Sunday, April 26, 2009
Question
The funeral for the patient that I previously wrote about was yesterday (Saturday). I didn't go because I worked the night before and I worked last night as well. I'm not sure I would have gone if I didn't work. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I was mentioned by name in the program, which makes me feel even worse that I didn't go. Should I have gone?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Comic Relief
Be aware there is some foul language, so if you are offended by that, I wouldn't watch. If not, please enjoy, it's funny.
Catharsis
I'm jumping on the blogging bandwagon. No so much because I think I have a lot to say, but more as a dumping ground for my work "baggage". I'm an ICU nurse that works the night shift. I love my job. I love working with people and their families and trying to make a difference. I have discovered in the last couple of weeks that my job, no matter how fulfilling is just plain sad sometimes. When you first experience death at work, it is a reverent, almost awing experience. You realize that you were there when someone took their last breath. You can actually see a difference in someones face from one second where there is life to the next where is none. Many people will never experience that. I experience it all the time.
Where I work, the majority of our patients are elderly. We can tell ourselves that they have been blessed with a long life and it's their time to go. But sometimes, like the last couple of weeks, we have a patient who is young, who should be full of life, going off to college, meeting their spouse and having kids, but they are with us, hooked up to machines, fighting to stay alive. It is for this patient that I cried for the first time. A few weeks ago, it was my turn to have her as my patient. She was so critically ill she requries a nurse that doesn't have any other patients, or a 1:1 assignment. Her family was ever observant at her bedside, asking many questions and scrutinizing my nursing care. I worked through the night titrating medications and addressing subtle changes in order to keep her alive at least one more date. I dreamt about her while I slept and woke up thinking about her. I cried for her while getting ready for work. When I arrived at work for my next shift, I was told it was a rough day for her and there was a question if she would make it through the night. When I saw her young parents quietly standing vigil at her bedside I touched her mom's shoulder and immediately had to leave the room and find a quiet place to sob. I knew that I had to get it out of my system in order to do my job for the next 12 hours. When I collected myself, her mother asked what if I thought her condition was better or worse. I was honest and said I believed her to be in worse shape than when I left. Her mom asked what I would do. Looking in the room at her, I answered honestly. It was my daughter I would stay with her through the night. I could almost picture my daughter lying there. How my heart ached for her mother. This young lady did make it through the night, but only to suffer more and more set backs.
We nurses have all known the outcome was probably not going to be good for this her, but that didn't make it any easier. Someone has to have hope and the parents never gave up. This patient is a young adult, but to her parents, I'm sure they still see a little girl lying in the bed.
I didn't go into work tonight, I have a project due in school and traded shifts. I decided to call and check on this patient out of curiosity and found out she had passed this evening. After over a month in the ICU, many nurses had grown emotionally attached to the plight of this young woman and her family. My charge nurse told be that many nurses and some of her doctors cried at her passing, not unlike what I am doing as I write this. Which brings be back to the reason for this blog. As a nurse, and especially an ICU nurse, there is a certain amount of distance you need to create in order to be professional. You hold in your sadness, frustration and even anger in order to put on a brave and caring face. Most of the times, it works out OK, sometimes it helps to write about it.
Where I work, the majority of our patients are elderly. We can tell ourselves that they have been blessed with a long life and it's their time to go. But sometimes, like the last couple of weeks, we have a patient who is young, who should be full of life, going off to college, meeting their spouse and having kids, but they are with us, hooked up to machines, fighting to stay alive. It is for this patient that I cried for the first time. A few weeks ago, it was my turn to have her as my patient. She was so critically ill she requries a nurse that doesn't have any other patients, or a 1:1 assignment. Her family was ever observant at her bedside, asking many questions and scrutinizing my nursing care. I worked through the night titrating medications and addressing subtle changes in order to keep her alive at least one more date. I dreamt about her while I slept and woke up thinking about her. I cried for her while getting ready for work. When I arrived at work for my next shift, I was told it was a rough day for her and there was a question if she would make it through the night. When I saw her young parents quietly standing vigil at her bedside I touched her mom's shoulder and immediately had to leave the room and find a quiet place to sob. I knew that I had to get it out of my system in order to do my job for the next 12 hours. When I collected myself, her mother asked what if I thought her condition was better or worse. I was honest and said I believed her to be in worse shape than when I left. Her mom asked what I would do. Looking in the room at her, I answered honestly. It was my daughter I would stay with her through the night. I could almost picture my daughter lying there. How my heart ached for her mother. This young lady did make it through the night, but only to suffer more and more set backs.
We nurses have all known the outcome was probably not going to be good for this her, but that didn't make it any easier. Someone has to have hope and the parents never gave up. This patient is a young adult, but to her parents, I'm sure they still see a little girl lying in the bed.
I didn't go into work tonight, I have a project due in school and traded shifts. I decided to call and check on this patient out of curiosity and found out she had passed this evening. After over a month in the ICU, many nurses had grown emotionally attached to the plight of this young woman and her family. My charge nurse told be that many nurses and some of her doctors cried at her passing, not unlike what I am doing as I write this. Which brings be back to the reason for this blog. As a nurse, and especially an ICU nurse, there is a certain amount of distance you need to create in order to be professional. You hold in your sadness, frustration and even anger in order to put on a brave and caring face. Most of the times, it works out OK, sometimes it helps to write about it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
