I'm sitting here with a glass of wine after trying to calm my thoughts enough to fall asleep. Eventually I realized there was too much on my mind and gave up...so I'm typing out my thoughts as they tumble out. Another 12 hour shift in the ER. I love it as much as I did last week, if not more. It's challenging, and I'm learning something new every day. I am a "newbie". I may have been a nurse longer than some of the other nurses, but this is different world. I feel silly asking some of my questions, but I'd rather appear silly than be the one to make a fatal mistake. I've never hung IV fluids without a pump. What do you mean I can just let it hang and it'll infuse? I don't have to worry about the air? I don't say these out loud, but the other nurses understand where I'm coming from and are quick to answer my unspoken questions.
I like helping people, and making them feel better. I like watching the kids bounce down the hall, headed towards the Exit, feeling better now with whatever we did for them. My biggest fear is that I will become one of those jaded ER nurses that doesn't care...just going through the motions.
It seemed like there was a lot of tragedy in the ER today; people falling, coming in unresponsive, crying family members spilling into the halls, consoling each other. It's morbid, but each time I can't help but wonder, when is it my turn? Why haven't I lost anyone close to me? The only experience I really have with death of a loved one is my cat, when I was seven. Losing a parent, a spouse, or God forbid, a child...I can't really imagine. So I just make a mental note to myself to not take those simple moments for granted. Crochet in the backyard. Football games on Sundays. Poker games on holidays. You really never know when tragedy is around the corner.
I had a patient who came in, drunk and in pain. He tried marijuana, and alcohol, and finally four ibuprofen but that darned pain from his recent SDH and back injury just wasn't going away. He had just been discharged from us a few days ago, to the homeless shelter. He admitted he was an alcoholic, and his sadness saddened me. I never felt judgmental; I just wished that he would realize he does have the power to make better choices for himself, to get some help for the drinking, and that he does have the power to turn his life around. He was weighing on my mind so heavily tonight, and I realize that I'm sitting here drinking wine, thinking about this guy with an alcohol problem, and it's ironic.
Ten year class reunion is coming up. I dreamed about it last night. Kinda like going through graduation again, only not knowing hardly anyone. At the party afterwards, and there's gigantic pie slices that are too big to eat and huge machines falling from the sky, squashing people who don't watch out. I made it one of my New Year's resolutions to go, and as apprehensive as I am, I guess I'll go. I hate feeling like I never really fit in, but if Nate is willing to go with me, why not. The whole thing just makes me feel old.
I am proud of where I'm at with my life. I'm married to a good guy, who takes care of my son and loves me. I have a job that I'm excited to go to in the morning. I think I'm doing okay.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Changes
I did some research online, found a great website, and in my excitement shared it with his daycare. Now I see why that wasn't such a bright idea; I think I frustrated her. I received an email back that they were giving us 2 weeks' notice. Completely blindsided me; per the contract I had to sign with them there was a whole process before getting to this point, but maybe this is for the best. Maybe Dillon needs a smaller setting, with more supervision. Nate describes the daycare as "chaos" and sometimes I wonder if the kids are being watched as closely as they should be. Nate and I toured a different daycare a few weeks ago, so maybe we should have seen this coming. Either way, it's no one's fault and everybody's fault. It is what it is, and all those trite sayings.
I'm surprised at how much this upsets me. I tossed and turned last night, after watching the first half of Breakfast at Tiffany's, trying to think about other things besides that email that created such a mixed bag of emotions for me: relief that there was finally a decision made; sorrow because I appreciated them and Dillon really seemed to like Bear, fear that I'm doing something wrong with Dillon as a parent, and not knowing what the future holds for his daycare while Nate and I work, and hope because maybe this is a sign that we really don't need to be paying for full time daycare when we only need 6-8 hours a week. There's really nothing I can do but say a prayer to God to show us the way and then to let it go.
