To all my NICU nurses, moms, friends and people just visiting my blog:
Fall season is upon us, so I've added a little store if you'd like to do a little shopping while you read! See the bottom of this blog for Megan's Little Store. Thanks!
Megan
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Challenge Accepted!
Friday, the 13th of all days to be a NICU nurse in a level 3...and I accepted my challenge with a brave face.
I woke up just before I had to stroll into work for my long weekend. I'm usually still groggy on my first day back from a lovely, long stretch of off days. I wasn't looking forward to this particular weekend simply because it was the annual NICU lake trip and since it was my required weekend to work, I had no one to switch days with me so I could go. I guess the lake is more favorable given the choice to work or spend the weekend with some crazy NICU nurses! Not only that, but my hubby was on his way to watch the Green Bay Packers in Wisconsin, ANOTHER trip I missed because of the lake trip. Oh well, there were babies that needed to be taken care of and there will always be more lake trips and football games.
I glanced at the assignment sheet. Next to my name was written, 25 weeker, Vent 1:1, 5. Which meant this infant requires one on one care because of how critical it is. An infant on a 5 status basically means put your big girl pants on, pull your bootstraps up and get to work! I was given a lengthy report, and began to feel overwhelmed with the sheer amount of information being given. "Wow," I thought. "I'm in for it."
My fave patients are the micropreemies. I've always said that I liked the sick ones. They really are great experience for new nurses and you become stronger in so many ways. This baby was sick. So sick, that it had been coded a couple times but was able to remain stable on the ventilator after successful resuscitation efforts. This little one was on so many medications. It's MAR was 6 pages long and was given everything from meds to keep it's BP up to meds that stopped seizures and meds for sedation. The infant also needed constant monitoring of blood gasses and labs, so those had to be drawn constantly and pending lab results the infant needed blood products and IV fluid changes. The infant also had physical characteristics that made the docs suspect something was genetically wrong. I never left the bedside and this was only my first day of three.
Three days per week may not seem like a lot for people outside of the healthcare field. But in those three days nurses work 12 + hours per day and if you're lucky you get to sit down for a 30 minute lunch.
Day 2 and day 3 were just as busy as the first day. I would go home after a long shift, utterly exhausted, using all my efforts to simply keep this baby alive and comfortable by suctioning, repositioning the ET tube and the infant, all while being as delicate as possible. For the parents, as mentioned in an older post, I'm a stickler for a clean incubator! But with this there were so many wires and equipment that it was hard for me to organize it all. Not only that, but there was so much going on with the actual patient that my bed organization was the last thing on my priority list. But I managed a clean "office"area :) (That's what I call my incubators).
I would go home after my shifts and my mind would race and race. I couldn't turn off the questions about this baby and I kept thinking what would happen when I returned? Would it still be alive? Have I done all I could as a nurse? So many thoughts were present and I couldn't get answers unless I was at work which made me almost not want to leave the unit! I was anxious when I got home because I became so involved with this baby. I a was mentally rooting for her to live and I, to do everything I could. It was like we were a little team, working together. I would make a simple change and she would tell me if it was working for her by her vital signs. lab values and activity and I would adjust things accordingly. In a very short time I became involved quickly, telling her, "With all this work I've done for you, you owe me to live, girl." I wanted to see her months from now go home with her family.
Monday morning I gave report and left the NICU around 0730. I arrived home around 0800 and got ready for bed. I was exhausted and glad to have the day off. Still, those questions lingered, preventing me from falling asleep so I watched TV for a bit and slowly drifted off into a much needed dreamland on my living room couch.
About an hour later, I awoke with a startle thinking I was still at work. I took myself up to my bed and attempted to fall back asleep but my mind wouldn't let me. 1400 rolled around and I was still staring at the ceiling. Somewhere between those times, I took a bath to try and relax but my mind was overpowering every attempt to just simply close my eyes. I was too anxious and all I wanted to do was get back to work and see what was going on with that baby. I even tried Facebook chatting with my sister until I got a text message from a co-worker, "Parents decided to withdraw care on your baby today. " "Head ultrasound came back with a grade 4 headbleed." Now I REALLY wasn't going to sleep.
The infant passed that Monday morning as soon as they withdrew all care. I don't really need to express the sheer disappointment and sadness I felt. For a new NICU nurse, it was a reality check. You can't save them all. I thought, "But we've had plenty of 25 weekers that have gone home." Nothing really bothered me before until now. For some reason, I was truly and deeply affected by this. It was odd for me. I never reacted this way to a patient, even those that have passed. I think it was because of the sheer will for me to help her live. It was the thought that, "We can save her." Sunday night I thought she was smooth sailing. ABGs were the best they had been, I thought they could even D/C her BP meds. She was tolerating care. I thought she was in the clear. But because of the severity of her headbleed, there was nothing we could do further.
Sad.
Looking back, this was the best and most challenging experience I've had as a nurse and I'm thankful for it. I had learned new skills that I'd never done before and my confidence has grown despite not being able to save her life. These babies are why we are NICU nurses and I'm grateful for them, good and bad outcomes. I grew as a nurse in those three days and am left with a new appreciation for just being able to live. It sounds cliche, but that baby fought so hard to have what comes easily to others. Life is truly, truly precious.
Be THANKFUL if you have life today.
I woke up just before I had to stroll into work for my long weekend. I'm usually still groggy on my first day back from a lovely, long stretch of off days. I wasn't looking forward to this particular weekend simply because it was the annual NICU lake trip and since it was my required weekend to work, I had no one to switch days with me so I could go. I guess the lake is more favorable given the choice to work or spend the weekend with some crazy NICU nurses! Not only that, but my hubby was on his way to watch the Green Bay Packers in Wisconsin, ANOTHER trip I missed because of the lake trip. Oh well, there were babies that needed to be taken care of and there will always be more lake trips and football games.
I glanced at the assignment sheet. Next to my name was written, 25 weeker, Vent 1:1, 5. Which meant this infant requires one on one care because of how critical it is. An infant on a 5 status basically means put your big girl pants on, pull your bootstraps up and get to work! I was given a lengthy report, and began to feel overwhelmed with the sheer amount of information being given. "Wow," I thought. "I'm in for it."
My fave patients are the micropreemies. I've always said that I liked the sick ones. They really are great experience for new nurses and you become stronger in so many ways. This baby was sick. So sick, that it had been coded a couple times but was able to remain stable on the ventilator after successful resuscitation efforts. This little one was on so many medications. It's MAR was 6 pages long and was given everything from meds to keep it's BP up to meds that stopped seizures and meds for sedation. The infant also needed constant monitoring of blood gasses and labs, so those had to be drawn constantly and pending lab results the infant needed blood products and IV fluid changes. The infant also had physical characteristics that made the docs suspect something was genetically wrong. I never left the bedside and this was only my first day of three.
Three days per week may not seem like a lot for people outside of the healthcare field. But in those three days nurses work 12 + hours per day and if you're lucky you get to sit down for a 30 minute lunch.
Day 2 and day 3 were just as busy as the first day. I would go home after a long shift, utterly exhausted, using all my efforts to simply keep this baby alive and comfortable by suctioning, repositioning the ET tube and the infant, all while being as delicate as possible. For the parents, as mentioned in an older post, I'm a stickler for a clean incubator! But with this there were so many wires and equipment that it was hard for me to organize it all. Not only that, but there was so much going on with the actual patient that my bed organization was the last thing on my priority list. But I managed a clean "office"area :) (That's what I call my incubators).
I would go home after my shifts and my mind would race and race. I couldn't turn off the questions about this baby and I kept thinking what would happen when I returned? Would it still be alive? Have I done all I could as a nurse? So many thoughts were present and I couldn't get answers unless I was at work which made me almost not want to leave the unit! I was anxious when I got home because I became so involved with this baby. I a was mentally rooting for her to live and I, to do everything I could. It was like we were a little team, working together. I would make a simple change and she would tell me if it was working for her by her vital signs. lab values and activity and I would adjust things accordingly. In a very short time I became involved quickly, telling her, "With all this work I've done for you, you owe me to live, girl." I wanted to see her months from now go home with her family.
Monday morning I gave report and left the NICU around 0730. I arrived home around 0800 and got ready for bed. I was exhausted and glad to have the day off. Still, those questions lingered, preventing me from falling asleep so I watched TV for a bit and slowly drifted off into a much needed dreamland on my living room couch.
About an hour later, I awoke with a startle thinking I was still at work. I took myself up to my bed and attempted to fall back asleep but my mind wouldn't let me. 1400 rolled around and I was still staring at the ceiling. Somewhere between those times, I took a bath to try and relax but my mind was overpowering every attempt to just simply close my eyes. I was too anxious and all I wanted to do was get back to work and see what was going on with that baby. I even tried Facebook chatting with my sister until I got a text message from a co-worker, "Parents decided to withdraw care on your baby today. " "Head ultrasound came back with a grade 4 headbleed." Now I REALLY wasn't going to sleep.
The infant passed that Monday morning as soon as they withdrew all care. I don't really need to express the sheer disappointment and sadness I felt. For a new NICU nurse, it was a reality check. You can't save them all. I thought, "But we've had plenty of 25 weekers that have gone home." Nothing really bothered me before until now. For some reason, I was truly and deeply affected by this. It was odd for me. I never reacted this way to a patient, even those that have passed. I think it was because of the sheer will for me to help her live. It was the thought that, "We can save her." Sunday night I thought she was smooth sailing. ABGs were the best they had been, I thought they could even D/C her BP meds. She was tolerating care. I thought she was in the clear. But because of the severity of her headbleed, there was nothing we could do further.
