tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7596279457400096732011-10-11T13:59:48.361-07:00adminnoreply@blogger.comBlogger101100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-5103200176500707312009-01-29T09:19:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.793-08:00Wow! It's been a ridiculously long time since my last post. <br /><br />Nursing school is offically over. The pinning ceremony was everything I had hoped it would be. Work continues to be work but thanks to the amazing staff, the day goes by better. We laugh together, moan together, understand together.<br /><br />Yesterday was INSANE. But thanks to my friends, I was able to finish giving all the meds before the end of my shift. I don't like the way pharmacy times the meds. It's not unusual to have meds due every hour of the entire shift for one patient. And if you try to group the meds, you have to provide a justification in the computer. Somehow I don't think "makes my life easier" would stand up in a court of law. I think pharm needs to time meds for 0900, 1200, 1500, 1800, 2100, ect... But what do I know. <br /><br />In other news, some of you may know that I have been struggling with my weight since (forever) starting nursing school. In the last year of school I ballooned upto 210 pounds. I had tried dieting the first year of school but never found the time to exercise. Last week I joined Weight Watchers and joined the community gym. I am already feeling the difference emotionally. I have the strength now that I didn't before. It's finally time to put myself first and start taking care of me. The unit where I work is the mecca of diabetes. We see the long term effects of diabetes and hypertension. I was starting down that road and don't want to go there.<br /><br />So, I'll wrap things up now. One last thought, I have discovered just how much I missed my kids during the last semester of nursing school. I now get to spend so much time with them that it's amazing. They are truely the light of my life and I am so proud of them. They are doing fantastic in school and have been so affectionate with me now that I am home with them. It's absolutely amazing. :)<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-510320017650070731?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-85496989196333746392008-12-31T13:10:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.783-08:00I have lost so much self confidence at work over the past few weeks. I can't explain it other than I just feel so royally *stupid*. <br /><br />I'm afraid of my new job. Afraid of taking care of step-down patients. Have that horrible imposter feeling. Don't trust my judgement, don't trust myself. I was once able to make quick decisions about my patient care, but have just been beaten down by this one nurse who is very experienced but wants things done "just so"(her way). I second guess everything I do, standing paralyzed. <br /><br />I'm afraid of not being able to do the new job. I'm afraid of f'king this entire thing up.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-8549698919633374639?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-13051696768590817142008-12-28T10:25:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.766-08:00If you are obese, diabetic and on dialysis because your kidneys are failing, please don't eat honey buns, drink dark colas (bad for kidneys) and eat a bananas. ALL. DAY. LONG. And then procede to tell me it's okay because you take Phos-lo (lowers phosphorus levels from the dark colas), and insulin (honey buns) and go to dialysis (potassium from bananas). Then once I explain how this is an unhealthy way of maintaining good health look me straight in the eyes with a serious face and say "I know". <br /><br />If you have fluids running, please, for the love of God, PLEASE don't try to get into the bathtub to bathe....with the machine plugged into the wall. Please don't later unplug it and try to get into the bathtub and tell me it's OK since the machine is unplugged. And better yet, beg me to disconnect you from the drip, a heparin drip, so you can shower, when you were admitted with several, SEVERAL emboli and the drip is basically the only thing keeping you alive. And then pout like a baby after I spend several minutes explaining why you need the drip and how dangerous it is for you to be disconnected and say with whine "but I want a bath". <br /><br />If I am doing your discharge paperwork, please do not stand outside your door, staring at me as I try and type up your paperwork because it's taking me longer than expected since I had to get a patient ready for the OR, had an admission and then the trays came early so I had to get the insulin out to the othe patients (including you). Your paperwork is low on my list of priorities until those other patients who are more sick that you are (which is why you are going home) kinda need my attention first.<br /><br />Interns, I like you guys. I really do. Ya'll are fun to work with, don't mind me asking questions and always take the time to explain what's going on with the patient. But please, PLEASE, don't tell a patient they'll be discharged "this morning", or worse yet, give them a specific time, like "about 10am". Because you guys always need to round with your attending before you can actually discharge the patient. And you have no control over when your attending wants to round. Often y'all are late, HOURS later in rounding than what you told the patient. Then the patient thinks they'll go home within the hour after y'all round. Which leaves me to explain to an already fuming patient that after rounds, you interns typically spend and hour writing up the discharge orders, dictating them and then then finally hand it all to us. <br /><br />Then WE need to type up meds, set up appointments, make copies and oh yes, call you guys for corrections, wait for you guys to come down and make corrections since we can't take verbals on discharge orders as well as take care of our other patients. So the patient ends up being discharged closer to 3 or 4 pm instead of 10am. And not happy. At all.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-1305169676859081714?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-26276619896975701612008-12-20T05:32:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.755-08:00I'm at a loss for words. <br /><br />Nursing school is over. Really really over. It's time to weed through my books, the papers, the clinical worksheets. It's time to clean out the car of my lab coat, my overstuffed pencil pouch, loose leaf papers that never made it into the binder. <br /><br />Nursing school is the hardest thing I've ever done. I don't know if I'd go so far as to say it's been my greatest personal accomplishment, but it's up there in the top three along with caring for my children and helping them grow up to be strong, responsible adults. As well as living with bipolar disorder and overcoming a terrible bout of postpartum depression. <br /><br />You may not see me for a while. It's time to rest, reflect and enjoy the Holidays. <br /><br />Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Holidays.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-2627661989697570161?