Getting ready for PALS tomorrow. I'm afraid I'll fail and they'll wonder if they made the right choice, hiring me for the ER. I've been studying ECGs (pretty much teaching myself each one) and reading the PALS book cover to cover. Of which I still have 100+ pages left to go...I'll do my best and go from there.
Friday, January 11, 2013
The Hardest Part
The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck
“Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.” ~Anne Frank
I knew couples who’d been married almost forever – forty, fifty, sixty years.
Seventy-two, in one case. They’d be tending each other’s illnesses, filling
in each other’s faulty memories, dealing with the money troubles or the
daughter’s suicide, or the grandson’s drug addiction. And I was beginning
to suspect that it made no difference whether they’d married the right person.
Finally, you’re just with who you’re with. You’ve signed on with her, put in a half
century with her, grown to know her as well as you know yourself or even better,
and she’s become the right person. Or the only person, might be more to the point.
I wish someone had told me that earlier. I’d have hung on then; I swear I would.”
Anne Tyler, "A Patchwork Planet"
"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always
with the same person."
Mignon McLaughlin
I'm not advocating for loveless marriages. But it's also the case that marriage
doesn't make us happy every day. No marriage does, but your marriage serves
as so much more than just a vehicle for immediate individual adult needs. It makes
one world for your child, and children will tell you that means everything to them.
Elizabeth Marquardt, Between Two Worlds
A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on.
Carl Sandburg
Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.
Elizabeth Stone
“Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.” ~Anne Frank
I knew couples who’d been married almost forever – forty, fifty, sixty years.
Seventy-two, in one case. They’d be tending each other’s illnesses, filling
in each other’s faulty memories, dealing with the money troubles or the
daughter’s suicide, or the grandson’s drug addiction. And I was beginning
to suspect that it made no difference whether they’d married the right person.
Finally, you’re just with who you’re with. You’ve signed on with her, put in a half
century with her, grown to know her as well as you know yourself or even better,
and she’s become the right person. Or the only person, might be more to the point.
I wish someone had told me that earlier. I’d have hung on then; I swear I would.”
Anne Tyler, "A Patchwork Planet"
"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always
with the same person."
Mignon McLaughlin
I'm not advocating for loveless marriages. But it's also the case that marriage
doesn't make us happy every day. No marriage does, but your marriage serves
as so much more than just a vehicle for immediate individual adult needs. It makes
one world for your child, and children will tell you that means everything to them.
Elizabeth Marquardt, Between Two Worlds
A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on.
Carl Sandburg
Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.
Elizabeth Stone
Long time gone...
It's been so long since I've posted. I don't even really journal any more since I've been with Nate like I used to when I had so much time alone. There's a liberation in knowing this blog is private, and I don't have to worry about what people might think. I'm itching to write, to let go of some of these pent up emotions that have been lurking inside for so long. I feel a little lost...but I also feel like I'm being called to look deeper into my spiritual side.
So much has changed. Bought a house, a dog, adopted two cats, started working in a sub-acute rehab as an MDS nurse, worked there for a year and a half, and one night I'm sitting at work, it's late and Sue is still there in the office with me, but I feel compelled to put in an application for the ER and for L&D. I sincerely doubted anything would happen with it since I've applied in the past, and I'm not even ACLS certified, but I did it and sent if off to HR.
The next day I have a missed call from HR. Of course my voicemail isn't working but I call HR back and they want an interview for the ER position. I'm ecstatic and in disbelief. I go to work and dread telling Marci and Gaye. I tell Marci first, and she looks at me and doesn't say much. I wait a few days and then sit down and tell Gaye. She tells me exactly what she thinks, one of the things I love most about her. "We finally got everything the way you wanted it and now you're leaving." I tell her how much I appreciate her and everything she's done for me and Dillon, and that it has nothing to do with her. I'm just not cut out to be a desk nurse, wearing out the seat of my scrubs. She looks at me and then says, "I understand completely" and then tells me she knows I'll get the position.
I'm in the interview, and they ask me questions, then ask how I deal with difficult doctors. I tell them about Dr. Grams, everything I've learned by working with her and basically sometimes I just have to have a thick skin and realize their temperament doesn't necessarily have anything to do with me.
