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!

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.

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.

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.

Why do we do what we do?

Do you ever feel like a glorified waitress?
I sometimes ponder why we put up with all the baloney. (I'm being diplomatic and politically correct here, in an attempt not to offend those who don't yet know me well enough. Please substitute the actual term I'd like to use in place of "baloney"... use your imagination.)

And does the baloney outweigh the reward?

Would it make a difference if it did?

Men and women enter nursing careers with astoundingly different perspectives and motivations. Certainly, there are enough different nursing fields and forms of practice to satisfy our diverse expectations, but why do we so often "stick it out" in challenging and mediocre work environments?

Honestly, I don't have a global answer for that one and would not presume to venture a guess.

More about the baloney later, I'm sure, but here are a few of the reasons I continue to show up for my shifts (occasionally with bells on):

1. I have to admit, it feeds my family.

2. Most of my co-workers are admirable (if often inexperienced... yes, I do work nights), and we've worked together through those nights from hell, laughed at each others' nutty 5am slap-happy stories, smiled and cried with each other over the joys and tragedies in our personal lives, and managed to keep the unit from completely falling apart at any point to date.

3. The sense of pride and accomplishment when new nurses look to me for help and mentorship... then over time transform into "experienced" nurses themselves.

4. There's nothing quite like the adrenaline rush of a scary or fast delivery. There are those of you who know, it is indescribable.

5. The absolutely unforgettable moments I've spent with close friends who've asked me to be present at the birth of their children, which brings me to perhaps the overwhelming reason I stay:

6. (pause while I sit here and struggle to begin...) I'm having difficulty putting this one into words, but I want to convey my understanding and acceptance of the fact that what I do (help bring babies into the world) is utterly miraculous. I am present at those moments in a family's life that bring both the most anticipated and the most unexpected joy. I also stand by as families experience the most heartbreaking and unspeakable grief. To witness these pivotal moments is both a privelege and a burden, but is definitely one of the most influential factors in my faithful return to the unit, week after week, year after year.

I'll close on that note. There are perhaps innumerable other reasons to "stick it out". Sometimes, it feels as though they are not enough.