Sad.
Looking back, this was the best and most challenging experience I've had as a nurse and I'm thankful for it. I had learned new skills that I'd never done before and my confidence has grown despite not being able to save her life. These babies are why we are NICU nurses and I'm grateful for them, good and bad outcomes. I grew as a nurse in those three days and am left with a new appreciation for just being able to live. It sounds cliche, but that baby fought so hard to have what comes easily to others. Life is truly, truly precious.
Be THANKFUL if you have life today.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Happiness. Joy. Love.
Growing up, most of us have probably heard of the saying, "If you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life." I have my NICU job, yes. I love it but sometimes there are days I want to hide in the linen closet and curl up in a ball. At the end of a long shift my legs ache, you could use the oil on my face to fry chicken and I'm so tired that coffee doesn't help. Currently, my husband and I (newlyweds) are working on the next chapters in life, children and buying a house and so he comes to me with the idea. "Hey, can you work more?" Ugh...now before you judge my hubby, he works 60+ hours a week on average. He's a police officer and they have an abundant supply of off duty gigs that pay somewhere in the range of 25-30$ per hour, sometimes cash money at the end of a job. It's wonderful if we want to go on a trip or buy something expensive. He'll work a few off duty jobs and those expenses never touch our bank accounts.
Sometimes the off duty jobs are easy and there are plenty out there. All my husband has to do is contact someone and he can have a job that night. A lot of the jobs require little effort. The officer can just watch a building for security purposes. They can sit in their cars, read books and watch movies to pass the time until their time is over or if something happened. I wish nurses had those options! We can use our expertise in many ways! I wish nurses had the option to have a chill off duty gig for about the same wage we make hourly on our regular jobs.
It's easy for my husband to say, "Can you work more?" because for him...working more is usually not really "working." For me to work more, it would likely mean to get another job, and ideally, an additional PRN job because that's where the most money is made. But with the PRN job means applying and interviewing, if you get that far, then waiting for the call back to be hired. Next, you'd go through orientation...and you'd start working. You would go to this PRN job likely after you've worked a full week on your regular unit and if the nurses were friends of yours, they wouldn't give you the most difficult patients because you're only there every once in a while. Some days may be slow but there are days when you would bust your ass and take names. My point, having an additional nursing job is not as easy as a police officer's "extra job." So I've been doing some thinking and I'm definitely a woman who looks for better solutions to life's problems. There is always a better way if you're not happy with something in your life or when things just need to be tweaked a little.
I started to ponder and think...something I do too much. Then I asked myself, "What would be my ideal way to make extra money?" Something effortless, fun, easy and enjoyable. Something that defines who I am, like a hobby! I did some research on those jobs...nothing nursing related showed up in the search results! Imagine that. I was waiting for the feeling of. "YES! That would be fun!" and I found it.
People who know me well, know I love animals. I could never work for a vet or a shelter, however. If I'm going to have a second job, it has to be a happy environment, all the time. I researched animal jobs and found some places where they board animals when people go on vacations. I thought this would be a wonderful place to spend my free time! The drawback was the pay rates. Obviously, you can't make a nurses salary walking dogs and playing with cats. That's something I'm ok with and believe it or not, my husband is, too. The extra income would be small, but it's still extra income.
What matters the most to me is that I would enjoy it. We all should do things we LOVE and if you get paid in the process, that's only the added benefit. We should have hobbies and surround ourselves with people, places and things that make us smile and bring joy to our world. Work doesn't have to be work if it brings you a special purpose. Many may not understand what I'm saying or why I would want to make extra money working with animals, but it's not about what others think. It's about me and anyone reading this. We go through life doing things we don't like. We go to jobs we hate. We marry people for the wrong reasons. We are depressed, anxious, tired. We often times neglect what we really want out of life, work at some place because we are obligated and want a big paycheck. But to me, it's the little things and it's about enjoying life. I have my career which I love and it's my passion, that's already been established. My job makes me happy. I love the patients and my co-workers but if having another job means less time with my husband, being more tired from working more hours and just bringing additional stress, then it's not worth it.
I'll close with this...
Find a career that you love, then work on you, define yourself with friends, hobbies and things that make you happy and if someone wants to pay you for having fun, then that's your extra special, little life bonus :)
Sometimes the off duty jobs are easy and there are plenty out there. All my husband has to do is contact someone and he can have a job that night. A lot of the jobs require little effort. The officer can just watch a building for security purposes. They can sit in their cars, read books and watch movies to pass the time until their time is over or if something happened. I wish nurses had those options! We can use our expertise in many ways! I wish nurses had the option to have a chill off duty gig for about the same wage we make hourly on our regular jobs.
It's easy for my husband to say, "Can you work more?" because for him...working more is usually not really "working." For me to work more, it would likely mean to get another job, and ideally, an additional PRN job because that's where the most money is made. But with the PRN job means applying and interviewing, if you get that far, then waiting for the call back to be hired. Next, you'd go through orientation...and you'd start working. You would go to this PRN job likely after you've worked a full week on your regular unit and if the nurses were friends of yours, they wouldn't give you the most difficult patients because you're only there every once in a while. Some days may be slow but there are days when you would bust your ass and take names. My point, having an additional nursing job is not as easy as a police officer's "extra job." So I've been doing some thinking and I'm definitely a woman who looks for better solutions to life's problems. There is always a better way if you're not happy with something in your life or when things just need to be tweaked a little.
I started to ponder and think...something I do too much. Then I asked myself, "What would be my ideal way to make extra money?" Something effortless, fun, easy and enjoyable. Something that defines who I am, like a hobby! I did some research on those jobs...nothing nursing related showed up in the search results! Imagine that. I was waiting for the feeling of. "YES! That would be fun!" and I found it.
People who know me well, know I love animals. I could never work for a vet or a shelter, however. If I'm going to have a second job, it has to be a happy environment, all the time. I researched animal jobs and found some places where they board animals when people go on vacations. I thought this would be a wonderful place to spend my free time! The drawback was the pay rates. Obviously, you can't make a nurses salary walking dogs and playing with cats. That's something I'm ok with and believe it or not, my husband is, too. The extra income would be small, but it's still extra income.
What matters the most to me is that I would enjoy it. We all should do things we LOVE and if you get paid in the process, that's only the added benefit. We should have hobbies and surround ourselves with people, places and things that make us smile and bring joy to our world. Work doesn't have to be work if it brings you a special purpose. Many may not understand what I'm saying or why I would want to make extra money working with animals, but it's not about what others think. It's about me and anyone reading this. We go through life doing things we don't like. We go to jobs we hate. We marry people for the wrong reasons. We are depressed, anxious, tired. We often times neglect what we really want out of life, work at some place because we are obligated and want a big paycheck. But to me, it's the little things and it's about enjoying life. I have my career which I love and it's my passion, that's already been established. My job makes me happy. I love the patients and my co-workers but if having another job means less time with my husband, being more tired from working more hours and just bringing additional stress, then it's not worth it.
I'll close with this...
Find a career that you love, then work on you, define yourself with friends, hobbies and things that make you happy and if someone wants to pay you for having fun, then that's your extra special, little life bonus :)
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Back on Topic Now!
So lately, if you've been reading along, you may have noticed the last couple of posts have been not about NICU nursing. There has been so much going on lately and I've needed to take care of myself but now that we're back at the swing of things, I'll make a post about none other than one of the greatest things in my life, MY JOB AS A NICU NURSE! There has been a lot going on at the farm, but not a lot of admissions. We've hit a lull in babies, especially the micro-preemies and critical babies. I hadn't had a difficult baby in a long time and then I got one. A one on one. Everything went well though, I was nervous because not only has it been forever since I had a one on one, but I also have never had an art line and a baby on Versed and Fentanyl. Those are the babies that remind me why I do what I do... and when the night with them goes well, I feel like Superwoman walking out of the unit after a long shift! When everything with that baby moves in the positive direction: ABGs are great, so we wean, labs are good, no apnea, bradys or desats etc...it can be great for a nurses morale because you feel like you've fixed the current problems for the night. Yes, the baby has a long way to go but you've contributed positively in it's care. It's a great feeling when things go in your favor.
But what about when things don't go in your favor no matter what you do? It can be awful and make you feel like a bad nurse. You take it home and can't shake the questions...what if I would've just did this or why did that happen? Sometimes it's not about what you do or could do, it's just the baby. Then another element to your hectic shift, the oncoming nurse comes to you for report and you have to tell her the mess she's just walked into. She huffs and puffs and questions you, you being the new nurse and she the oldest, of course she knows everything and obviously more than you! But you go home and beat yourself up, maybe cry a little but tomorrow is a new day. Things happen and you move on. You do the best you can and if you've given it your all, then that's what matters. No matter what the next nurse says about your care. You can't take it personal and should stand up for yourself!
... I'll end with that. :)
But what about when things don't go in your favor no matter what you do? It can be awful and make you feel like a bad nurse. You take it home and can't shake the questions...what if I would've just did this or why did that happen? Sometimes it's not about what you do or could do, it's just the baby. Then another element to your hectic shift, the oncoming nurse comes to you for report and you have to tell her the mess she's just walked into. She huffs and puffs and questions you, you being the new nurse and she the oldest, of course she knows everything and obviously more than you! But you go home and beat yourself up, maybe cry a little but tomorrow is a new day. Things happen and you move on. You do the best you can and if you've given it your all, then that's what matters. No matter what the next nurse says about your care. You can't take it personal and should stand up for yourself!
