Could You Tell Me About That Bowel Movement One More Time
Yeaaaaaah. There's a reason I am switching from the field of psychology to the field of nursing. I love learning about psychology. To me it is fascinating and it permeates all aspects of life and will affect any job you get in any field. But I DO NOT want to do straight psychology anymore. No counseling. No case management. And by God, no more freaking therapeutic communication till my eyes bleed.
Today was my first day of psychiatric clinicals. I was on the geriatric ward, which are mostly the patients with some form of dementia. A paranoid schizophrenic thrown in here or there, but mostly Alzheimers and friends. The patients were all very sweet, I had no problems, I got a lot of hugs when I left. It was not a bad day. It was just really boring. The only thing we wil get to do with these patients on this rotation is talk to them. We don't give any meds, do any assessments, dress any wounds, etc. All we get to do is talk to them. For 12 hours. Remember, these are patients with dementia. Do you know how many times I heard the same story about so and so's puppy and the time they drank from the toilet? I bet you can guess that it was more than once. And then there was the lady who had dementia nad diarrhea. That is one awful combination. I lost count of the times she told me about her loose bowel movements and missing the toilet.
I'm actually laughing to myself as I type this, because the day was bad in a funny kind of way and not the kind of way that anybody should be truly upset about. I'm going back tommorrow for another eight hours. It won't be so bad knowing that after tommorrow my thanksgiving break officially starts.
On a similar but different note, I think dementia is the scariest thing in the world. By the end of Stage 4 Alzheimer's, these poor people do not even recognize their loved ones. It is like every second of every day is completely new and scary to them. What kind of hell is that to live in? Give me cancer anyday over that.
Today was my first day of psychiatric clinicals. I was on the geriatric ward, which are mostly the patients with some form of dementia. A paranoid schizophrenic thrown in here or there, but mostly Alzheimers and friends. The patients were all very sweet, I had no problems, I got a lot of hugs when I left. It was not a bad day. It was just really boring. The only thing we wil get to do with these patients on this rotation is talk to them. We don't give any meds, do any assessments, dress any wounds, etc. All we get to do is talk to them. For 12 hours. Remember, these are patients with dementia. Do you know how many times I heard the same story about so and so's puppy and the time they drank from the toilet? I bet you can guess that it was more than once. And then there was the lady who had dementia nad diarrhea. That is one awful combination. I lost count of the times she told me about her loose bowel movements and missing the toilet.
I'm actually laughing to myself as I type this, because the day was bad in a funny kind of way and not the kind of way that anybody should be truly upset about. I'm going back tommorrow for another eight hours. It won't be so bad knowing that after tommorrow my thanksgiving break officially starts.
On a similar but different note, I think dementia is the scariest thing in the world. By the end of Stage 4 Alzheimer's, these poor people do not even recognize their loved ones. It is like every second of every day is completely new and scary to them. What kind of hell is that to live in? Give me cancer anyday over that.