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-44544508869251507892008-12-18T11:17:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.738-08:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq2Efwdp0MA/SUp4B5KtKJI/AAAAAAAAALU/10R0ZMo3VkQ/s1600-h/RN+Pinning+Ceremony+013.jpg"><img style="display:block;margin:0px auto 10px;width:400px;height:300px;text-align:center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq2Efwdp0MA/SUp4B5KtKJI/AAAAAAAAALU/10R0ZMo3VkQ/s400/RN+Pinning+Ceremony+013.jpg" border="0"></a><br /><div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-4454450886925150789?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-46622412237133167262008-12-16T08:15:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.720-08:00Today is the LAST day of nursing school!<br /><br />No more lectures, no more books, no more instructor dirty looks! :)<br /><br />A goal accomplished, a dream fulfilled.<br /><br />When I first started seriously considering nursing school (about 5 years ago) I looked on line at the requirements of different schools. I remember thinking there was no way I'd be able to do Anatomy and Physiology, much less Microbiology. I looked at all the different courses and thought it would be impossible. But now here I am, 3 years after starting school, finished. The exit exam I took projected that I have a 98% chance of passing the boards the first time (let's hope the test is right!!) <br /><br />I've made more friends that I've ever had before. Friends that understood the stressors, friends that have laughed with me, cried with me, struggled along side with me. <br /><br />I have a job with the new neuroscience step down unit of our hospital. I've already ordered a book on neuro nursing. I'm so excited about this job! <br /><br />I'm just EXCITED!!!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-4662241223713316726?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-1268567344768484162008-12-02T05:32:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.708-08:00It's taken me a while to post about this, but I witnessed my first death. The woman was in her 80's, DNR. She came in with AMS. Her family had been by her side all morning. She started complaining of chest pain, so an EKG was ordered. As we opened her gown to place the leads, the family said they'd go downstairs to get a cup of coffee.<br /><br />Within minutes of them leaving, she started having trouble breathing. The EKG nurse looked up at woman's nurse (I was in my student role) and said she was in V-tach. I found myself staring at the EKG machine. The woman was still breathing, but then she went into V-fib. At this point the MD was in the room. She started agonal breathing. The nurse kept asking if we were to do anything. The doctor shook his head, "She's DNR" he kept saying. I found myself praying silently for her, that the angels take her soul to heaven. Within in less than a minute, she was gone.<br /><br /> "May the souls of the faithfully departed, in the mercy of God, rest in peace" kept running through my head, over and over and over.<br /><br />I'm somewhat ashamed of myself. I couldn't stop gawking at the entire process of death. I found it fascinating. It was strange though, to not do anything. I mean, if we had walked into her room and she was gone, I understand that at that point we were not to do anything. But she was still alive, trying to breathe. Her heart was trying to beat, poorly I admit, but trying. But if it had been me, and I was 80, actively dying, I wouldn't want anyone to do anything. Hold my hand and just let me go.<br /><br />After the family returned from their coffee break, the doctor told them what had happened. They all stood their, shocked. That was hard to witness. That was more difficult that watching the woman pass away.<br /><br />After several hours, the family left and the nurse and I prepared the body for transport by the funeral home. I was OK for a while, but at one point, all of a sudden, I started feeling strange and I felt the overwhelming need to run. I left the room for a few minutes, composed myself and was able to go back in and finish helping the nurse. I'm not sure what happened. I didn't feel scared, I didn't feel woozy, just not right.<br /><br />And last night, I couldn't get the images of the woman's body out of my mind. Her hands especially. So again, I prayed for her. A warm feeling of comfort overcame me and I was able to finially drift off to sleep.<br /><br />I suppose each time it gets easier. But I hope I never get to the point where I feel nothing.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-126856734476848416?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-39330112161133229572008-11-30T15:55:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.697-08:00School is almost done. The cap and graduation dress are ready. I am sooo ready. <br /><br />I have done such a poor job of posting lately. But I have been so busy. Clinical Monday, class Tuesday, clinical Wednesday, work Thursday, Friday and Saturday. So come Sunday, I am exhausted. Just a few more weeks.....<br /><br />Not much luck on the job front. My manager that promised me an RN position has come to me and said the administration is refusing to post anymore RN positions for our unit because we are overstaffed. She's written up a justification for the positions but it's been over a week and I haven't seen the positions posted. <br /><br />Will have to start looking for another position in case the administration comes back with another "no". But when God closes a door, a window, somewhere is left open.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-3933011216113322957?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-27576681001644502772008-11-26T09:53:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.685-08:00<div align="center"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq2Efwdp0MA/SS1kXXNQnSI/AAAAAAAAALM/g64XK14aBro/s1600-h/thanksgiving.jpg"><img style="display:block;margin:0px auto 10px;width:400px;height:255px;text-align:center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Cq2Efwdp0MA/SS1kXXNQnSI/AAAAAAAAALM/g64XK14aBro/s400/thanksgiving.jpg" border="0"></a><br />Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-2757668100164450277?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-759627945740009673.post-49066490374780793702008-11-17T18:51:00.000-08:002011-01-11T08:53:14.673-08:00I have a job offer! The unit where I work was able to secure funding for the "new grad" RN billet I needed in order to stay! I'm very excited that I'll be able to stay with the most amazing staff. <br /><br />And in other news, my husband informed me that he's decided to go to NURSING SCHOOL!!!!<br /><br />Oh my gosh, I can't believe it! He's been unemployed since Feburary and every job search, every interview comes back with nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. We are starting to wonder if he's been blackballed within his field. He hasn't been the best employee (maybe because he hated his job, sitting behind a desk and staring at the computer for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week with virtually no human contact). But now he's MOTIVATED! He's filling out the application, finding out about information seminars, ect, ect...And dare I say it, there is excitement in his voice, a sparkle in his eye. I'm so happy for him! I know he'll get in and do well.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/759627945740009673-4906649037478079370?l=stethoscopesanddiapers.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>adminnoreply@blogger.com0