... I'll end with that. :)
To My Dad
It’s not just what you did that day, it’s what you’ve done for 29 years. You’ve taught me that my opinion never mattered to you and you’ve always downplayed my emotions when you were mad at me. You think I haven’t listened to you. You think there is something wrong with ME. But what you fail to see is that I have tried and I’m normal.
I’ve tried to have a relationship with you since I was born and you whooped me with a belt and made me pee on myself when I wouldn’t stop crying as a baby. I have tried since I was in elementary school and you whooped me for not getting my multiplication tables correct. I’ve tried since middle school when I was in 7th grade and you told me the only way I could get a CD was if I got rid of my acne. I have tried to accept you for who you are but you will never accept me for who I am. I've tried for you, but always neglecting my needs in the process. I’ve continued to try and trust that you can give me what I need out of a dad, but through the last 29 years you’ve continuously let me down. You’ve hurt me so bad but then act like it never happened. You’ve tried to buy my love with clothes and tell me to say how great of a dad you are.
I always thought that once I was old enough you would understand me. You would accept me for the individual I am, for the beautiful daughter I’ve grown into. But you don’t no matter how much you say you do. You can’t accept me. You don’t have it in you. I have no hope in you, even if you were to read this. You can’t see the emotional cycle you’ve put me through in this life. You do no wrong in your eyes.
I don’t trust you. I told you the last time you blew up on me, that you can’t say things you don’t mean. You say hurtful, hurtful, horrible things that I can’t forget. You don’t apologize, instead you offer money. I told you last time you blew up on me that this was my last straw. I warned you. I’ve given you chance after chance after chance. I’m out.
I had no choice but to be around you growing up, but now I have a choice and you don’t like it. You can’t control me in any way, shape or form and you cannot take one OUNCE of credit for me today. You’ve given me one thing. You’ve given me the knowledge to not ever rely on anyone without expecting something in return. You’ve ruined my idea of what it’s like to trust someone when they give out of the goodness of their heart because you never did that. You gave money and expected verbal praise. You had no control over my successes no matter how much you think that where I am today is because of you...that’s just another one of your characteristics of your mental disorder. Another is that you think you’re God’s gift to the world and your children.
The best thing about being me today is that I don’t NEED you or anybody to take care of me. It became the most liberating feeling to only have to rely on me. I feel like a freed slave. A slave that’s free from the shackles of control, judgements, money, conformity and having no voice. I can be me and not give a damn. I can be me and not have to worry if I’m doing what you want me to do or if it looks right in your eyes. I can make my own choices. I can choose who to love and have in my life, as well. What I don’t choose is to continue to have you put me down and think you can hurt me over and over. What I have chosen is the acceptance that you will never change. I have accepted that I will never have the dad that I want or thought I had. I have accepted that you will never apologize for the things you’ve said or acknowledge that you were ever wrong at one point in time. I’ve also accepted the most important thing...I don’t trust you. I don’t trust you won’t hurt me again even if by some chance in heaven you begged and pleaded saying you would never cause me chaos and you loved me for who I am, that you accept me and my life and won’t try to change me. You’re word means as much to me as the next passing stranger.
You’re not the dad I thought I knew. I don’t know you at all. I don’t like the person you are nor how you’ve treated me. You’ve messed me up in so many ways, you couldn’t even begin to make up for the losses you’ve cause me. Today, however, is a new day. It’s a day of revelation and a day of acceptance of the truth of things. It’s a day that I choose me and claim my own happiness. It’s a day of mourning over the loss of what I’ve tried to have for 29 years. It’s a day of sadness but with that sadness is a beam of light. The light being my liberation of no longer letting you hurt me, that it’s not ok anymore and if that means loving you at a distance, then so be it. If it means not having you in my life to reclaim my happiness then that’s ok. I choose to be happy and surround myself with people who love me for me and bring positivity in their relationships with me.
If you read this, you’d say I was insane (as usual). You’d put a guilt trip on me, saying, “how could you not have your dad in your life?” When the question you should be asking is, “why did you let your daughters slip away?” Why would you do that? Why would you let that happen? How can you not accept your wrong and try to be better when I’ve tried so hard for so long to be how you wanted me to be and could never win? I’m done fighting now. I don’t have any left. So the best thing for me to do is learn from your example. People say you can’t pick your family, which is true. But just because they are your family, doesn’t mean you can let them take advantage of you. You don’t have a free pass. Well, you did, but you don’t anymore.
I’ve tried to have a relationship with you since I was born and you whooped me with a belt and made me pee on myself when I wouldn’t stop crying as a baby. I have tried since I was in elementary school and you whooped me for not getting my multiplication tables correct. I’ve tried since middle school when I was in 7th grade and you told me the only way I could get a CD was if I got rid of my acne. I have tried to accept you for who you are but you will never accept me for who I am. I've tried for you, but always neglecting my needs in the process. I’ve continued to try and trust that you can give me what I need out of a dad, but through the last 29 years you’ve continuously let me down. You’ve hurt me so bad but then act like it never happened. You’ve tried to buy my love with clothes and tell me to say how great of a dad you are.
I always thought that once I was old enough you would understand me. You would accept me for the individual I am, for the beautiful daughter I’ve grown into. But you don’t no matter how much you say you do. You can’t accept me. You don’t have it in you. I have no hope in you, even if you were to read this. You can’t see the emotional cycle you’ve put me through in this life. You do no wrong in your eyes.
I don’t trust you. I told you the last time you blew up on me, that you can’t say things you don’t mean. You say hurtful, hurtful, horrible things that I can’t forget. You don’t apologize, instead you offer money. I told you last time you blew up on me that this was my last straw. I warned you. I’ve given you chance after chance after chance. I’m out.
I had no choice but to be around you growing up, but now I have a choice and you don’t like it. You can’t control me in any way, shape or form and you cannot take one OUNCE of credit for me today. You’ve given me one thing. You’ve given me the knowledge to not ever rely on anyone without expecting something in return. You’ve ruined my idea of what it’s like to trust someone when they give out of the goodness of their heart because you never did that. You gave money and expected verbal praise. You had no control over my successes no matter how much you think that where I am today is because of you...that’s just another one of your characteristics of your mental disorder. Another is that you think you’re God’s gift to the world and your children.
The best thing about being me today is that I don’t NEED you or anybody to take care of me. It became the most liberating feeling to only have to rely on me. I feel like a freed slave. A slave that’s free from the shackles of control, judgements, money, conformity and having no voice. I can be me and not give a damn. I can be me and not have to worry if I’m doing what you want me to do or if it looks right in your eyes. I can make my own choices. I can choose who to love and have in my life, as well. What I don’t choose is to continue to have you put me down and think you can hurt me over and over. What I have chosen is the acceptance that you will never change. I have accepted that I will never have the dad that I want or thought I had. I have accepted that you will never apologize for the things you’ve said or acknowledge that you were ever wrong at one point in time. I’ve also accepted the most important thing...I don’t trust you. I don’t trust you won’t hurt me again even if by some chance in heaven you begged and pleaded saying you would never cause me chaos and you loved me for who I am, that you accept me and my life and won’t try to change me. You’re word means as much to me as the next passing stranger.
You’re not the dad I thought I knew. I don’t know you at all. I don’t like the person you are nor how you’ve treated me. You’ve messed me up in so many ways, you couldn’t even begin to make up for the losses you’ve cause me. Today, however, is a new day. It’s a day of revelation and a day of acceptance of the truth of things. It’s a day that I choose me and claim my own happiness. It’s a day of mourning over the loss of what I’ve tried to have for 29 years. It’s a day of sadness but with that sadness is a beam of light. The light being my liberation of no longer letting you hurt me, that it’s not ok anymore and if that means loving you at a distance, then so be it. If it means not having you in my life to reclaim my happiness then that’s ok. I choose to be happy and surround myself with people who love me for me and bring positivity in their relationships with me.
If you read this, you’d say I was insane (as usual). You’d put a guilt trip on me, saying, “how could you not have your dad in your life?” When the question you should be asking is, “why did you let your daughters slip away?” Why would you do that? Why would you let that happen? How can you not accept your wrong and try to be better when I’ve tried so hard for so long to be how you wanted me to be and could never win? I’m done fighting now. I don’t have any left. So the best thing for me to do is learn from your example. People say you can’t pick your family, which is true. But just because they are your family, doesn’t mean you can let them take advantage of you. You don’t have a free pass. Well, you did, but you don’t anymore.
Sunday, June 30, 2013
Losing Gus
I know this has nothing to do with NICU nursing, but I felt it necessary for myself to write about my experience on Friday (June 28th, 2013)...possibly to help me cope. Thursday night I was working in the NICU and my Sister texted me early in my shift to tell me that our 18-year-old cat, Gus was not doing well. He had been experiencing issues with lethargy and my Mom took him to the vet, only to find out his kidney values were about zero. We thought, since he's otherwise healthy, and his other lab values were great, that subQ fluids and meds may help him. So for about a week my Mom was able to give him subQ fluids in hopes to help the toxins flush out of his kidneys. We thought we may get a few more months out of Gus, or maybe a year. He was always a healthy cat. He had a beautiful fluffy coat and a tail like a fox. His blood work was great...it was just his kidneys that weren't working.
