Carol, Gail, Susan, Diane, and Kelly.
A real team.
Your counsel, your shoulders, your labor, your friendship
mean everything in the world to me.
I love you guys.
There are no better Nurses on the Planet.
I've been a Registered Nurse for, oh, ten years now.
I've worked in small town Hospitals, in Home Health,
and currently, and concurrently,
as Nursing Supervisor for a Community Center Board
working with the Developmentally Disabled/Mentally Retarded.
Don't get me wrong. I'm a caretaker to the very marrow of my bones,
BUT
there's some weird conspiracy out there to wear to a frazzle,
work the Nurse 'til she drops,
give the Nurse as little support as possible,
"dime-a-dozen"
slave,
mother,
fix me yesterday,
acccckkkkk.....
Working in small town Hospitals is an exceptional learning experience.
We do
Pediatrics, Geriatrics,
Orthopedics, Gynecology, Neurology, Urology, Cardiology,
Motor Vehicle Accidents, Suicide Attempts, de-toxing,
gut surgery, eye surgery,
COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease)
from pediatric asthma to the old smokers,
pneumonia and RSV,
AIDS/HIV and all varieties of Hepatitis,
wound care (boy, is that an understatement) to just flat taking care.
We work with old Diabetics and new Diabetics of all ages.
Liver disease and, "I don't have the foggiest notion" disease.
We bathe, we toilet, we clean, we comfort,
we bully, we cajole, we beg, we plead,
we use logic, we use illogic, we never, ever lie,
BUT
we can speak euphemisms with the best of 'em.
I have seen itsy, bitsy, teenie-weenie, 100 pound Nurses
paired with 350+ pound men and women
who need help to the bedside commode, wiping their bottoms,
bathing & dressing,
trooping up and down the hall to get snacks, food,
"real" food
water, pop,and going home looking like they've been through wars.
(The Nurses, not the patient! Good grief, people!)
I, by the way, do not even remotely resemble a 100 lb. female.
I come by "Old Amazon" quite rightly. :-)
>Rocking babies while their Mommies go have cigarettes, or
take care of other siblings and/or the Significant Other,
or have just got to get out of that room before they hurt somebody.
(All this while the little ole lady down the hall decides
she needs a drink of water
"right now"
and can't reach the 6 inches to her bedside table to get it.
Guess who gets the brunt of THAT tongue-lashing?)
Speaking of Little Ole Ladies,
I have been bitten, kicked across rooms,
pinched,(now THAT'S a euphemism if ever there was one!
Take your dominant hand and grab approximately a 3 inch parcel of skin
up close to your non-dominant elbow
and twist viciously. See! Pinch!
You may also choose to practice this maneuver on your breast.
Another favorite target of little ole ladies and little ole men.)
clobbered, lost hair, been spit on, cussed rather imaginatively,
and was still there to hold hands when they were "called".
So, let's just imagine a typical 12 hour day for a Nurse.
We have four little ole ladies....one with Alzheimers.
Her hip is probably broken, and she's just had surgery yesterday.
Two have heart problems, and don't like each other.
The last is the nicest little ole lady you'll ever care to meet, but
has bladder problems...and is in for "weakness".
(In small town hospitals, that's a real diagnosis.)
You also have a two month old baby in for "failure to thrive",
whose mother is all of 17 years old.
And smokes.
A big, husky man who is just coming from surgery
with a shoulder repair...
and doesn't do pain well and is ALSO nauseated.
And his wife hovers.
Oh, hell, somebody called off and we're understaffed today.
Let's kick in our "really big guy" up there
who has cellulitis of his feet and can't stand alone
but sure as hell needs to stand to use the urinal
'cause he can't pee lying down or sitting up.
AND
pick a category, any category from the above list...
Eight whole patients. Eight human beings to take care of for 12 hours.
Doesn't sound too tough, does it?
So much YOU know!!!
Tell you what...
I'll just let you use your imagination.
holding her foley catheter in one hand and her hip dressing in the other,
stark naked,
between the bed rails ready to "go home".
The shoulder is puking, and his wife is frantic.
The Big Guy and the Nice Little Ole Lady have to pee.
Hateful Little Ole Lady #1 is complaining of chest pain,
while her equally hateful roomie gloats and decides that's a good idea!
Chest pain gets you immediate attention.
The 17 year old wanders out of the room
holding a blue, limp baby.
