Difficult nurses and sweet patients

I had the experience of working with a nurse who has a dreaded reputation of being hard on students. He got one of my classmates sent home in tears because she didn’t know something about one of the medications. I also heard he likes to drill the students on things he thinks they should know and gives them scathing remarks when they don’t know. When I found out he was the nurse for my patient, I groaned to myself and decided that if he asked me something I didn’t know, I’d just tell him that was something I didn’t know yet, but I’d be pleased if he would tell me. Thankfully, I wasn’t giving medications that day.

When I went to get my report from him on my patient, he informed me that this was a personal friend of his and I’d better take good care of him. Great! My patient turned out to be a real sweetheart and I spent the first 2 hours just talking to him. He had 3 wounds on his foot that aren’t healing. The nurse quizzed me about what 2 things hindered them from healing. I knew immediately that his primary problem was his diabetes, but I had to talk my way through the other one after first telling him that I wasn’t so sure about the second but it was related to his CHF. He told me I was on the right track, so I continued rambling until I had it figured out. Score 1 for me!

He actually sat down with my patient and I and talked quite civilly for a bit even though he was behind in his work. At the end of the day, my patient was really sorry to see me go, but best off all, the nurse told me I did a really good job. I was amazed that he had been so nice to me all day and answered all my questions about charting and about my patient’s particular ailments. So I told him I enjoyed working with him. He just stared at me for a little bit then said, “I don’t know why!” I think he knows his reputation. So I left with a smile on the inside knowing that I had confounded him, and just maybe I brightened his day

Brain Hiccup

My brain hiccup of the week: Sometimes I go for days without checking my mail--snail mail that is--mostly because I'm just too tired. After getting my mail on Saturday, I diligently decided to check it on Monday. No mail--duh, Sara! It's a holiday, and a postal employee, of all people, should know that!

Cool medical experiences of the week: Today I was off site at the endoscopy lab. It's just the coolest thing to see the inside of the colon. Amazing the technology that allows doctors to just snip off a polyp and cauterize it right there. I also saw an esophagus with varices which were banded. And best of all, I saw a feeding tube inserted through the mouth, fed down through the esophagus and out through the wall of the stomach after the nurse had made an incision and poked a gigantic needle through the stomach wall to draw out the tube. I know it's rather morbid that I got my jollies at the expense of another person's ailments, but then that's what nursing is all about.

Most fascinating patient of the week: Santa Claus. Quite an interesting fellow.

Blood shot eye

The sclera of my left eye is injected (blood shot eyes for those of you non-medical people). Could this be because I was drinking alcohol? No, that doesn't happen to be one of my weaknesses. Could it be due to lack of sleep? I exist in a perpetual state of sleep deprivation, so that can't be it. Maybe I got shampoo in it. Nope, but that's getting closer. In fact, I shot myself in the eye with shaving cream. Only I could pull that one off.

Pity party

I'm being ridiculously pathetic right now so I thought it might help to just write about my poor frame of mind. Somehow that helps me put my smallness in perspective. I'm feeling sorry for myself because I'm so tired I can hardly stand it, but I still have half a shift to work before I can go home. I know I have 2 patient interactions to write up, as well as a case study and nursing care plan. Then I have to study for 2 exams. That must all be accomplished this weekend which means Sunday since I have to work on Saturday.

To add to my gloominess, I really wanted to have my holiday off on the 18th. Of course, I could be selfish and insist on it since that is my right, but I just can't do that. I looked on the schedule and saw that another supervisor has off on that day. That means they'd have to call in somebody on their day off because I want my holiday off. Sometimes I wish I could just harden my heart and be selfish. But as a certain person told me recently (you know who you are, Twila), I'm a people pleaser.

Now that I've got that out of my system, maybe I can continue with a cheerful attitude. After all, I've got a really good job. And God did bless me with a fairly intelligent mind so I can grasp concepts in the little study time I have. Now if I can just let go of that need to make an A.

Smiles

I get so tickled at the people I work with sometimes. Last week one of the ladies came up to me and asked me if I was feeling ok? I was rather bewildered by her question and assured her I was fine. She was concerned because I wasn't smiling as much as I normally do. Since when is smiling, or a lack thereof, a criteria for thinking somebody might be ill?

This isn't the first time these people around here have commented on my smiles. I never considered myself as somebody who just goes around smiling at people all the time, but evidently I do without realizing it. I was recently confronted with it firsthand in quite a startling way. At Moccasin Bend we were taking a tour of a building where the long-term patients stay. As we went into a room, I came face to face with a mirror. What did I see? A group of people staring blankly at our guide and me--smiling at her. I've always thought that the reason people seem to single me out to focus on was because I'm dressed differently. But maybe it's because I respond to what they are saying with my facial expressions. The rest of that tour, I consciously tried keeping my face just as bland as everybody else's, but I just couldn't seem to do it. If I was amused or made eye contact, I just couldn't help smiling. Maybe it was because the whole thing made me want to just laugh hysterically once I started thinking about it. I sure hope my face isn't an open book to what I'm thinking all the time.

And that reminds me...one of the last times I was at home, Dad told me that as a baby, he only had to make eye contact with me to make me smile. I guess I'm just weird...make that a happy weird.

Southern Winters

Who took my 60-degree winter weather? I want it back. I mean, really! Snow and sleet??? This is the South!

Moccasin Bend

I've met quite the characters at Moccasin Bend, and this isn't even including the mental patients.

Yesterday I wore one of my favorite dresses and got rave reviews. It's one of the pieces I picked up in NYC--pink eyelet. Two different ladies at Moccasin Bend commented on it. One lady asked me if I made that dress because she had bought some similar fabric and paid somebody to make it up for her. The other lady cracked me up. She asked me where I got that beautiful dress. I told her I bought the fabric in NYC. She looks at me with huge eyes and says, "You made it?" When I affirmed this, she says, "You're lying! I didn't know people still designed and sewed their own clothes!" Then, "Why are you covering it up?" I had on a jacket. I said, "Because it's a little cold outside." She proceded to rant and rave and made me take my jacket off so she could see all of it. I just had to laugh.

Today this same lady who is the sister of one of the patients on my unit asked me if I was Catholic because of my veil. I told her that I was Mennonite. She had never heard of that. So I asked her if she had heard of the Amish because I was similar to them only more liberal. Her face just lit up as she slapped her leg emphatically (she has good potential as a drama queen). She raved about how she lives to get stuff from the Amish. She wishes I could get her all that good food, jellies, jams, spices and whatever else she gets. I just chortled at her because I'm sure not going to volunteer my precious time to cook and bake for her.

Another man I met has been trying to convince me to come work at Moccasin Bend. He's sure I'd like it there. Every time I meet up with him now, he calls me Miss Moccasin Bend. Today he started calling me Miss America. I guess I'm moving up in the world.