(no subject)
Now that everything has quieted and I'm officially on vacation, I can tell you about last Tuesday.
At 7a.m. I was at clinical and ready to work. We got our assignments for the day late, and when Mrs. Rudolph gave me mine, she pulled me aside and told me that my patient, Mr. Porter, was actively dying, and asked if I was okay with that. I assured her that I was willing and able to take care of him, and I got some fresh towels and linens and went to say good morning to him. He was terribly thin, on six liters of oxygen(which is a lot), and his oxygen saturation was around 75(you want it between 90-100, 90 being a bit low). He didn't talk to me, I don't know if it was because he couldn't or had just given up. He was a maaaajor mouth breather, and it looked like nobody had done mouth care on him in months. His mouth was all dry and scabby, so I did a lot of work to clean it up for him, it looked so uncomfortable.
I talked to him while I gave him a bed bath, making sure to check his pulse every so often. After I cleaned the front of him, I rubbed his head and massaged his hands and feet for a few minutes. I checked his pulse, and told him I would be right back, and he gave a little nod, then looked up and sighed. I patted his hand and took his pulse real quick, then started making my way into the hall to grab someone to help me roll him over so I could wash his back. I got as far as the door when one of the LNA's popped her head in and asked me if I was in there alone and if I was okay. I told her yes, I just needed some help rolling him. She looked over my shoulder and said, "Uh, is he done?" "No," I said, "I just took his pulse." She looked at me and gently said, "Yeah... He's done."
Mrs. Rudolph, the LNA, and head nurse all came in to check that he was dead, which he was. It was so strange. You always hear people say, "Oh, but I saw him just last week!" I was talking to him - he nodded at me - two seconds ago. I helped with the post mortem care, and asked if it would be alright if I met his family. His wife was sweet as pie, as was his son. I found out later that Mr. Porter had been asking all week to die. It wasn't hard for me to see him go, but it was hard to see his family, even though you could tell they were expecting it. I also asked if I could see what the funeral home guy does when he came in to get Mr. Porter.
I've heard countless times that things are just different when you see someone die, but I never really understood. It's true, though. And there's no other way to explain it. It's not sad, or depressing, or angry, just different. Not in a bad way at all.
The next day we had our clinical evaluations, and Mrs. Rudolph said that I constantly surprise her. She said that she's never had a student, in their first semester no less, ask if they could meet their dead patient's family or funeral home guy. She said usually post mortem care is hard enough. She's never had a student want to be involved all the way to the end, and was very impressed with me. On top of that, she said, I gave someone a shot not long after - a shot that none of the other students wanted to do. She said she really enjoyed my "PICK ME! PICK ME!" attitude, and appreciated that I'm always looking to learn something.
So yeah, this semester was challenging, but incredible, and what a climactic ending! I really feel, for the first time ever, that I'm doing what I was meant to be doing, and it's an amazing feeling.
At 7a.m. I was at clinical and ready to work. We got our assignments for the day late, and when Mrs. Rudolph gave me mine, she pulled me aside and told me that my patient, Mr. Porter, was actively dying, and asked if I was okay with that. I assured her that I was willing and able to take care of him, and I got some fresh towels and linens and went to say good morning to him. He was terribly thin, on six liters of oxygen(which is a lot), and his oxygen saturation was around 75(you want it between 90-100, 90 being a bit low). He didn't talk to me, I don't know if it was because he couldn't or had just given up. He was a maaaajor mouth breather, and it looked like nobody had done mouth care on him in months. His mouth was all dry and scabby, so I did a lot of work to clean it up for him, it looked so uncomfortable.
I talked to him while I gave him a bed bath, making sure to check his pulse every so often. After I cleaned the front of him, I rubbed his head and massaged his hands and feet for a few minutes. I checked his pulse, and told him I would be right back, and he gave a little nod, then looked up and sighed. I patted his hand and took his pulse real quick, then started making my way into the hall to grab someone to help me roll him over so I could wash his back. I got as far as the door when one of the LNA's popped her head in and asked me if I was in there alone and if I was okay. I told her yes, I just needed some help rolling him. She looked over my shoulder and said, "Uh, is he done?" "No," I said, "I just took his pulse." She looked at me and gently said, "Yeah... He's done."
Mrs. Rudolph, the LNA, and head nurse all came in to check that he was dead, which he was. It was so strange. You always hear people say, "Oh, but I saw him just last week!" I was talking to him - he nodded at me - two seconds ago. I helped with the post mortem care, and asked if it would be alright if I met his family. His wife was sweet as pie, as was his son. I found out later that Mr. Porter had been asking all week to die. It wasn't hard for me to see him go, but it was hard to see his family, even though you could tell they were expecting it. I also asked if I could see what the funeral home guy does when he came in to get Mr. Porter.
I've heard countless times that things are just different when you see someone die, but I never really understood. It's true, though. And there's no other way to explain it. It's not sad, or depressing, or angry, just different. Not in a bad way at all.
The next day we had our clinical evaluations, and Mrs. Rudolph said that I constantly surprise her. She said that she's never had a student, in their first semester no less, ask if they could meet their dead patient's family or funeral home guy. She said usually post mortem care is hard enough. She's never had a student want to be involved all the way to the end, and was very impressed with me. On top of that, she said, I gave someone a shot not long after - a shot that none of the other students wanted to do. She said she really enjoyed my "PICK ME! PICK ME!" attitude, and appreciated that I'm always looking to learn something.
So yeah, this semester was challenging, but incredible, and what a climactic ending! I really feel, for the first time ever, that I'm doing what I was meant to be doing, and it's an amazing feeling.