I walked into his room and was surprised to see how small he was. Severely mentally delayed at three years old he is unable to walk or talk. His body is in a constant state of tension. Hypertonic is what we call it. His eyes are crossed and don't move together. But more than anything else I notice his pain. And his mom. His patient, loving, always present mother who is clearly distressed. She is beyond worried about her son. After two surgeries and a trip to the ER his condition does not seem to be improving in the way we would like it to. He's getting worse, much worse. Several nurses and myself are able to communitcate with this mother through her broken English and our broken Spanish. She is worried that the pain is going to cause the seizures he has a history of. Worse than that, she is worried he is going to stop breathing. We all feel stuck, the doctors want to get him into the OR but can't...it's full and he doesn't quite fall into the "emergency" category. As nurses we feel stuck because it seems as if nothing can touch his pain.
I left work that night feeling sad in a way I had not before. It was the first time I questioned my emotional capability to do this job. It was terrible to see how much pain this child was experiencing. It's very frustrating for doctors and nurses when we do things that do not heal kids like we expect. I heard through the grapevine that after yet another trip to the OR this kid finally left the hospital. I hoped and prayed for nothing but the best for them.
Fast forward two weeks. I'm sitting at a computer charting and I see the same boy roll down the hall in a bed with his mom close behind. My heart drops. I say hi to his mother and ask why they are back. This time it's because he has not been eating well and is very dehydrated. Tears come to my eyes as I see this precious family back in the hospital. My first tears of sorrow at work.
I leave work that night hoping that when I come back in the morning I will not be assigned as the nurse to care for him. I just don't think that I can handle it again. But my wish does not come true, I'll be his nurse for the day. I say a little prayer before I walk into the room. But things seem different when I step inside. Right away I can tell--he is not in any pain. He is just resting comfortably like the rest of us do every single day. His mom steps near his bed and whispers something to him in Spanish and he smiles--a huge, I love my mom, I'm happy kind of smile. Then I smile and then I cry. My first tears of joy at work.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
It's that time of year again.
And no I'm not referring to Christmas (for goodness sake it's not even Thanksgiving yet), or the end of college football season.
I'm talking about college basketball.
Four years ago I rolled my eyes at the thought of college basketball and March Madness, what's that? I was clueless. But being at Gonzaga for two years I quickly overcame my aversion to the game and realized how fun it is. Honestly, a good game in the Kennel beats out a good game at Mile High any day. The action is constant and I feel like the players in college ball have a bit more punch than the pros who get paid millions.
Gonzaga isn't ranked yet, but I have faith. They do better as an underdog team anyways. Just last week they lost to the #2 team by only four points. To me, Gonzaga is the perfect team to root for. They come from a small city with nothing else to put it on the map except their championship arena football team, but I don't know anyone that follows that sport anyways. When I look at the players sometimes I wonder how they even manage to stand up to teams like Michigan State and Duke. They seem small and most of them are white. And I love that Gonzaga's best player comes from Colorado. No wonder they are sometimes referred to as "America's Team," people love watching surprising, unexpected wins.
I'm not expecting them to win March Madness, but I'm betting that they will at least make it to the second round. And when they loose, I'm hoping none of the players fall the the floor kicking and screaming--I never was a huge fan of Morrision.
I'm talking about college basketball.
Four years ago I rolled my eyes at the thought of college basketball and March Madness, what's that? I was clueless. But being at Gonzaga for two years I quickly overcame my aversion to the game and realized how fun it is. Honestly, a good game in the Kennel beats out a good game at Mile High any day. The action is constant and I feel like the players in college ball have a bit more punch than the pros who get paid millions.
Gonzaga isn't ranked yet, but I have faith. They do better as an underdog team anyways. Just last week they lost to the #2 team by only four points. To me, Gonzaga is the perfect team to root for. They come from a small city with nothing else to put it on the map except their championship arena football team, but I don't know anyone that follows that sport anyways. When I look at the players sometimes I wonder how they even manage to stand up to teams like Michigan State and Duke. They seem small and most of them are white. And I love that Gonzaga's best player comes from Colorado. No wonder they are sometimes referred to as "America's Team," people love watching surprising, unexpected wins.