I get the position, starting in Minor care (soft 3's, 4's, and 5's) and hopefully will be able to advance into the ER once I'm ready (which won't be for a while!). I started last Tuesday. Twelve hour shifts passed by quickly, and the more I work and study the more I realize how much I have to learn. I start two IVs effortlessly my second day, and then miss one on a 30-something dialysis patient in the main ER (floating with my preceptor to help them out while we were slow) and miss an AC lab draw. I watch the lab tech do it so effortlessly (pretty much made it look like he was sliding the needle into butter and got flash immediately). I follow him out of the room and tell him he just put me to shame (with a smile) and beg him to teach me his secrets. He smiles back and gives me some pointers.
My preceptor is young but amazing to work with and smart. She doesn't talk a whole lot about herself, but is fun to be around. After our final shift last night we walk out and she asks me what she could do more, what would help, etc. I told her I feel like she could yell more. She laughs and I like her that much more because she gets my sense of humor.
The nurse practitioners change and it's challenging to get their quirks down. They're both down to earth and willing to teach and I like that I can approach them without getting yelled at instantly.
The patients come in, the revolving door of the ER. Flu season is upon us, and we see a lot of pediatric patients. We have a little boy with a raging ear infection who seems to be older than his age (5 going on 25) and tells me he gets his flu shot every year. I give him ear drops and cotton balls and he looks at me and tells me, "You're a good nurse". This makes my week and I know that I'm where I'm supposed to be.
I float over to the ER with Chris for a bit and while I love the chaos and they're so incredibly busy and short and I'll be honest and admit I was overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. We help triage a pt brought in by ambulance who slipped and fell on the ice, now with a fractured ankle. I learn to always put on gloves when removing pants as she was incontinent. Gross...
We get drug seekers but no one really rude yet. Our providers really don't give out narcs for anything...just recommend Motrin and Tylenol. One 20-something fractured his clavicle in a snowboarding accident and he actually got a script for Lortab, but that was pretty much it.
I'm trying to get the charting system down, and getting there slowly. I realize I'll have to do things differently then my preceptor, and start using a blank piece of printer paper folded in fourths. Whenever I do anything, I put the time, room number, and pt initials, along with whatever I need to chart. Put in an order for x-ray, I write it down; give a med, I write it down. Then I highlight it when I chart it.
I've given so many IM Toradol and Phenergan shots. Still trying to figure out the dorsogluteal vs. ventrogluteal thing.
I experienced my first patient(s) that had media involved with their situations. They were fine, but reading the news on my iPhone local news app makes me realize sometimes the news blows things out of proportion.
I have a patient who is in a Fed Ex truck accident and treat him. Then I see his truck on my husband's Facebook. Friend of a friend. Only in Montana.
I go to sleep and I dream of work. I feel a little guilty, missing time with Nate and Dillon. As Nate puts it, we're passing each other in the sheets. I come home at 1am, he's up and gone by 6am. Dillon is talking more and more, and the animals continue to drive me up the wall. The dog is so hyper and stubborn (whose idea was it to get a lab puppy, seriously?).
Taking it one day at a time, looking forward to learning and growing. Trying to ignore the doubt that springs up in the back of my mind at times. The what ifs and fear of making a mistake and being a failure; of not being able to "cut it". One thing at a time.
So much has changed. Bought a house, a dog, adopted two cats, started working in a sub-acute rehab as an MDS nurse, worked there for a year and a half, and one night I'm sitting at work, it's late and Sue is still there in the office with me, but I feel compelled to put in an application for the ER and for L&D. I sincerely doubted anything would happen with it since I've applied in the past, and I'm not even ACLS certified, but I did it and sent if off to HR.