We picked Gus out of a litter of kittens from our Aunt's Cat, Precious. He was the runt. I was 10-years-old, my Sister, 4. We are now 28 and 22. Gus was one of the sweetest cats one could ever have the pleasure of owning. Dog people liked Gus. He was an indoor-outdoor cat, and on his trips into the "wild," we'd often see him on a neighbors car. At one time in his life, our neighbor came over to ask us if we had a fluffy black and white cat because Gus was lying in his hallway of his house one afternoon! He was everyone's "buddy." He'd lay in your arms like a baby and cuddle with you. He more trusting of other people/animals than most cats. He loved us and showed us in those little small or large kitty ways. If you were holding him, at times, he would look deep into your eyes and slowly lift his head to your chin and take a soft nibble. It was like his kisses...He'd often bring us presents from the wilderness to our porch. There is no other way to show your pet cares for you than to bring you a half regurgitated bird, snake or some other rodent.
As the older sister, I'd often observe my sister outside with Gus and our other pets at the time, Tracy (Dog), Sam (Cat), and Sabrina (Cat) aka "Bing Bing." I'd see her running across the wood-line with all four animals following in a line behind her. They had little adventures. Before we moved to the suburbs of Indiana, we lived in a house with a large, dusty attic with no floor, just floor beams and insulation. We tried to keep it closed up, but Gus and Sam would always try to find a way in. They were so curious to what was on the other side of that attic door and it would scare me because it wasn't safe. I know they had been in the attic when they would be walking around with their fur so dusty and gray, they'd almost look like different cats! Sam and Gus were best friends until Sam passed away in 2007. They'd sit and look out the windows, go outside and play and only come in when it was storming. Then they'd clean each others sopping wet coats and fall asleep curled around each other. Sam was just as sweet of a cat as Gus and when Sam passed away, you could see the sadness in a cats eyes. People think animals don't have emotions, but they can feel and love just as much as humans. After Sam passed, we lost our Dog, Tracy. Just a few months ago "Bing Bing" passed away, too. And now my Sister and I were facing putting down our last pet of our childhood.
When my Sister texted me the bad news, I was working and distracted by my tasks and crying babies so I really didn't grasp the concept until about 0400 when all things died down. The quiet time. The worst time for a person experiencing a traumatic event or stressful time in their life. I sat down and pulled my phone out of my pocket, to check the latest Facebook posts and weather and it hit me. I felt alone. No one could understand. I wanted to cry and my eyes would water and I had that lump in my throat but I held back. I didn't want people to know I was hurting. I was hurting for all of us; Gus, my Mom and my Sister. Knowing what we were about to experience. We'd been through it before with our other pets and it was just as hard, but this time the feeling was gut-wrenching. I'm not sure why. Possibly because Gus had outlived all of our other animals. Sitting in that chair that night at work, I thought, the last piece of my childhood was about to be gone. All of those memories with Gus and the others...were going to be just that. Memories. All the times we spent laughing about our pets were going to be filled with tears of sadness.
Finally, my shift ended. I walked to my car and as soon as I pulled out of the parking garage, I sobbed all the way home. I knew trying to sleep today would be my enemy and I had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon. As I laid in bed, all these emotions and thoughts flooded my head. My stomach hurt. I felt nauseous, shaky, dizzy...just sick. Yeah, I didn't sleep or eat. I went to my doctors appointment in a zombie-like state after being awake for almost 24 hrs. I was walking to my car to go home and my Sister called me to tell me it was time. I arrived to my Mom's house to find my Mom holding Gus, who was wrapped up in a blanket and my sister standing next to them. I saw Gus and kissed his head. He looked so helpless and he could barely walk, breathe or meow. Mom said his condition only got worse despite fluids and meds.
My sister and I rode in my car and my Mom in hers. As my sister was in the backseat, she held Gus and I could hear him meow. She would comfort him and I'd watch her through my rear-view mirror. It was so sad. Upon arriving at the noisy vet office, we sat in the waiting room for awhile and people would ask us about Gus. When we told them the situation, they'd offer their condolences then leave with their healthy pets. At times I thought, how unfair is it? Why do animals have to get old? Why can't they live forever? I wished that I could rewind time and have Gus and all my pets healthy again. We went to the room where we'd say our goodbyes and were greeting by this pretty talking bird. He'd say, "Hello." and "How are you?" He'd ring a bell while he was eating and we laughed. It was a pleasant distraction from what we were about to endure. At one time, he walked across the top of his cage and looked down at Gus...he knew.
The Vet inserted an IV into Gus's arm to administer what she said was an overdose of an anesthetic. She said half of the dose would put him into an unconscious state and the other half would stop his heart. I cried when she said that. (Writing this makes my heart race and brings back that sickening feeling). We put him in a blanket on the table and gathered around him were my Sister and I, her boyfriend, Zach, my Mom, the Doctor and another person that I believe was a Vet Tech. We kissed Gus's head and told him it was okay to go. We said he can go see Sam and Sabrina. We told him we loved him and he was the king of all cats. We pet his head, kissed him and he looked at me with those big eyes, this time I could see the old age and cataracts in them. He looked scared and moved a bit but I reassured him it was okay. Then I saw in his eyes, life disappear. I knew he was gone without the vet telling me. I could barely contain my emotions and sobbed. My sister grabbed my hand and the vet placed the stethoscope to his fluffy chest and said, "He's gone."
Wrapped in a blanket he lay there lifeless, but we were still petting him like he was alive. He didn't look...dead. He looked peaceful. I didn't want to leave him...(we made arrangements for him to be cremated.) We left the vet with tears in our eyes and heavy, heavy hearts. I drove home and cried as I talked to my husband. I got home and attempted a nap. I knew tomorrow it was back to reality. We had a grad party and double date and I didn't know how I would handle being around people. I didn't want to go, but I made myself. My husband let me grieve for a day...he thought I'd be back to my bubbly self and didn't seem to understand my sadness the day after. He even asked me what was wrong. I snapped and said, "WE JUST PUT GUS TO SLEEP!" I got a lot of support from family and friends on Facebook, but still feel that no one can really understand unless Gus was your pet. Mom said it's like my Sister and I lost a brother.
I put on a smile around people but as soon as I'm alone it turns to sadness. I know it takes time and the sorrow I feel today will be replaced with all of the pleasant memories of Gus and the others. Time is my friend right now. I prayed to God to get my family and I through this and to take care of Gus. I know he's with my grandparents right now, who were not cat lovers, but he's probably looking at them with those loving eyes and nibbling on their chins. They are probably petting him, telling him how awesome and beautiful he is while admiring his fluffy fox tail. Although my heart is broken, I was blessed with three of the best cats to have in any child's life.
"As the angels sing an old Hank Williams song, time marches, on time marches on..."
-Tracy Lawrence
~In memory of Gus, Sam, Sabrina and Tracy.
We picked Gus out of a litter of kittens from our Aunt's Cat, Precious. He was the runt. I was 10-years-old, my Sister, 4. We are now 28 and 22. Gus was one of the sweetest cats one could ever have the pleasure of owning. Dog people liked Gus. He was an indoor-outdoor cat, and on his trips into the "wild," we'd often see him on a neighbors car. At one time in his life, our neighbor came over to ask us if we had a fluffy black and white cat because Gus was lying in his hallway of his house one afternoon! He was everyone's "buddy." He'd lay in your arms like a baby and cuddle with you. He more trusting of other people/animals than most cats. He loved us and showed us in those little small or large kitty ways. If you were holding him, at times, he would look deep into your eyes and slowly lift his head to your chin and take a soft nibble. It was like his kisses...He'd often bring us presents from the wilderness to our porch. There is no other way to show your pet cares for you than to bring you a half regurgitated bird, snake or some other rodent.
As the older sister, I'd often observe my sister outside with Gus and our other pets at the time, Tracy (Dog), Sam (Cat), and Sabrina (Cat) aka "Bing Bing." I'd see her running across the wood-line with all four animals following in a line behind her. They had little adventures. Before we moved to the suburbs of Indiana, we lived in a house with a large, dusty attic with no floor, just floor beams and insulation. We tried to keep it closed up, but Gus and Sam would always try to find a way in. They were so curious to what was on the other side of that attic door and it would scare me because it wasn't safe. I know they had been in the attic when they would be walking around with their fur so dusty and gray, they'd almost look like different cats! Sam and Gus were best friends until Sam passed away in 2007. They'd sit and look out the windows, go outside and play and only come in when it was storming. Then they'd clean each others sopping wet coats and fall asleep curled around each other. Sam was just as sweet of a cat as Gus and when Sam passed away, you could see the sadness in a cats eyes. People think animals don't have emotions, but they can feel and love just as much as humans. After Sam passed, we lost our Dog, Tracy. Just a few months ago "Bing Bing" passed away, too. And now my Sister and I were facing putting down our last pet of our childhood.
When my Sister texted me the bad news, I was working and distracted by my tasks and crying babies so I really didn't grasp the concept until about 0400 when all things died down. The quiet time. The worst time for a person experiencing a traumatic event or stressful time in their life. I sat down and pulled my phone out of my pocket, to check the latest Facebook posts and weather and it hit me. I felt alone. No one could understand. I wanted to cry and my eyes would water and I had that lump in my throat but I held back. I didn't want people to know I was hurting. I was hurting for all of us; Gus, my Mom and my Sister. Knowing what we were about to experience. We'd been through it before with our other pets and it was just as hard, but this time the feeling was gut-wrenching. I'm not sure why. Possibly because Gus had outlived all of our other animals. Sitting in that chair that night at work, I thought, the last piece of my childhood was about to be gone. All of those memories with Gus and the others...were going to be just that. Memories. All the times we spent laughing about our pets were going to be filled with tears of sadness.