I'm not expecting them to win March Madness, but I'm betting that they will at least make it to the second round. And when they loose, I'm hoping none of the players fall the the floor kicking and screaming--I never was a huge fan of Morrision.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
RN
Nurses represent the largest percentage of the health care field. Within nursing there are about a zillion different jobs to choose from, so it's hard for me to tell you exactly what nurses do. But I can tell you what I do.
Right now I work on a floor or unit called the Surgical Multidisciplinary Specialty Center. That's basically a fancy way of saying that we get a huge, huge variety of patients. We mostly get kids that are in the hospital due to one surgery or another. This could be anywhere from brain surgery or a kidney transplant all the way to simply getting a set of tonsils out.
We have a section of our floor dedicated to rehabilitation patients. They are usually in the hospital for extended stays to receive very intensive therapies (ie occupational therapy, speech therapy, physical therapy as well as medical treatment). These kiddos usually wind up at Children's after some sort of traumatic accident that leads to brain injury. Sadly, we see quite a few cases of shaken baby syndrome that end up needed rehabilitation therapies.
Five of our 48 beds on the unit are dedicated to kids with seizures. Seizure technicians stick lots of wires all over these kids heads with the ultimate goal of localizing where within the brain these seizures are coming from. Localizing the point of seizure activity can lead to further treatment down the road more effective than medications. For four days these kids are constantly monitored by the seizure techs who watch screens that display brain waves. I have no idea how to read these monitors, but the techs do and are able to tell when a seizure is occurring (some seizures are very small and not readably noticeable unless we can actually see the brain waves). These kids usually do not require much nursing care unless a very large tonic-clonic seizure occurs--then it's all hands on deck to open the patient's airway and stop the seizure using emergency medications.
So, there is a brief look at the kinds of kids we see on my floor. Here is a bit of what my day looks like--
I report to work at the unhappy hour of 0630 with sleepy eyes and cup of tea in hand. Inside the door of our locker room is where us nurses find our assignments for the day. This usually consists of 3-4 patients depending on how busy our unit is. At 0650 report begins, I sit and listen while the off-going nurse tells me all about what is going on with the patients she had over night and now I will have during the day.
0730 hits and I head into my patients rooms to introduce myself and perform an assessment, this usually consists of listening to heart, lungs and stomach, checking for pulses and pain and a general "does this kid look good or does this kid look bad?" We are required to assess each of our patients every four hours. Seems like a lot, right? But the scary thing about taking care of kids is that they are very good at masking any signs of distress for a long time. For example: when adults are heading towards a state of shock, usually their blood pressures will be the first thing to bottom out. In kids, the blood pressure is usually the last thing to bottom out because they are just better than us at trying to stay healthy. But when kids get really sick, they get there really fast. Thus the reason for assessments every four hours.
In-between assessment my time is taken up by administering medications, helping kids out of bed for a walk down the hall, changing diapers, trying but usually failing to fix the defective Xbox 360s we have in every room, calling doctors, paging doctors, administering medications, helping kids to the bathroom, administering medications, charting, charting and more charting, laughing with co-workers, calling the pharmacy to clarify questions about medications, talking with families, drawing blood, hanging IV fluids, playing with my patients, measuring urine output (we seem to be obsessed with this in the medical world, but it can tell you a lot about a patient) teaching parents about taking care of their child at home, and at times, stressing out between all the things I have going on.
At 1850, the night nurses are back and its time for me to talk to them about my patients and how they did during the day (its much more detailed than that, but that’s the jist of it). I'm usually in my car and driving home by 1930 and home by 2000. It's a long day, but let me tell you there is never a dull moment or lack of things to learn. The 12 hours just seems to fly by. It's busy, stressful and tiring, but for the most part, fun and very rewarding.
