck would have it, one night at work, we were discussing the benefits of laser eye surgery and I mentioned my eye phobia (it went something like, "Argh! Stop talking about that! Eyes are so gross!"). No joke, a few hours later I somehow managed to flick a piece of plastic into my eye. After trying desperately for half an hour to stop blinking and tearing like a faucet, my coworkers convinced me to go downstairs and have it checked out. An hour later, you would think I'd been purposely sent to the ED for a course of torture... first the numbing drops, shine a bright light in my eye, wait for the numbing drops to work, put orange liquid in my eye, shine an ultraviolet light in my eye while my head is being held still with a big metal contraption, wait for the attending, shine the ultraviolet thingy again and both come up with the brilliant conclusion that "That's a BIG corneal abrasion. It must hurt!" Thanks. And YUCK. Just gimme my Vicodin and erythromycin, and I'll blink my way back up to OB.
Not much further to the south is the mouth. I give dental hygeniests all the credit here... just as I'm often the one who gets to push for three hours with a patient so that the physician can come in with a catcher's mitt and look like the hero, the hygeniest is the one who gets to do all the picking and plucking, rinsing and buffing so that the dentist can take a peek in there at the end of the appointment and declare the state of tooth health or decay. Blech! I can't imagine what it's like when they get a really nasty mouth. And I've seen them... fortunately from a safe distance!
Somewhere around the middle is the belly button. Now, I realize that this one is totally irrational. Be that as it may, I have a total phobia about belly buttons... my own in particular, and those of others as well. I have good reason for appreciating it's functionality for babies in utero and once born. However, the fact that there's still a hole there... ugh. Anyone who's had to prep an abdomen for surgery and used the big ol' Q-tips specifically made for "cleaning out" that particular little breeding ground can perhaps appreciate that it really makes me want to gag just thinking about it! What else have you got hiding in there?
And finally, at the bottom, feet. Double-YUCK! One of the residents felt the need to elaborate on his athlete's foot problem the other night, and I just about started gagging right there at the desk. Thanks for sharing! Check out the Foot Blog for more gory details. I give foot docs a lot of credit for "going there". Ew! I prefer to ensconce my feet safely in their Dansko clogs and not think about what might be going on in that warm, little night club between my toes.
There you have it. My definition of gross. Totally irrelevant to nursing practice or theory. I guess we can file this one under "amusement." (See my first post.)
It's important to know yourself and what you can (and can't) handle. Anyone care to add to or elaborate on the topic? What is your definition of gross?
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