Finally, my shift ended. I walked to my car and as soon as I pulled out of the parking garage, I sobbed all the way home. I knew trying to sleep today would be my enemy and I had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon. As I laid in bed, all these emotions and thoughts flooded my head. My stomach hurt. I felt nauseous, shaky, dizzy...just sick. Yeah, I didn't sleep or eat. I went to my doctors appointment in a zombie-like state after being awake for almost 24 hrs. I was walking to my car to go home and my Sister called me to tell me it was time. I arrived to my Mom's house to find my Mom holding Gus, who was wrapped up in a blanket and my sister standing next to them. I saw Gus and kissed his head. He looked so helpless and he could barely walk, breathe or meow. Mom said his condition only got worse despite fluids and meds.
My sister and I rode in my car and my Mom in hers. As my sister was in the backseat, she held Gus and I could hear him meow. She would comfort him and I'd watch her through my rear-view mirror. It was so sad. Upon arriving at the noisy vet office, we sat in the waiting room for awhile and people would ask us about Gus. When we told them the situation, they'd offer their condolences then leave with their healthy pets. At times I thought, how unfair is it? Why do animals have to get old? Why can't they live forever? I wished that I could rewind time and have Gus and all my pets healthy again. We went to the room where we'd say our goodbyes and were greeting by this pretty talking bird. He'd say, "Hello." and "How are you?" He'd ring a bell while he was eating and we laughed. It was a pleasant distraction from what we were about to endure. At one time, he walked across the top of his cage and looked down at Gus...he knew.
The Vet inserted an IV into Gus's arm to administer what she said was an overdose of an anesthetic. She said half of the dose would put him into an unconscious state and the other half would stop his heart. I cried when she said that. (Writing this makes my heart race and brings back that sickening feeling). We put him in a blanket on the table and gathered around him were my Sister and I, her boyfriend, Zach, my Mom, the Doctor and another person that I believe was a Vet Tech. We kissed Gus's head and told him it was okay to go. We said he can go see Sam and Sabrina. We told him we loved him and he was the king of all cats. We pet his head, kissed him and he looked at me with those big eyes, this time I could see the old age and cataracts in them. He looked scared and moved a bit but I reassured him it was okay. Then I saw in his eyes, life disappear. I knew he was gone without the vet telling me. I could barely contain my emotions and sobbed. My sister grabbed my hand and the vet placed the stethoscope to his fluffy chest and said, "He's gone."
Wrapped in a blanket he lay there lifeless, but we were still petting him like he was alive. He didn't look...dead. He looked peaceful. I didn't want to leave him...(we made arrangements for him to be cremated.) We left the vet with tears in our eyes and heavy, heavy hearts. I drove home and cried as I talked to my husband. I got home and attempted a nap. I knew tomorrow it was back to reality. We had a grad party and double date and I didn't know how I would handle being around people. I didn't want to go, but I made myself. My husband let me grieve for a day...he thought I'd be back to my bubbly self and didn't seem to understand my sadness the day after. He even asked me what was wrong. I snapped and said, "WE JUST PUT GUS TO SLEEP!" I got a lot of support from family and friends on Facebook, but still feel that no one can really understand unless Gus was your pet. Mom said it's like my Sister and I lost a brother.
I put on a smile around people but as soon as I'm alone it turns to sadness. I know it takes time and the sorrow I feel today will be replaced with all of the pleasant memories of Gus and the others. Time is my friend right now. I prayed to God to get my family and I through this and to take care of Gus. I know he's with my grandparents right now, who were not cat lovers, but he's probably looking at them with those loving eyes and nibbling on their chins. They are probably petting him, telling him how awesome and beautiful he is while admiring his fluffy fox tail. Although my heart is broken, I was blessed with three of the best cats to have in any child's life.
"As the angels sing an old Hank Williams song, time marches, on time marches on..."
-Tracy Lawrence
~In memory of Gus, Sam, Sabrina and Tracy.
| Gus (mostly white), Sam (Orange), "Bing Bing (mostly black) |
Monday, May 20, 2013
Being a Nurse Has Made Me a Homebody? (Personal topic)
It's been awhile since I've posted, but I was busy getting married, going on a honeymoon amongst many other things and as always, working! I also now, have a sick animal at home but hopefully with the meds he's on he will be better in no time! Him being sick has stressed me out a lot the past 24 hrs or so and that has led me to write this post. My husband has recently made remarks of how much more of a "homebody" I have become in the past few years (We've been together for a little over six years). I have noticed that, too. I feel like it started when I decided to go back to school and become a nurse. I did an accelerated 1 yr. BSN program at a tough and expensive private school. As mentioned in an earlier post, it was the most stressful time in my life and as menial as it may seem, the sudden sickness of my pet has brought up those feelings of stress again. Constant worry, a feeling deep in my stomach of utter pain. My pet is my baby. Nursing school was a similar stress because if you fail a test or you get below a certain percentage in a class, you were out. That was it. You had to wait a year to restart the program and I wasn't about to do that. I didn't have a year...my husband, then fiance had already established his career and was waiting on mine for financial reasons. He was very supportive and my super hero through school. Plus, we couldn't get married until we had money for the wedding that I wanted. I couldn't fail. I couldn't wait any longer. That gut wrenching feeling that I'm feeling today with my pet being sick, had me in it's grips the whole year of nursing school. It aged me 5 years at least. I didn't fail, thank God! But I did gain something else along with a degree...15lbs! I eventually lost the weight or most of it. I'd never really experienced stress like this before and before school, I liked to go and go. Always doing something. Outgoing for the most part and had a good attitude about life. Then I became a nurse.
After school, I started working within four weeks after graduation. My job in the NICU was nothing like starting old jobs I had and they don't teach you about the NICU in school. I was fresh and scared out of my mind for the first.....well, I'm still scared on some admissions and I've been there a year on June 4th. The seasoned nurses would say, "It takes at least 2 yrs to feel like you have a grip on things." Jeeeez...They were right. On top of the stress of school and a new job I became less social. I hadn't really noticed it except maybe in the last year. I don't like to be around big groups of people. I'd much rather be in a one-on-one conversation when socializing. I'm ok at work. I can talk to co-workers or patients without hesitation, however some days I'm more social than others. It all depends on what I have going on in my life at the time. I also work third shift which means I don't function when people normally function. I have grown accustomed to peace and quiet, rather than drinking/dancing my stresses away at a bar with a whole bunch of drunk people and loud music. My stress makes me want to just simply be home, on my couch, watching Netflix or something. I would rather visit with my sister, who is my best friend, rather than my extended family. My husband is a cop and there is always some social gathering going on in the cop world. I've turned down invitations to those more than I have gone to them. Plus, my husband who is opposite of me in terms of social interaction, (he's a social butterfly) works a lot. We both work a lot to pay down our student loan debts because we wish to purchase a home in the next 2 years. I'd rather spend precious off time with him alone when we get the chance. I've also turned down invitations to family functions, with the exception of major holidays, because I've sometimes found social interaction mentally draining. Even just going out of the house to grocery shop alone or going to the mall alone is too much sometimes. I avoid it unless I absolutely have to. I think this job and the rigorous path to get there has changed me. I love the job...I can handle the job. I'd just rather be at home when I don't have to work. My husband and I are great together. He brings out the social butterfly in me at times. Deep down, it's still in there. When he's with me I don't care to go to the grocery or shopping. I like running errands with him or anyone for that matter, but not alone.
I'm still figuring this out. I'm puzzled. If it's me just getting older and my priorities have changed, maybe? Sometimes I feel being a nurse takes a lot out of me that I don't have much left, plus I'm tired a lot because of working 3rd shift. It doesn't really bother me that I'm a homebody, but I don't want it to change the relationships between my family members and I. My mother is a homebody.....uh oh. I could be turning into her! Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I'd like insight on this if anyone has felt this way and you are a nurse or have a stressful job, I'd like to know. You may comment below if you feel you can relate. Thank you!
After school, I started working within four weeks after graduation. My job in the NICU was nothing like starting old jobs I had and they don't teach you about the NICU in school. I was fresh and scared out of my mind for the first.....well, I'm still scared on some admissions and I've been there a year on June 4th. The seasoned nurses would say, "It takes at least 2 yrs to feel like you have a grip on things." Jeeeez...They were right. On top of the stress of school and a new job I became less social. I hadn't really noticed it except maybe in the last year. I don't like to be around big groups of people. I'd much rather be in a one-on-one conversation when socializing. I'm ok at work. I can talk to co-workers or patients without hesitation, however some days I'm more social than others. It all depends on what I have going on in my life at the time. I also work third shift which means I don't function when people normally function. I have grown accustomed to peace and quiet, rather than drinking/dancing my stresses away at a bar with a whole bunch of drunk people and loud music. My stress makes me want to just simply be home, on my couch, watching Netflix or something. I would rather visit with my sister, who is my best friend, rather than my extended family. My husband is a cop and there is always some social gathering going on in the cop world. I've turned down invitations to those more than I have gone to them. Plus, my husband who is opposite of me in terms of social interaction, (he's a social butterfly) works a lot. We both work a lot to pay down our student loan debts because we wish to purchase a home in the next 2 years. I'd rather spend precious off time with him alone when we get the chance. I've also turned down invitations to family functions, with the exception of major holidays, because I've sometimes found social interaction mentally draining. Even just going out of the house to grocery shop alone or going to the mall alone is too much sometimes. I avoid it unless I absolutely have to. I think this job and the rigorous path to get there has changed me. I love the job...I can handle the job. I'd just rather be at home when I don't have to work. My husband and I are great together. He brings out the social butterfly in me at times. Deep down, it's still in there. When he's with me I don't care to go to the grocery or shopping. I like running errands with him or anyone for that matter, but not alone.
