(no subject)
I enjoy living by myself sometimes (half of the time, it's lonely), but there are some serious downsides. Most notable one at the moment is not being able to go to the bathroom. Last night I watched I am Legend with Will Smith by myself in the dark. Shit, man. I can't watch anything remotely scary, and I didn't think this movie was suppose to be scary (many, many would argue that it's not). But there are these alien lookin' freakish creatures that are human beings who turned pale, transparent, hairless, and rabid. They can only live in dark places. One part of the movie Will's dog runs into this empty warehouse, and Will has to go chase after him even though he knows what's hibernating there. Shit. Maybe I shouldn't talk about this, cuz it's sustaining those images.
Anyways, the light on his gun shines across a dark room for a split second, and it's those Hemocytes (those human creatures) all huddled into a room with their backs turned to him. They're kinda swaying, and there's a dripping noise. And they're all hairless and pale as can be.
ANYWAYS, yes. I need to go to the bathroom, and there's a bedroom between the bathroom and the living room which i'm currently in. BUT there's no light in the bedroom i can turn on. So the bedroom is dark, and the closet in the bedroom on the left before the bathroom is even darker. Dark ... just like that room with the Hemocytes. Jesus. AHHH!!!
I need to pee. Damnit.
My foot just brushed across an outlet and made a noise and i jumped. Hm.
So my RN license just posted on the GA board of nursing website last week, so i started to work on my own this last week. I don't have complete access to the pyxis (which is the machine that holds all the narcotics) nor am i able to chart on the puter, but i can do other things.
Anyways, Sunday nite I was given two patients for my own. Yeah. One was this lesbian chick who I worked with before. She was fairly easy. Then i had this older man. I was told he was a little confused because of this anti-nausea medication he was given the other day.
I was taught that confused patients become more confused at night. Shit, no shit. I spent so much of my time in that dood's room. Around like 10-11pm he wasn't too bad, but then as the night progressed homeboy was hallucinating and talkin' crazy. He would not sleep either. His wife was there with him, and she couldn't sleep either cuz she was trying to calm him down and make sure he didn't hurt himself.
He kept trying to get up. He said he wanted to wash up and put his clothes on. It was 3am when he said this. I would tell him the time, and he would look confused, then ask me incoherent questions.
He asked me if i was going to do anything about a spiderweb hanging above the door. There was no spider web.
He kept messing with his blankets, and asked me if I was going to put out the fire on his bed. When his wife and i told him there was no fire, he looked at me like I was crazy.
Another time, he asked me if i just saw that 10 dollar bill walking across his bed.
Those were just some of the things.
I felt so incompetent. My preceptor talked to the doctor, and he said to reduce the pain medication he was getting (he had this thing called a pca [patient controlled analgesia] that's a machine, and the patient's allowed to press the button every few minutes to deliver themselves a set dose of pain medication, usu morphine or something similar). But we couldn't take him completely off it otherwise he'd be in a helluva lot of pain.
You can't use logic with confused patients. It defintely didn't work with him. And you're not suppose to give drugs to knock a patient out unless they're trying to harm themselves or others, and u only use that as a last resort.
There was no point in talking to him. I would be in his room for a long time each time i went in there trying to answer his crazy questions.
I just felt... bad. His wife looked so tired and concerned.
I felt like i was doing a bad job, and the wife looked almost relieved to see the morning nurse at shift change.
uh, there's more to write but i feel like not writing.
Anyways, the light on his gun shines across a dark room for a split second, and it's those Hemocytes (those human creatures) all huddled into a room with their backs turned to him. They're kinda swaying, and there's a dripping noise. And they're all hairless and pale as can be.
ANYWAYS, yes. I need to go to the bathroom, and there's a bedroom between the bathroom and the living room which i'm currently in. BUT there's no light in the bedroom i can turn on. So the bedroom is dark, and the closet in the bedroom on the left before the bathroom is even darker. Dark ... just like that room with the Hemocytes. Jesus. AHHH!!!
I need to pee. Damnit.
My foot just brushed across an outlet and made a noise and i jumped. Hm.
So my RN license just posted on the GA board of nursing website last week, so i started to work on my own this last week. I don't have complete access to the pyxis (which is the machine that holds all the narcotics) nor am i able to chart on the puter, but i can do other things.
Anyways, Sunday nite I was given two patients for my own. Yeah. One was this lesbian chick who I worked with before. She was fairly easy. Then i had this older man. I was told he was a little confused because of this anti-nausea medication he was given the other day.
I was taught that confused patients become more confused at night. Shit, no shit. I spent so much of my time in that dood's room. Around like 10-11pm he wasn't too bad, but then as the night progressed homeboy was hallucinating and talkin' crazy. He would not sleep either. His wife was there with him, and she couldn't sleep either cuz she was trying to calm him down and make sure he didn't hurt himself.
He kept trying to get up. He said he wanted to wash up and put his clothes on. It was 3am when he said this. I would tell him the time, and he would look confused, then ask me incoherent questions.
He asked me if i was going to do anything about a spiderweb hanging above the door. There was no spider web.
He kept messing with his blankets, and asked me if I was going to put out the fire on his bed. When his wife and i told him there was no fire, he looked at me like I was crazy.
Another time, he asked me if i just saw that 10 dollar bill walking across his bed.
Those were just some of the things.
I felt so incompetent. My preceptor talked to the doctor, and he said to reduce the pain medication he was getting (he had this thing called a pca [patient controlled analgesia] that's a machine, and the patient's allowed to press the button every few minutes to deliver themselves a set dose of pain medication, usu morphine or something similar). But we couldn't take him completely off it otherwise he'd be in a helluva lot of pain.
You can't use logic with confused patients. It defintely didn't work with him. And you're not suppose to give drugs to knock a patient out unless they're trying to harm themselves or others, and u only use that as a last resort.
There was no point in talking to him. I would be in his room for a long time each time i went in there trying to answer his crazy questions.
I just felt... bad. His wife looked so tired and concerned.
I felt like i was doing a bad job, and the wife looked almost relieved to see the morning nurse at shift change.
uh, there's more to write but i feel like not writing.