Four years and two little letters later, and that's what I do.
Right now I work on a floor or unit called the Surgical Multidisciplinary Specialty Center. That's basically a fancy way of saying that we get a huge, huge variety of patients. We mostly get kids that are in the hospital due to one surgery or another. This could be anywhere from brain surgery or a kidney transplant all the way to simply getting a set of tonsils out.
We have a section of our floor dedicated to rehabilitation patients. They are usually in the hospital for extended stays to receive very intensive therapies (ie occupational therapy, speech therapy, physical therapy as well as medical treatment). These kiddos usually wind up at Children's after some sort of traumatic accident that leads to brain injury. Sadly, we see quite a few cases of shaken baby syndrome that end up needed rehabilitation therapies.
Five of our 48 beds on the unit are dedicated to kids with seizures. Seizure technicians stick lots of wires all over these kids heads with the ultimate goal of localizing where within the brain these seizures are coming from. Localizing the point of seizure activity can lead to further treatment down the road more effective than medications. For four days these kids are constantly monitored by the seizure techs who watch screens that display brain waves. I have no idea how to read these monitors, but the techs do and are able to tell when a seizure is occurring (some seizures are very small and not readably noticeable unless we can actually see the brain waves). These kids usually do not require much nursing care unless a very large tonic-clonic seizure occurs--then it's all hands on deck to open the patient's airway and stop the seizure using emergency medications.
So, there is a brief look at the kinds of kids we see on my floor. Here is a bit of what my day looks like--
I report to work at the unhappy hour of 0630 with sleepy eyes and cup of tea in hand. Inside the door of our locker room is where us nurses find our assignments for the day. This usually consists of 3-4 patients depending on how busy our unit is. At 0650 report begins, I sit and listen while the off-going nurse tells me all about what is going on with the patients she had over night and now I will have during the day.
0730 hits and I head into my patients rooms to introduce myself and perform an assessment, this usually consists of listening to heart, lungs and stomach, checking for pulses and pain and a general "does this kid look good or does this kid look bad?" We are required to assess each of our patients every four hours. Seems like a lot, right? But the scary thing about taking care of kids is that they are very good at masking any signs of distress for a long time. For example: when adults are heading towards a state of shock, usually their blood pressures will be the first thing to bottom out. In kids, the blood pressure is usually the last thing to bottom out because they are just better than us at trying to stay healthy. But when kids get really sick, they get there really fast. Thus the reason for assessments every four hours.
In-between assessment my time is taken up by administering medications, helping kids out of bed for a walk down the hall, changing diapers, trying but usually failing to fix the defective Xbox 360s we have in every room, calling doctors, paging doctors, administering medications, helping kids to the bathroom, administering medications, charting, charting and more charting, laughing with co-workers, calling the pharmacy to clarify questions about medications, talking with families, drawing blood, hanging IV fluids, playing with my patients, measuring urine output (we seem to be obsessed with this in the medical world, but it can tell you a lot about a patient) teaching parents about taking care of their child at home, and at times, stressing out between all the things I have going on.
At 1850, the night nurses are back and its time for me to talk to them about my patients and how they did during the day (its much more detailed than that, but that’s the jist of it). I'm usually in my car and driving home by 1930 and home by 2000. It's a long day, but let me tell you there is never a dull moment or lack of things to learn. The 12 hours just seems to fly by. It's busy, stressful and tiring, but for the most part, fun and very rewarding.
Four years and two little letters later, and that's what I do.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Decorate? Me?
We're getting ready to move into our new apartment here in the next several weeks. We are more than excited to be back in our own place and less than excited to move all of our stuff again. Even after we purged many of our belongings in Spokane, I was still amazed as to how much stuff we have. Haden has at least three different backpacking packs, and I have to confess, I have a fair amount of shoes :)
At any rate, we are starting to gear up for our big move. Step one: buy a new couch.