I'm still figuring this out. I'm puzzled. If it's me just getting older and my priorities have changed, maybe? Sometimes I feel being a nurse takes a lot out of me that I don't have much left, plus I'm tired a lot because of working 3rd shift. It doesn't really bother me that I'm a homebody, but I don't want it to change the relationships between my family members and I. My mother is a homebody.....uh oh. I could be turning into her! Which isn't necessarily a bad thing. I'd like insight on this if anyone has felt this way and you are a nurse or have a stressful job, I'd like to know. You may comment below if you feel you can relate. Thank you!
Monday, April 22, 2013
Just a few random thoughts...
This past weekend was fairly slow in the NICU. Sometimes I enjoy the slow nights because they are quiet and less stressful, but time creeps by. I was on first admission, but never got one. One of the topics I wanted to write about were how many NAS babies we have. We have had so many over the past few months. I wonder if this is a trend for other hospitals, too. I'm assuming so. NAS babies are challenging to say the least...we have some that constantly cry when you hold them and try to console them. Nothing helps until they wear themselves out and fall asleep. The cries are high pitched screeching. It sounds like a pterodactyl! I've often said, I wish we were allowed to wear earplugs when we are assessing these babies. Every time I have a bad one, I get a headache. I always make sure I have some Excedrin or Ibuprofen on hand at work, that's for sure. Some of these babies are on so many different combinations of meds, it's unreal. Then you have the foster parents, God bless them!! There is absolutely no way I could foster an NAS baby. And some of the foster parents have other NAS kids already at home with them. My hat goes off to the foster fams!
In the beginning of your job in the NICU, as a new nurse you will feel overwhelmed and stressed. You will feel that you are in a totally different world. In a code or emergency you won't know what to do. Sometimes you may think, "What am I doing here?" "I can't do this." "This may not be the job for me." A million things will be going through your head. Once you think you are in control and feel like you're getting the hang of babies, they will throw you for a loop and you will feel back to square one. Every day is a learning process and if you really love babies, hang in there. Honestly, consider yourself lucky to be working in the NICU. These jobs are competitive and your fellow co-workers and managers saw something special in you when they made the decision to hire you. Working in the NICU has been such a blessing for myself. It takes a special person and people think so highly of you. When I go home in the morning after a long shift, I get so much value out of the work that I've done. The other thing is, once you've been in the NICU for awhile and the first year jitters start to wear off, you can start bonding with babies. When I first started, I was so focused on my task and not making mistakes that I forgot that I was working on a precious baby. A life, my patient. Now I can take the time to step back and see their little personalities and mannerisms. It's rewarding, when you see a baby you've coded, go home healthy and happy to a wonderful mom and dad who are so thankful that you've helped save their baby's life. I've bonded with a few babies. I remember a baby...he was so sweet and good. I told him that when I have children, I hope they are like him. After feeding him, I would swaddle him tightly, lay him on my shoulder and rock him to sleep while he sucked his thumb. I'd never seen a preemie suck their thumb before. It was adorable. He'd fall asleep and I'd pat his back and rock him. You can't do that with adults! :)
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Just Another Day In a NICU
An amazing video of a typical NICU admission. It's interesting to see how other hospitals handle an admission and it's so similar to how my unit functions as well! This type of stuff is what makes my job! Love it!
You Might Be A NICU Nurse If...
Of course I had to post this...I think I've actually blogged about a couple of these! :) (This is taken from a post on allnurses.com
You might be a NICU nurse if...
*You scrub your hands like a surgeon
*You measure age, not in years, but in weeks and adjusted weeks.
*You plan your day in 3 hour increments.
*You believe that unspeakable evils will befall you if the phrase, "wow, it is really quiet" is uttered.
*You know that ‘Snuggle-up’ is an object, and is not referring to what you do with your boyfriend on the sofa.
*Finding poop in a diaper makes you cheer because you are obsessed with NEC and suspicious all your babies have it.
*You like to give glycerine suppositories out like candy- (for same reason above).
*You recognize that feeding tubes can be time-savers.
*You hear 4 or 5 different types of all-to-familiar beeping in your sleep.
*You recognize that taping is an art-form.
*You wonder why thermometers haven’t advanced with the times...
*The admission of a 28 week antepartum patient makes you antsy.
*You could describe poop about a dozen different ways…(eg. Meconium, transitional, green, yellow, yellow-seedy, brown…)
*The IV team won’t come to your unit… YOU are the master.
*You are a breastfeeding advocate but find yourself wanting to scream, “JUST GIVE THE KID A BOTTLE!”
*You measure weight in grams, and kilos
*You've ever heard, “The parents won’t be coming in today”, and been overcome with joy.
*You know that kangarooing has nothing to do with kangaroos.
*You’ve documented the amount of ‘jiggle’…Yeah, that’s medical jargon.
*You know that “Feeder-Grower” isn’t a description of a lawn care product.
*You’ve ever referred to a baby as a ‘glow worm’.
*You're sure you could write your own “crazy baby name” book using the names of your patients.
*You’ve ever cried at the discharge of a patient, because they felt more like family.
*You take pride in making up a “cute” bed for your patient.
*You’ve been in a critical situation, where the most highly qualified physician offered you the most advice, the least support…and illegible orders.
*You believe: if the baby is quiet, be scared.
*You’re patients don’t use a call bell when they need you- instead an orchestra of 3 or more alarms of different tones get your attention.
*You’ve witnessed a preemie escape mission…they made it as far as the portholes.
*You’ve ever wished for a restraining order to protect a baby from their idiot parents.
*You believe that to refuse a baby a pacifier is cruel and unusual punishment-for both the baby, and you.
*You refer to sweet-ease as ‘a shot of happiness’.
You might be a NICU nurse if...
*You scrub your hands like a surgeon
*You measure age, not in years, but in weeks and adjusted weeks.
*You plan your day in 3 hour increments.
*You believe that unspeakable evils will befall you if the phrase, "wow, it is really quiet" is uttered.
*You know that ‘Snuggle-up’ is an object, and is not referring to what you do with your boyfriend on the sofa.
*Finding poop in a diaper makes you cheer because you are obsessed with NEC and suspicious all your babies have it.
*You like to give glycerine suppositories out like candy- (for same reason above).
*You recognize that feeding tubes can be time-savers.
*You hear 4 or 5 different types of all-to-familiar beeping in your sleep.
*You recognize that taping is an art-form.
*You wonder why thermometers haven’t advanced with the times...
*The admission of a 28 week antepartum patient makes you antsy.
*You could describe poop about a dozen different ways…(eg. Meconium, transitional, green, yellow, yellow-seedy, brown…)
*The IV team won’t come to your unit… YOU are the master.
*You are a breastfeeding advocate but find yourself wanting to scream, “JUST GIVE THE KID A BOTTLE!”
*You measure weight in grams, and kilos
*You've ever heard, “The parents won’t be coming in today”, and been overcome with joy.
*You know that kangarooing has nothing to do with kangaroos.
*You’ve documented the amount of ‘jiggle’…Yeah, that’s medical jargon.
*You know that “Feeder-Grower” isn’t a description of a lawn care product.
*You’ve ever referred to a baby as a ‘glow worm’.
*You're sure you could write your own “crazy baby name” book using the names of your patients.
*You’ve ever cried at the discharge of a patient, because they felt more like family.
*You take pride in making up a “cute” bed for your patient.
*You’ve been in a critical situation, where the most highly qualified physician offered you the most advice, the least support…and illegible orders.
*You believe: if the baby is quiet, be scared.
*You’re patients don’t use a call bell when they need you- instead an orchestra of 3 or more alarms of different tones get your attention.
*You’ve witnessed a preemie escape mission…they made it as far as the portholes.
*You’ve ever wished for a restraining order to protect a baby from their idiot parents.
*You believe that to refuse a baby a pacifier is cruel and unusual punishment-for both the baby, and you.
*You refer to sweet-ease as ‘a shot of happiness’.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Stress Management for The New Nurse!
One of the things nursing school doesn't teach you is real world problems. The problems you face that can't be solved with a textbook procedure. The times when you are screamed at by a patient or patient's family or the one time a patient's family stole from our unit while we weren't watching...Then there are the times when you have a code. A baby crashes and the nurse practitioner calls out, "Start chest compressions!" The time when a baby dies and you have to take the after death pictures. A baby extubates or it's blood sugar is 16. When you are on first delivery for the night and you have back to back admissions. On top of job stresses, you have home life stresses and hell, even your co-workers can stress you out.
As one prone to anxiety attacks, I have had to learn stress management by myself. I remember the first time something big happened when I was four days off orientation. I had a 26 weeker extubate and I just about peed my pants. I was shaking, I froze and my brain stopped working. The nurse practitioner was frustrated with me and gave me lots of heat for it. It wasn't my fault and it happens to the best of us. But I was disappointed in how I handled it. I lost sleep and it ruined the rest of my shift. I was so so stressed about it. But it was an experience that I learned from. I now know what to do when a baby extubates instead of freezing up or taking things personally and letting it affect me all night, get the bag and mask. The best thing for me was to expect the unexpected at every shift and go with the flow. Don't get too used to the quiet because that's usually when shit hits the fan. And most of all when things happen, BREATHE and just be in the moment. Focus your mind on your task and not your nerves. Control your emotions with self-talk and if you have to, cry about it later in the bathroom. Been there, done that. This is something I have to tell myself when I get to work everyday. It's going to be ok....refocus your anxieties and calm your breathing. Relax your body while your at work. Drop your shoulders if you're charting and realize they're up to your ears. When you have a minute, slow down...not everything needs to be in a panic. You will get through it.