The next day I have a missed call from HR. Of course my voicemail isn't working but I call HR back and they want an interview for the ER position. I'm ecstatic and in disbelief. I go to work and dread telling Marci and Gaye. I tell Marci first, and she looks at me and doesn't say much. I wait a few days and then sit down and tell Gaye. She tells me exactly what she thinks, one of the things I love most about her. "We finally got everything the way you wanted it and now you're leaving." I tell her how much I appreciate her and everything she's done for me and Dillon, and that it has nothing to do with her. I'm just not cut out to be a desk nurse, wearing out the seat of my scrubs. She looks at me and then says, "I understand completely" and then tells me she knows I'll get the position.
I'm in the interview, and they ask me questions, then ask how I deal with difficult doctors. I tell them about Dr. Grams, everything I've learned by working with her and basically sometimes I just have to have a thick skin and realize their temperament doesn't necessarily have anything to do with me.
I get the position, starting in Minor care (soft 3's, 4's, and 5's) and hopefully will be able to advance into the ER once I'm ready (which won't be for a while!). I started last Tuesday. Twelve hour shifts passed by quickly, and the more I work and study the more I realize how much I have to learn. I start two IVs effortlessly my second day, and then miss one on a 30-something dialysis patient in the main ER (floating with my preceptor to help them out while we were slow) and miss an AC lab draw. I watch the lab tech do it so effortlessly (pretty much made it look like he was sliding the needle into butter and got flash immediately). I follow him out of the room and tell him he just put me to shame (with a smile) and beg him to teach me his secrets. He smiles back and gives me some pointers.
My preceptor is young but amazing to work with and smart. She doesn't talk a whole lot about herself, but is fun to be around. After our final shift last night we walk out and she asks me what she could do more, what would help, etc. I told her I feel like she could yell more. She laughs and I like her that much more because she gets my sense of humor.
The nurse practitioners change and it's challenging to get their quirks down. They're both down to earth and willing to teach and I like that I can approach them without getting yelled at instantly.
The patients come in, the revolving door of the ER. Flu season is upon us, and we see a lot of pediatric patients. We have a little boy with a raging ear infection who seems to be older than his age (5 going on 25) and tells me he gets his flu shot every year. I give him ear drops and cotton balls and he looks at me and tells me, "You're a good nurse". This makes my week and I know that I'm where I'm supposed to be.
I float over to the ER with Chris for a bit and while I love the chaos and they're so incredibly busy and short and I'll be honest and admit I was overwhelmed, but not in a bad way. We help triage a pt brought in by ambulance who slipped and fell on the ice, now with a fractured ankle. I learn to always put on gloves when removing pants as she was incontinent. Gross...
We get drug seekers but no one really rude yet. Our providers really don't give out narcs for anything...just recommend Motrin and Tylenol. One 20-something fractured his clavicle in a snowboarding accident and he actually got a script for Lortab, but that was pretty much it.
I'm trying to get the charting system down, and getting there slowly. I realize I'll have to do things differently then my preceptor, and start using a blank piece of printer paper folded in fourths. Whenever I do anything, I put the time, room number, and pt initials, along with whatever I need to chart. Put in an order for x-ray, I write it down; give a med, I write it down. Then I highlight it when I chart it.
I've given so many IM Toradol and Phenergan shots. Still trying to figure out the dorsogluteal vs. ventrogluteal thing.
I experienced my first patient(s) that had media involved with their situations. They were fine, but reading the news on my iPhone local news app makes me realize sometimes the news blows things out of proportion.
I have a patient who is in a Fed Ex truck accident and treat him. Then I see his truck on my husband's Facebook. Friend of a friend. Only in Montana.
I go to sleep and I dream of work. I feel a little guilty, missing time with Nate and Dillon. As Nate puts it, we're passing each other in the sheets. I come home at 1am, he's up and gone by 6am. Dillon is talking more and more, and the animals continue to drive me up the wall. The dog is so hyper and stubborn (whose idea was it to get a lab puppy, seriously?).
Taking it one day at a time, looking forward to learning and growing. Trying to ignore the doubt that springs up in the back of my mind at times. The what ifs and fear of making a mistake and being a failure; of not being able to "cut it". One thing at a time.
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