For those of you who never heard us complain about our couch in Spokane, lets just say that Haden and I not-so-lovingly named it Black Death. We bought it from Target for $100 when we first got married. It was probably worth $50. Surprisingly we were able to sell it for 75 bucks and the girl that bought it claims to love it. I wonder if she has decreased sensation in her lower extremities.
Today, after hours of searching, we found and bought a couch that we love. Furniture Row, if you've never shopped there I would totally recommend it. Great furniture at very affordable prices.
Now the real work begins, starting to decorate. I'm feeling very inspired to make this place coordinated and put together. Partially because I want it to look good, partially because I want to challenge myself to do something I have never done before. I'm hoping to get it done like they do on the HGTV show, "Design on a Dime," i.e. the cost effective way.
Expect to see pics of our new place very soon. In the mean time, if anyone has any bright ideas I would love to hear them.
At any rate, we are starting to gear up for our big move. Step one: buy a new couch.
For those of you who never heard us complain about our couch in Spokane, lets just say that Haden and I not-so-lovingly named it Black Death. We bought it from Target for $100 when we first got married. It was probably worth $50. Surprisingly we were able to sell it for 75 bucks and the girl that bought it claims to love it. I wonder if she has decreased sensation in her lower extremities.
Today, after hours of searching, we found and bought a couch that we love. Furniture Row, if you've never shopped there I would totally recommend it. Great furniture at very affordable prices.
Now the real work begins, starting to decorate. I'm feeling very inspired to make this place coordinated and put together. Partially because I want it to look good, partially because I want to challenge myself to do something I have never done before. I'm hoping to get it done like they do on the HGTV show, "Design on a Dime," i.e. the cost effective way.
Expect to see pics of our new place very soon. In the mean time, if anyone has any bright ideas I would love to hear them.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
One day He will make all things right......
....and our country will no longer be consumed by consumerism.
....and I won't have to go to work and see a precious 9 month old with permanent brain damage as the result of an angry step dad.
...and my selfishness will be no more.
...and Denver traffic will also be no more.
....and our lists and demands of life will fade away and our only purpose will be to praise our Father.
...and the news won't be a depressing half hour waste of our time.
One day He will make all things right and we will be united for eternity.
....and I won't have to go to work and see a precious 9 month old with permanent brain damage as the result of an angry step dad.
...and my selfishness will be no more.
...and Denver traffic will also be no more.
....and our lists and demands of life will fade away and our only purpose will be to praise our Father.
...and the news won't be a depressing half hour waste of our time.
One day He will make all things right and we will be united for eternity.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
The return of a little friend
After four years away from home at college I think that I started to forget just how clean and organized my mother is. But, after two months back at home I am acutely reminded of just how tidy she is.
Exhibit A: when things go missing around here we state that the object has probably been "organized into oblivion." Meaning, my mom is so organized that she’s the only one able to find the things she's organized.
Exhibit B: No matter how hard I, or anyone else tries to clean up after dinner, no one can seem to get the kitchen as clean as Mom.
Exhibit C: A cleaning lady comes twice a month. She must love the stop at our house because in my opinion she hardly has to lift a finger :)
Exhibit D: Be careful wearing socks on the wood floor, it's so clean it's like walking on ice.
In all seriousness though, I very much appreciate the cleanly habits of my mother, many of which I have picked up myself. It makes for a very welcoming and friendly environment.
Anyways, I say all of this because you can imagine my surprise last night when I opened up our trash compactor and a mouse jumped out and fell to the floor. I ran screaming to the bathroom, with Haden close behind to see what the problem was.
I seem to have bad luck when it comes to mice. In Spokane we also had a brief rodent issue, and I was the one that saw the mouse scurry across the counter top as I was pouring myself a glass of milk. We lovingly named the mouse Edgar and immediately went to get mousetraps. Two days later we caught Edgar and one of his friends.
Haden is used to mice, growing up in Curlew they saw them all the time. Not to mention getting bit by a rat in the middle of the night. So this is my question: why am I always the one to discover the furry little creatures?