It's just in my personality to take things personally. I'm quiet and not one to snap back when I feel that I'm being criticized negatively, thank you nurse practitioner. That's something I've worked on. I was having some issues with a baby. I was panicking and super busy. So to spread the icing on the cake, a co-worker snapped at me. Now whether or not she was being sarcastic, I was not sure. Regardless, it was rude. I froze and couldn't respond. In this moment, I couldn't understand why she was being rude to me. ME! The nice girl?!! I was already stressed, didn't she see that? It affected me in that I became so mad when I got home from my shift and I couldn't sleep because I didn't stick up for myself. All I could think were things I should have said and how I just let someone walk on my feelings again like the bullies used to in middle school (See previous blog post). This was a learning experience, too. After speaking with people that I can trust, I realized something...NOT TO CARE WHAT PEOPLE THINK! The less you care what people think is when you will feel better about snapping back. I cared so much about what she thought of me reacting to her, that I froze and couldn't say anything. But now I see things differently. I expect people to lash out at times because it's what people do. I've also reverted a little and know how to tread lightly around certain personalities. And what's the worst that could happen if I stood up for myself? The person not like me? SO WHAT?! Not everyone will like you and you won't like everyone. Nothing wrong with that! Also, when in doubt give em' the biggest, cavity-giving, sweetest smile you can muster!
As one prone to anxiety attacks, I have had to learn stress management by myself. I remember the first time something big happened when I was four days off orientation. I had a 26 weeker extubate and I just about peed my pants. I was shaking, I froze and my brain stopped working. The nurse practitioner was frustrated with me and gave me lots of heat for it. It wasn't my fault and it happens to the best of us. But I was disappointed in how I handled it. I lost sleep and it ruined the rest of my shift. I was so so stressed about it. But it was an experience that I learned from. I now know what to do when a baby extubates instead of freezing up or taking things personally and letting it affect me all night, get the bag and mask. The best thing for me was to expect the unexpected at every shift and go with the flow. Don't get too used to the quiet because that's usually when shit hits the fan. And most of all when things happen, BREATHE and just be in the moment. Focus your mind on your task and not your nerves. Control your emotions with self-talk and if you have to, cry about it later in the bathroom. Been there, done that. This is something I have to tell myself when I get to work everyday. It's going to be ok....refocus your anxieties and calm your breathing. Relax your body while your at work. Drop your shoulders if you're charting and realize they're up to your ears. When you have a minute, slow down...not everything needs to be in a panic. You will get through it.
It's just in my personality to take things personally. I'm quiet and not one to snap back when I feel that I'm being criticized negatively, thank you nurse practitioner. That's something I've worked on. I was having some issues with a baby. I was panicking and super busy. So to spread the icing on the cake, a co-worker snapped at me. Now whether or not she was being sarcastic, I was not sure. Regardless, it was rude. I froze and couldn't respond. In this moment, I couldn't understand why she was being rude to me. ME! The nice girl?!! I was already stressed, didn't she see that? It affected me in that I became so mad when I got home from my shift and I couldn't sleep because I didn't stick up for myself. All I could think were things I should have said and how I just let someone walk on my feelings again like the bullies used to in middle school (See previous blog post). This was a learning experience, too. After speaking with people that I can trust, I realized something...NOT TO CARE WHAT PEOPLE THINK! The less you care what people think is when you will feel better about snapping back. I cared so much about what she thought of me reacting to her, that I froze and couldn't say anything. But now I see things differently. I expect people to lash out at times because it's what people do. I've also reverted a little and know how to tread lightly around certain personalities. And what's the worst that could happen if I stood up for myself? The person not like me? SO WHAT?! Not everyone will like you and you won't like everyone. Nothing wrong with that! Also, when in doubt give em' the biggest, cavity-giving, sweetest smile you can muster!
Monday, April 8, 2013
Off Topic...
Just recently, I've signed up for a subscription to Netflix and I found a movie called "Bully." Not really knowing how much it would affect me, I watched it without apprehension. "You never know what a person is going through until you walk a mile in their shoes." This can never be a truer quote and it was stated in the movie. "Bully," is an awesome depiction of what happens to kids in school. They get picked on for being different...being "picked on" these days is an understatement. Kids mentally abuse other kids. They physically abuse other kids. It's absolutely horrifying to me that some of the kids portrayed in the movie committed suicide. Imagine what that kid was going through. It had to have been awful and so terrible that they could no longer take it. An 11-year-old shot himself. A 13-year-old hanged himself in his closet...his parents found him and his brother saw him, too. I just can't wrap my head around why there hasn't been anything done about this on a larger scale or why there wasn't anything done to prevent those kids from killing themselves? It doesn't make sense. Through the whole movie I was enraged...I wanted to come through the TV and smack some sense into one of the schools' principles. A boy's parents came to this principle to talk about how he was being physically and verbally assaulted on a daily basis. All the principle could do was say, "I can't promise it won't stop...." then proceeded to show them her pictures of her new grandbaby. Idiot. She seemed so fake and plastic. People don't listen to kids! This other boy was made to shake his bully's hand to make peace. Well, he didn't want to and got blamed for being just like the bully...REALLY?! The boy said, "I'm not like him because I'm not hurting him by not shaking his hand." The principle said, "Well, I think you can be friends." The boy said, "We were until he started bullying me." The principle had NOTHING to say. The same mom I mentioned earlier made a pretty good statement to the principle about being worried for her child's safety on the bus. The principle said, "I've ridden bus 54 and those kids are perfect angels...." or something of that nature. She OBVIOUSLY hadn't seen the movie yet. Perfect angels my ass... death threats? Strangling another child? Stabbing another child with pencil? Those kids sound like angels to me. The mom then said, "Why doesn't the bus driver do anything except drive? When I rode the bus, if we were to get out of hand, the bus driver would pull over until it stopped!" AMEN! When I was a kid and rode the bus, my bus drivers put the fear of God in me. At one point the bus got so rowdy, our punishment was silence for two weeks! WE COULDN'T EVEN TALK ON THE BUS! Where are those bus drivers now?
Schools and hospitals alike are all about tip-toeing around, keeping quiet, hush-hush, sweeping things under the rug. Today there are too many lawsuits and it's come down to hospitals and schools at times, not being able to take control over certain matters. Hospitals are now customer service oriented. It's called Hospital not Hilton....anyway, that's a new blog post...
Maybe I'm so enraged and appalled by the reactions of the schools is because it hits home for me. I can relate as I was bullied in middle school from 6th-8th grade and let me say, IT SUCKED! You don't have to be physically assaulted to be bullied and all that "sticks and stones" is bullshit....It's the mental abuse. In adult world you can get arrested and put in jail for some of the stuff that kids do to one another. But back to my story, I was shy and didn't stand out much. I kept to myself and had a few friends but then I started getting picked on. In a quick summary, I was humiliated and embarrassed by a boy. I was made fun of by boys and girls, talked about, backstabbed by "friends," pushed around, got picked last for P.E. games, called names, cruel jokes were played on me, sat alone at lunch, dreaded going to school, came home and cried many many times and thought about suicide many times. No one came to my rescue. No one helped me pick up my books when they fell out of my hands. I felt I had no one. The teachers didn't stop it when I told them. One of the teachers made fun of me and yelled at me for getting answers wrong, calling me a fool in front of everyone. The kids just looked and stared at me. The friends I did have didn't even stick up for me. My grades showed the affects. The only thing that happened was in 8th grade my mom came to the school...but that made things worse for me, the jokes kept coming and coming. In the midst of the bullying, I think 7th grade, I was really wore down by everything. I came home and just wanted to be alone. I went up to my room, turned on some music so no one could hear me cry, laid my head on my desk and just cried and cried. I remember going to my window and looking out and thinking for the first time as a child at 13, how great it would be if I wasn't here. If I didn't have to endure this anymore...How happy those kids would be if I were to die. Those kids kept me from believing in myself. Those bullies kept me from having high self-esteem. They made me afraid, afraid to go to school, afraid to participate in sports. They made me be afraid to be me. And people say, "You should stand up for yourself." Well, it's hard to stand up for yourself when your"self" is too weak to stand. Then you become numb....you just sit there and take it, hoping that high school will be better.
Even though those kids pushed me until I had no hope for my own life, somewhere deep inside I knew I was worth more than what those bullies defined me as. I made it through middle school and my family moved to another state. High school was better for me...better, but the damage had been done. Forever, will I have those memories of middle school. They have shaped me into who I am today, for the good and bad. I still have self-esteem problems and have suffered from anxiety and depression. I'm slow to trust anyone and I'm not a second chance giver. I'm learning as an adult to stick up for myself because at this point in my life, I have accomplished many things on my own that have given me confidence. I know that I don't have to put up with negativity from others. I can chose who I want in my life. Speaking up for myself when I sense someone is being a bully to me is a constant struggle and a learning process. One thing I have learned is how to treat people...and I know that my kids won't be bullies.
Schools and hospitals alike are all about tip-toeing around, keeping quiet, hush-hush, sweeping things under the rug. Today there are too many lawsuits and it's come down to hospitals and schools at times, not being able to take control over certain matters. Hospitals are now customer service oriented. It's called Hospital not Hilton....anyway, that's a new blog post...