"See! This is what he does all the time right after I feed him."
Now, I don't know about you,
but priorities get a little skewed about this time...
mine do, anyway.
Baby first,
CP's second,
naked little ole ladies third,
puking men fourth, afterall, he's got his wife standing right there,
and peeing comes in a really long last.
Help would be nice right about now.
I wish I was exaggerating.
I really wish I was.
I also have to pass meds
(the naked little ole lady won't take her meds from me'cause I won't let her go home
and she's highly P.O.'d at the conspiracy that's keeping her here
so she spits, hits, and cusses imaginatively),
and give baths.
Eeeep!!! I'm an RN!
A head-to-toe physical assessment on each of these fine folks is in order.
Pass and pick up breakfast, lunch, and dinner trays.
Call the Kitchen 'cause a tray got forgotten,
or they didn't get an order change, or
the patient is
allergic to, doesn't like, ain't got enough of what's in front of them.
Weak little ole lady is a feeder.
Yea.
Calling a couple of Doc's would probably be a good thing.
Chart, ship the baby ANYWHERE but on my floor.
(This would have done first.
The rest of the world can take a hike
until this baby is where it needs to be.
A Pediatric ICU in a big city would be nice.)
Talk to angry relatives about naked Little Old Ladies;
calm angry wives down.
Vital signs are handy things to have.
Let's not forget to call Respiratory Therapy for an EKG,
call ICU for heart rhythms,
I'll bet big bucks I've gotta do a couple of full bed changes
(we're going to assume
I've somehow already managed to give these two their baths),
and mop the floor.
(Housekeeping has already been through
and is currently in ER/OB/ICU cleaning up in there.)
PLUS,
my weak little ole lady
probably fell on her way to the bathroom
without me to assist her, and split her head wide open.
The baby is shipped, and little ole lady #1 goes to ICU.
You think they're going to leave those beds empty?
Not bloody likely!
In the baby's old room comes a TURBT with a CBI.
Basically a male "roto-rooter job" with continual bladder irrigation.
Two 2000cc bags of normal saline running at full-tilt boogie.
Change the bags and empty the foley...every 15 minutes.
And, of course, ER dumps on you at 5 o'clock.
You get a stroke with Neuro checks every hour in old lady # 1's bed,
and you get a NINTH patient,
whether you like it or not.
You wanna know what they're admitted with?
At this point, who the hell cares?
OK, sigh, whatever....
Possible GI bleed.
She needs an NG Tube,
the patient pulled the other one out,
and ER didn't have time to put it back in 'cause they're getting a COR,
and she's having huge, dark red, liquid stools,
needs a set of Ortho's and two units of blood...NOW.
Had enough yet?
AND....
yes, friends, there continue to be ands...
Docs have been in and out all day
writing orders,
changing orders,
wanting to know why this, that, or the other hasn't been done yet.
Half the supplies you need are down in the basement
in Central Supply
and the Desk Clerk forgot to call for them.
At least four IV's go bad or are outdated and need to be restarted.
Not all the meds you need are on the floor,
so a call to Pharmacy is in order,
or they call you because the Doc's writing is illegible.
Half a dozen relatives have called on each of your patients,
and each caller either likes to (a) chat or
(b) is ready for someone's blood and you are handy.
Break. You want me to take a break in the middle of all this?
Eat? Food? Leave the floor?
When, pray tell?
And let us not forget that your Comrades-in-Arms
and you HAVE to help each other somehow..
and we do help each other.
Only the gods know how we find the time.
And suddenly.....
a COR is called in the middle of all this
and you drop everything you're doing,
rush off to grab the Crash Cart
(which you checked earlier this day),
and with the adrenaline rush from hell,
try to keep someone from meeting their Maker.
I think you get my drift.
Nurses paid big bucks for the privilege of doing all this.
And get paid itty, bitty bucks.
At least in small town hospitals where,
"They (the Nurses) won't drive anywhere else to work.
They're stuck working here."
Gee, it is SO nice to be appreciated.
AND called in on your day off due to understaffing.
And I really, truly love my job.
I'm just too damned old anymore to keep up.
That hurts.
The really nifty, keeno thing about Nursing,
and life, in general,
is
THERE ARE ALWAYS OPTIONS
especially when you're older than dirt
and can't keep up that kind of pace anymore.
| Read my Dreambook! Sign my Dreambook! |  |
