Full circle
It was 8 o'clock in the morning. My feet hurt, my eyes felt dry and sleepy-swollen. Hospital air is the driest air around, I'd pit it against any desert. I wanted to go home, but I didn't want to leave. Stepping outside would mark the end of the craziest series of experiences of my life. Stepping outside would mean my career as a nursing student had actually ended. And how could it have possibly ended already?
Four years of theory, three of practice. Somewhere in there I actually learned what I never thought I would. It felt so impossible, first semester sophomore year, shaking in my boots outside my first patient's room. "I have to take vital signs. I have to take vital signs. HolyshitIhavetotakevitalsigns." One patient at a time felt overwhelming. Some of the nurses were distant, unsure what to do with us. We were just LNAs with a better paycheck in our future, if we could make it through.
And somehow we have.
COPD, CHF, ARF, CRF, CAD, PAD, s/p lap chole, influenza, pneumonia, marfan's, hyperthroidism, hypothyroidism, diabetes, hypertension, hypotension, syncope, electrolyte imbalance of every variety, metabolic acidosis/alkaosis, respiratory acidosis/alkaosis, appendectomy, SIADH, TBI, seizures, coma, leukemia, cancer of every variety, meningitis, MRSA, VRSA, massive wounds, amputations, MIs, pacemaker placements, cardiac catheterizations, bronchoscopies, lung biopsies, total knee and hip replacements, hysterectomies, thyroidectomies, bone biopsies, bone marrow aspiration, central line and picc placements, chest tubes, ventilators, DKA, neuropathy, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, massive depression, dissociative personality disorder, suicide attempts, pregnancy, breast feeding, vaginal birth, cesarean section, fetal demise, premies, RSV, hemorrhage, asthma, tube feedings, ADHD, survivors of sexual assault, domestic abuse, poverty, perpetrators of sexual assault and domestic violence, hit/punched/body-checked/kicked/spit on/scratched/slapped by patients, MRT's, codes, post-mortem care. and that's probably not all.
I have seen all of these things. Each patient has a story, and the pockets of my memory are bulging with them. I carry them around, so many stories with unknown endings. I don't know what happens to them after they leave. We have short, intense encounters where they tell me their histories, their secrets, their fears, their jokes, and I listen and sew additions to my pockets so I won't forget. I think this is why I have such difficulty remembering where I put my ID and my keys. If there's no room left and I have to choose what to keep, I choose them.
And last night I had my last 4 patients as a student. I want to keep them here in case my memory get bruised and dim.
David: syncope, atrial fibrillation/atrial flutter, orthostatic hypotension, diabetes, BPH with urinary retention, pacemaker placement. Sweet, sweet person. I admitted him wednesday night, and he hugged me thursday when I came back with a playful, "OH hey Kim's back! It's going to be a good night!"
Eunice: CHF, new onset. 80 years old and sharp as a tac. Willing to spit in the world's eye and give anyone shit if she thought they needed it. Big glasses, almost no hair. Sweet as anything if you made a few good jokes and gave her a wink.
Albert: s/p laryngectomy, influenza/pneumonia, likes to offer his pills verbal encouragement when they don't come out of the package easily "come on you, get out here, you can do it, 'atta boy!" Sweet as high fructose corn syrup. Hoarse voice that reminded me of sawdust. Kept offering the most sincere "thank you's" I've ever heard for the smallest things. He broke my heart. No visitors. Spent a lot of time keeping him company and hearing about his grandkids.
Dave: Oh Dave. Hypertensive encephalopathy with mental status changes and diabetes. VERY confused. talks in his sleep to people who are not there. "Get in the right branch and you can see the world, you'd be a good fighter pilot! No, they won't get me back in the navy. hahah, no, I don't think so. I served my 4 years and was pretty chickenshit by the end of it. You know my sister?" When he was awake he was having visual and auditory hallucinations. clouds of smoke and mosquitoes in his room. babies crying outside. multiplying TVs. His car running, who's car was he in a little while ago? His son dropped an anvil on his granddaughters head. She must be dead, but none of the children in his room will tell him what happened. His son died a few weeks ago, cirrhosis. His wife would not be able to handle the news, she loved that little girl. She was cremated and he wants to be too! Not much land left for bodies! Getting more and more expensive, better die soon if you want to be buried. We kept his bed alarm on because he kept wandering off. Every time the alarm would sound he'd pick up his found, or hit the staff emergency button. I'd take him to the bathroom, close the door behind him, and he would knock to be let out. "You don't see the smoke? I'm losing it then, huh? Bananas. Off my rocker. LOOK! There! you can't see that?? Damn. Damn. I guess I'm going bonkers."
The staff like me, at least. They're looking forward to me joining "the team." AFG "fired" me a few times Thursday morning for not having tape, printing out the wrong form, little things. Jeanne was ragging on me being the "newest member." And this morning, as I was leaving, the charge nurse told me how impressed she's been with my performance and demeanor. "I've thought on more than one occassion, 'wow, I hope my daughter presents herself the way you do.'"