Maybe I'm so enraged and appalled by the reactions of the schools is because it hits home for me. I can relate as I was bullied in middle school from 6th-8th grade and let me say, IT SUCKED! You don't have to be physically assaulted to be bullied and all that "sticks and stones" is bullshit....It's the mental abuse. In adult world you can get arrested and put in jail for some of the stuff that kids do to one another. But back to my story, I was shy and didn't stand out much. I kept to myself and had a few friends but then I started getting picked on. In a quick summary, I was humiliated and embarrassed by a boy. I was made fun of by boys and girls, talked about, backstabbed by "friends," pushed around, got picked last for P.E. games, called names, cruel jokes were played on me, sat alone at lunch, dreaded going to school, came home and cried many many times and thought about suicide many times. No one came to my rescue. No one helped me pick up my books when they fell out of my hands. I felt I had no one. The teachers didn't stop it when I told them. One of the teachers made fun of me and yelled at me for getting answers wrong, calling me a fool in front of everyone. The kids just looked and stared at me. The friends I did have didn't even stick up for me. My grades showed the affects. The only thing that happened was in 8th grade my mom came to the school...but that made things worse for me, the jokes kept coming and coming. In the midst of the bullying, I think 7th grade, I was really wore down by everything. I came home and just wanted to be alone. I went up to my room, turned on some music so no one could hear me cry, laid my head on my desk and just cried and cried. I remember going to my window and looking out and thinking for the first time as a child at 13, how great it would be if I wasn't here. If I didn't have to endure this anymore...How happy those kids would be if I were to die. Those kids kept me from believing in myself. Those bullies kept me from having high self-esteem. They made me afraid, afraid to go to school, afraid to participate in sports. They made me be afraid to be me. And people say, "You should stand up for yourself." Well, it's hard to stand up for yourself when your"self" is too weak to stand. Then you become numb....you just sit there and take it, hoping that high school will be better.
Even though those kids pushed me until I had no hope for my own life, somewhere deep inside I knew I was worth more than what those bullies defined me as. I made it through middle school and my family moved to another state. High school was better for me...better, but the damage had been done. Forever, will I have those memories of middle school. They have shaped me into who I am today, for the good and bad. I still have self-esteem problems and have suffered from anxiety and depression. I'm slow to trust anyone and I'm not a second chance giver. I'm learning as an adult to stick up for myself because at this point in my life, I have accomplished many things on my own that have given me confidence. I know that I don't have to put up with negativity from others. I can chose who I want in my life. Speaking up for myself when I sense someone is being a bully to me is a constant struggle and a learning process. One thing I have learned is how to treat people...and I know that my kids won't be bullies.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
And the Adventure Keeps Getting Better
I finally started orienting on nightshift. I was a lot more alert and the nurses were more my age. My new preceptor gave me a run for my money. We will call her Kelly. She was very intelligent and knew her sh%!. Which can sometimes be intimidating. The good thing was, I was great at asking questions if I didn't know the answer to something. Dumb or not, always ask. She was a great preceptor, but over time I became more ready to just be on my own. I was tired of having someone watch every move I made. A lot of orientation was monotonous paperwork, quizzes and checkoffs. If I wasn't busy, we would work on paperwork...that was annoying. I'd sit down and she'd pull out this my big yellow file and we'd go over what i'd learned. I WILL NOT miss that part. Towards the end of nightshift orientation, for the first time I was more than ready to be on my own. I was scared, but ready.
My whole orientation on days and nights was fair. They give the new nurses the most critical and challenging babies. I had a few but what I found really challenging were the NAS (Neonatal Abstinence Sydrome) babies. NAS is something you can't understand unless you work with a baby who is withdrawing. Imagine a situation where you have a patient whose mother did all types of drugs during her pregnancy. You've got heroin, crack to name a few but the most frequent addiction is to opiates. These babies are inconsolable, they have high pitched cries that will shatter glass, they shake uncontrollably, vomit, diarrhea and can die if weaned too fast. So not only do you deal with this baby who is almost helpless, but you may have another baby to take care of. Then there is the mother...I've found that I cannot be naive when it comes to these mom's. Most of them talk a great game, give a sob story about how they didn't know the drug would affect their baby or they just took one pill. Then on the other hand will get frustrated with the nursing staff when they realize their baby could be in the hospital for a month at the least or they don't want them to have the morphine to help the baby wean. This can be very stressful for nurses because we have to try and not be judgmental but there are a thousand things you want to say to the mother who did this to her baby.
The Newest NICU Nurse on The Unit
I was lucky enough to land a job before I graduated. I got a job in a level 3 NICU at a very busy hospital right in the heart of downtown. I was eager to start and make the big bucks or so I thought...nurses don't make crap for the work we do, but that's a whole other blog post! In school, I'd never thought about working with babies but in reality it's actually a great fit for me and my personality. I call it my "blessing in disguise." I love working with the sick and very critical preemies. It really makes me feel that I'm saving lives everyday I go to work. But let's get back to the good stuff. So, I started orienting on dayshift with a preceptor, let's just call her Diana. I've never been a dayshifter or an early riser. I hated waking up at 0500 and going to work. I was tired for the full 6 weeks of orientation. Dayshift tired is a different kind of tired. It makes me sick and I want to vomit sometimes. My position that I was hired for was nightshift so I just had to get through that 6 weeks and I'd be good, or so I thought.
My first day on orientation was extremely overwhelming. They don't have a NICU class in nursing school. I was trying to remember everything I could from my PEDS and OB class, but that was semesters behind me. In the NICU, you learn as you go and pray to God that you preceptor is great! Diana was upfront and honest with me. One of the first things she said to me was, "I'm not a morning person so if I don't say anything to you, don't take it personal." I said, "I'm the same way." It takes me a few hours to warm up to the day on dayshift, so I knew how she felt. From then on, we grew to an understanding of each other. She was a great preceptor and I've never seen such a neat and tidy incubator in my life! She was so meticulous. The cords have to be this way, the blanket needs to be straight, baby facing that way, no spots of blood, poop or pee anywhere. God forbid the lab person got a drop of blood on the blanket. This was something that I adopted after I was finished orienting. I love a neat and organized bed! The incubator is like your workplace in the office. It's your desk. I can work better when my area is neat and organized. It's also visually appealing for the parents when they look at their baby. They are already intimidated by how delicate and small their baby is, then you hook it up to wires and a ventilator...the least you can do is make your bed nice.
Dayshift is pretty different than nightshift. Most of the nurses were older and welcoming, others were standoffish. I expected that. There is this myth of "Nurses Eat Their Young." I didn't feel this way but being the youngest nurse on dayshift I felt so small and incapable. I dreaded the day when I would be on my own. It's amazing how little you know when you start, but how much you grow in one year. Not only as a nurse but as a person. I've always been the quiet, shy type. I never want to step on toes or cause conflict but nursing will make you grow a pair REAL QUICK, especially in the NICU.
My first day on orientation was extremely overwhelming. They don't have a NICU class in nursing school. I was trying to remember everything I could from my PEDS and OB class, but that was semesters behind me. In the NICU, you learn as you go and pray to God that you preceptor is great! Diana was upfront and honest with me. One of the first things she said to me was, "I'm not a morning person so if I don't say anything to you, don't take it personal." I said, "I'm the same way." It takes me a few hours to warm up to the day on dayshift, so I knew how she felt. From then on, we grew to an understanding of each other. She was a great preceptor and I've never seen such a neat and tidy incubator in my life! She was so meticulous. The cords have to be this way, the blanket needs to be straight, baby facing that way, no spots of blood, poop or pee anywhere. God forbid the lab person got a drop of blood on the blanket. This was something that I adopted after I was finished orienting. I love a neat and organized bed! The incubator is like your workplace in the office. It's your desk. I can work better when my area is neat and organized. It's also visually appealing for the parents when they look at their baby. They are already intimidated by how delicate and small their baby is, then you hook it up to wires and a ventilator...the least you can do is make your bed nice.
Dayshift is pretty different than nightshift. Most of the nurses were older and welcoming, others were standoffish. I expected that. There is this myth of "Nurses Eat Their Young." I didn't feel this way but being the youngest nurse on dayshift I felt so small and incapable. I dreaded the day when I would be on my own. It's amazing how little you know when you start, but how much you grow in one year. Not only as a nurse but as a person. I've always been the quiet, shy type. I never want to step on toes or cause conflict but nursing will make you grow a pair REAL QUICK, especially in the NICU.
The Long Overdue Blog Post
I don't know why I didn't write about my new career as a nurse a long time ago. A lot of people say they know what you go through, but few fail to actually understand what it's like as a new nurse. There are so many different transitions to go through during the first year...even the second and tenth years. As a nursing student, you really have no idea. A student is safe under the wings of her teachers and clinical instructors. They are there to make sure you make no mistakes, leaving you with a comforting feeling. Let me just tell you, all that goes out the window when you are on your own. You have your own license and your mistakes are your own. A lot of nursing students don't see the reality until they really get out there in the trenches. On our own, for real. You could lose your license or even worse, kill someone in a split second of an incorrect med calculation. The school part of nursing is stressful in itself, then when you graduate, you get to experience real world stress in all it's raw beauty. In a typical workday you will go from comforting the family members of a dying patient and then go home to your life to deal with your own personal issues. You will carry a lot of weight on your shoulders as a nurse on the job and outside of the job. These are just some of the many things they don't teach you in nursing school. When you land your first job, jump in and hold on for dear life. You will deal with the worst of people and co-workers all the way to lasting friendships and the most endearing patients and families you will ever meet. Welcome to the roller coaster ride of being a new nurse. Everyday on the job is a learned lesson.
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