Enter does not equal tab but Monday equals Friday
I am tired. Very tired. I should go to bed, but when it's your Friday sometimes you stay up way later than your body tells you to because you CAN. So I'm doing that right now. Don't worry, I'll go to bed as soon as this is posted.
I had a good day at work today. That's a big statement, because being a new nurse is hard. I have almost cried a number of times, and I have actually cried twice now while in the presence of my boyfriend when my emotions ran wild, relating to my current hyper-aware state that I have trouble coming down from, and when I do, I crash.
I have worked the last three days in a row. 12 hour shifts are VERY different from 8 or 9 or even 10 hour shifts. I get to the hospital around 6:45am, drop off my lunch, gear up (stethoscope, saline flushes, alcohol swabs, little red book of tricks, pen, watch, and "brain") and go see who my patients will be for the day on the assignment sheet.
Since I'm still orienting to the floor for the next (approximately) five weeks, I also look to see who the nurse I'm working with will be. If I still have a few minutes before 7, I frantically look up as much information about my patients as I can, namely their admission diagnoses, code status, medical history and most recent labs. If I have more time still I'll write down the meds I have to give them at what time and extra notes like what their diet order is and any handy info I've picked up from the last nurse's note.
At 7 it's time for the huddle and at 7:05 I need to track down the night nurse for report. We might be done by 7:15 but usually it's more like 7:30, sometimes later. Then I have a little more time to look up last things before I have to start assessing and medicating my patients. Before you know it, it's almost 10 am and I have a shit ton of charting to do, a med or two that hasn't been given yet (there's always something - last minute orders, forgotten nasal ointment, more pain meds) and my stomach is growling. Maybe I haven't had any coffee yet, because I brought in a fresh mug right at 7 but haven't had three seconds to chug it.
The day pretty much continues like this until suddenly it's 7pm and it's time for me to give report, finish writing my notes, and clock out by 7:30.
Yesterday, the morning started off rough. My alarm didn't go off, so I had ten minutes to throw on scrubs, shove a handful of almonds and half of a stale gluten free donut in my face, and run out the door. I am a morning person, but I need my time in the morning to myself before I can be expected to be chipper answering to every semi-medical related beck-and-call of strangers. When I got to work I heard that the patient who had been calling everyone a fat bitch all night was going to be mine. Great. I spent the morning running around, constantly feeling like I was a drowning cat with my furry little paws flailing to keep me above water, but somehow I made it through the day.
Today I was rewarded with a group of patients I had worked with already, so things went a little faster. I had an idea of how to work with the "fat bitch lady" and how to make sure I saw my third patient, the least troublesome one, more than I had made time for the day before. I got everyone everything they needed and got ALL OF MY BREAKS. Success!!
Extra bonus, said third patient sheepishly offered me the hot pink bracelet his young daughter had made for me (there was another for the nurse I worked with too) and thanked me for the care I gave him. I wore it with pride all day. When it came time to sneak in a moment with my manager to catch up on how I was doing on orientation, she said that the patient had requested to speak with her. I got nervous, but of course now that seems silly. She said that he wanted to talk to her to tell her how amazing everyone had been to him and his family and how good of a job he thought we were all doing. When I was in the room with him later I thanked him for telling her this, and he told me he got teary talking about us to my boss. At the end of the shift, I gave bedside report to a night nurse who I have a good friendly rapport with and the patient said we were the best hand-off team. I high-fived my patient and thanked him for making my week.
It was a good fucking day.
xoxo
I had a good day at work today. That's a big statement, because being a new nurse is hard. I have almost cried a number of times, and I have actually cried twice now while in the presence of my boyfriend when my emotions ran wild, relating to my current hyper-aware state that I have trouble coming down from, and when I do, I crash.
I have worked the last three days in a row. 12 hour shifts are VERY different from 8 or 9 or even 10 hour shifts. I get to the hospital around 6:45am, drop off my lunch, gear up (stethoscope, saline flushes, alcohol swabs, little red book of tricks, pen, watch, and "brain") and go see who my patients will be for the day on the assignment sheet.
Since I'm still orienting to the floor for the next (approximately) five weeks, I also look to see who the nurse I'm working with will be. If I still have a few minutes before 7, I frantically look up as much information about my patients as I can, namely their admission diagnoses, code status, medical history and most recent labs. If I have more time still I'll write down the meds I have to give them at what time and extra notes like what their diet order is and any handy info I've picked up from the last nurse's note.
At 7 it's time for the huddle and at 7:05 I need to track down the night nurse for report. We might be done by 7:15 but usually it's more like 7:30, sometimes later. Then I have a little more time to look up last things before I have to start assessing and medicating my patients. Before you know it, it's almost 10 am and I have a shit ton of charting to do, a med or two that hasn't been given yet (there's always something - last minute orders, forgotten nasal ointment, more pain meds) and my stomach is growling. Maybe I haven't had any coffee yet, because I brought in a fresh mug right at 7 but haven't had three seconds to chug it.
The day pretty much continues like this until suddenly it's 7pm and it's time for me to give report, finish writing my notes, and clock out by 7:30.
Yesterday, the morning started off rough. My alarm didn't go off, so I had ten minutes to throw on scrubs, shove a handful of almonds and half of a stale gluten free donut in my face, and run out the door. I am a morning person, but I need my time in the morning to myself before I can be expected to be chipper answering to every semi-medical related beck-and-call of strangers. When I got to work I heard that the patient who had been calling everyone a fat bitch all night was going to be mine. Great. I spent the morning running around, constantly feeling like I was a drowning cat with my furry little paws flailing to keep me above water, but somehow I made it through the day.
Today I was rewarded with a group of patients I had worked with already, so things went a little faster. I had an idea of how to work with the "fat bitch lady" and how to make sure I saw my third patient, the least troublesome one, more than I had made time for the day before. I got everyone everything they needed and got ALL OF MY BREAKS. Success!!
Extra bonus, said third patient sheepishly offered me the hot pink bracelet his young daughter had made for me (there was another for the nurse I worked with too) and thanked me for the care I gave him. I wore it with pride all day. When it came time to sneak in a moment with my manager to catch up on how I was doing on orientation, she said that the patient had requested to speak with her. I got nervous, but of course now that seems silly. She said that he wanted to talk to her to tell her how amazing everyone had been to him and his family and how good of a job he thought we were all doing. When I was in the room with him later I thanked him for telling her this, and he told me he got teary talking about us to my boss. At the end of the shift, I gave bedside report to a night nurse who I have a good friendly rapport with and the patient said we were the best hand-off team. I high-fived my patient and thanked him for making my week.
It was a good fucking day.
xoxo