So TAKE THAT UNH Nursing Department! I've learned it. I've done it. I've made it. I've been waiting for this since I was 15 years old. My career is about to begin.
I'm going to be a nurse.
Four years of theory, three of practice. Somewhere in there I actually learned what I never thought I would. It felt so impossible, first semester sophomore year, shaking in my boots outside my first patient's room. "I have to take vital signs. I have to take vital signs. HolyshitIhavetotakevitalsigns." One patient at a time felt overwhelming. Some of the nurses were distant, unsure what to do with us. We were just LNAs with a better paycheck in our future, if we could make it through.
And somehow we have.
COPD, CHF, ARF, CRF, CAD, PAD, s/p lap chole, influenza, pneumonia, marfan's, hyperthroidism, hypothyroidism, diabetes, hypertension, hypotension, syncope, electrolyte imbalance of every variety, metabolic acidosis/alkaosis, respiratory acidosis/alkaosis, appendectomy, SIADH, TBI, seizures, coma, leukemia, cancer of every variety, meningitis, MRSA, VRSA, massive wounds, amputations, MIs, pacemaker placements, cardiac catheterizations, bronchoscopies, lung biopsies, total knee and hip replacements, hysterectomies, thyroidectomies, bone biopsies, bone marrow aspiration, central line and picc placements, chest tubes, ventilators, DKA, neuropathy, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, massive depression, dissociative personality disorder, suicide attempts, pregnancy, breast feeding, vaginal birth, cesarean section, fetal demise, premies, RSV, hemorrhage, asthma, tube feedings, ADHD, survivors of sexual assault, domestic abuse, poverty, perpetrators of sexual assault and domestic violence, hit/punched/body-checked/kicked/spit on/scratched/slapped by patients, MRT's, codes, post-mortem care. and that's probably not all.
I have seen all of these things. Each patient has a story, and the pockets of my memory are bulging with them. I carry them around, so many stories with unknown endings. I don't know what happens to them after they leave. We have short, intense encounters where they tell me their histories, their secrets, their fears, their jokes, and I listen and sew additions to my pockets so I won't forget. I think this is why I have such difficulty remembering where I put my ID and my keys. If there's no room left and I have to choose what to keep, I choose them.
And last night I had my last 4 patients as a student. I want to keep them here in case my memory get bruised and dim.
David: syncope, atrial fibrillation/atrial flutter, orthostatic hypotension, diabetes, BPH with urinary retention, pacemaker placement. Sweet, sweet person. I admitted him wednesday night, and he hugged me thursday when I came back with a playful, "OH hey Kim's back! It's going to be a good night!"
Eunice: CHF, new onset. 80 years old and sharp as a tac. Willing to spit in the world's eye and give anyone shit if she thought they needed it. Big glasses, almost no hair. Sweet as anything if you made a few good jokes and gave her a wink.
Albert: s/p laryngectomy, influenza/pneumonia, likes to offer his pills verbal encouragement when they don't come out of the package easily "come on you, get out here, you can do it, 'atta boy!" Sweet as high fructose corn syrup. Hoarse voice that reminded me of sawdust. Kept offering the most sincere "thank you's" I've ever heard for the smallest things. He broke my heart. No visitors. Spent a lot of time keeping him company and hearing about his grandkids.
Dave: Oh Dave. Hypertensive encephalopathy with mental status changes and diabetes. VERY confused. talks in his sleep to people who are not there. "Get in the right branch and you can see the world, you'd be a good fighter pilot! No, they won't get me back in the navy. hahah, no, I don't think so. I served my 4 years and was pretty chickenshit by the end of it. You know my sister?" When he was awake he was having visual and auditory hallucinations. clouds of smoke and mosquitoes in his room. babies crying outside. multiplying TVs. His car running, who's car was he in a little while ago? His son dropped an anvil on his granddaughters head. She must be dead, but none of the children in his room will tell him what happened. His son died a few weeks ago, cirrhosis. His wife would not be able to handle the news, she loved that little girl. She was cremated and he wants to be too! Not much land left for bodies! Getting more and more expensive, better die soon if you want to be buried. We kept his bed alarm on because he kept wandering off. Every time the alarm would sound he'd pick up his found, or hit the staff emergency button. I'd take him to the bathroom, close the door behind him, and he would knock to be let out. "You don't see the smoke? I'm losing it then, huh? Bananas. Off my rocker. LOOK! There! you can't see that?? Damn. Damn. I guess I'm going bonkers."
The staff like me, at least. They're looking forward to me joining "the team." AFG "fired" me a few times Thursday morning for not having tape, printing out the wrong form, little things. Jeanne was ragging on me being the "newest member." And this morning, as I was leaving, the charge nurse told me how impressed she's been with my performance and demeanor. "I've thought on more than one occassion, 'wow, I hope my daughter presents herself the way you do.'"
So TAKE THAT UNH Nursing Department! I've learned it. I've done it. I've made it. I've been waiting for this since I was 15 years old. My career is about to begin.
I'm going to be a nurse.