Just as we did in Spokane, we marched out of the house late last night to pick up some traps. Haden set three of them, so far, with no avail.
I'm not kidding you, as I sit writing this blog I can hear the stupid little thing scurrying around under our sink or in the trash compactor (I'm not really sure which and I don't want to find out.) I'm actually surprised that it has resisted the smell of the peanut butter for so long and has managed to stay alive.
Maybe this little guy is more partial to aged cheddar.
Exhibit A: when things go missing around here we state that the object has probably been "organized into oblivion." Meaning, my mom is so organized that she’s the only one able to find the things she's organized.
Exhibit B: No matter how hard I, or anyone else tries to clean up after dinner, no one can seem to get the kitchen as clean as Mom.
Exhibit C: A cleaning lady comes twice a month. She must love the stop at our house because in my opinion she hardly has to lift a finger :)
Exhibit D: Be careful wearing socks on the wood floor, it's so clean it's like walking on ice.
In all seriousness though, I very much appreciate the cleanly habits of my mother, many of which I have picked up myself. It makes for a very welcoming and friendly environment.
Anyways, I say all of this because you can imagine my surprise last night when I opened up our trash compactor and a mouse jumped out and fell to the floor. I ran screaming to the bathroom, with Haden close behind to see what the problem was.
I seem to have bad luck when it comes to mice. In Spokane we also had a brief rodent issue, and I was the one that saw the mouse scurry across the counter top as I was pouring myself a glass of milk. We lovingly named the mouse Edgar and immediately went to get mousetraps. Two days later we caught Edgar and one of his friends.
Haden is used to mice, growing up in Curlew they saw them all the time. Not to mention getting bit by a rat in the middle of the night. So this is my question: why am I always the one to discover the furry little creatures?
Just as we did in Spokane, we marched out of the house late last night to pick up some traps. Haden set three of them, so far, with no avail.
I'm not kidding you, as I sit writing this blog I can hear the stupid little thing scurrying around under our sink or in the trash compactor (I'm not really sure which and I don't want to find out.) I'm actually surprised that it has resisted the smell of the peanut butter for so long and has managed to stay alive.
Maybe this little guy is more partial to aged cheddar.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Spokane in 48 hours
It was a busy weekend to say the least. After three twelve hour shifts with a nagging cold, we woke up at 5:30 on Friday in order to catch our plane to Spokane. Haden's mission: photograph Nate and Courtney's wedding. My mission: help as much as possible.
Courtney and I developed our friendship through two years of nursing school together. Nate came into the picture about midway through and Haden and I became friends with both of them through small group and New Community. Haden loves shooting friends weddings, so when they asked, he couldn't say no.
We landed Friday morning, picked up our rental car, drove to Whitworth to see friends and my sister then headed back down to the South Hill to the Trepus Motel. Kerry greeted us with freshly made muddy buddies and Madden '09 for Haden. I fell asleep for a few hours and woke up not knowing where I was, and mad that Haden would wake me from such a deep, wonderful sleep. Of course forgetting the fact that the rehearsal was starting in 30 minutes.
The rehearsal was a great time for Haden to take some test shots and figure out lighting, I spent most of the time catching up with old friends. We snuck out a bit early from the rehearsal dinner to get in some hang out time with Greg and Kerry. At Beniditos we both got to indulge in two of our most favorite things: for Haden it was Boddingtion's on tap, for me it was their garlic bread sticks (can't find bread sticks like them anywhere else).
The majority of Saturday we were occupied with wedding festivities and by the end of the night we could hardly keep our eyes open. The bride and ceremony were beautiful, followed by a great reception complete with two bottles of Dead Guy for Haden (a friend's wedding reception = one of the only instances that drinking on the job is allowed). Check out Haden's blog in the next few weeks to see the finished product.
It was great to be back in Spokane for a few days; our only complaint was that we were too busy. Three months ago we were practically clawing our way out of that city, but now it's easy to see the things we miss about it, especially all of our close friends.
Congrats Nate and Courtney!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)