Cleaning Up A Big Mess

Ages again since I've posted. I wasn't able to sit long enough to focus on the keystrokes. But now I am. Since the medicine. Yes, the medicine.

I saw the doctor finally. I'm not healed. I'll never be healed but I will be treated and that means I can have a nearly normal life. Isn't that grand? Nearly normal? What everyone dreams of, I suppose. Don't get me wrong; I'm not really complaining. I just thought it would turn out differently. Okay, I hoped it would. Secretly, deep down, I knew this would be how things turned out for me. It hasn't been easy for me. Nothing in life is easy, I know. I just kind of hoped things would be a little easier now that I've started my life. I have a this wonderful man that I want to settle down and grow old with, maybe even have - dare I say it- children. We're starting a life together. I want it to be perfect. I want to be the perfect little wife and make him incredibly happy. But I know that's not going to happen. It won't be perfect because we're not perfect. We are who we are. No more no less.

And therein lies my problem. I have no idea if I am the person I thought I was. For so long I thought I could trust myself but now I've found out that I've been partially mistaken. So how do I rebuild trust in myself? It's hard enough when it's someone else. Is there a book on this? A manual perhaps? I'm sure there's a half dozen on sale now if I just look on Amazon. I have faith that somehow this will turn out well. I will turn out well. It's just hard to keep the faith.

Though I've had this recent struggle, I've been living a wonderfully challenging life that has helped me grow and appreciate the little wonders in life.

I was floated the other night to a unit that accepts new admits and observation patients from the emergency department. It's the over flow unit and most of the patients there are on telemetry monitors for cardiac conditions. I'm not trained to handle cardiac conditions of this nature. In fact, I'm not even supposed to float until May. I'm "too new." But there on the list was "1W" written next to my scribble of a name. I grabbed up my things and proceeded to ask for directions to the unit. I had been there once during orientation to see the layout of the hospital. Months later and I still get turned around from time to time.

I walked the eerily quiet hallways to the unit. I badged in, secure unit. Kind of scary already.
Three nurses were running around and paid no attention to me. Two doctors were on the phones at the nurses station yelling at unseen parties. No doubt there had been some sort of confusion and orders were missed. I walked up to the one smiling face. I told him my name. "Two South, eh? Welcome. You can put your stuff back here and then get report from the nurses. We're getting three admits right now so you'd better hurry."

Three admits now? Change of shift? What the he-
My thought was interrupted by the sight of a familiar face. A nurse from my own unit. She was frazzled beyond anything I had seen when she was on our unit. The pit of my stomach dropped. She's been here for years and she's at her wit's end. What can I do? Yikes! I threw my stuff down and looked at the board for my assignment. Four patients here and one admit. I can do that. No big deal. Except my admit was already here and slightly different. She was direct. Not from the emergency department. The doctor sent her and no one knew why. She had been waiting for almost an hour and no one had a clue why she was in the hospital. Not so great. The nurse before me took over. She gathered the information I needed and helped me get things together. I had another patient I was transferring up to another unit. Her name was familiar.

I dove in, head first, one thing at a time. Priorities, that's what they taught us in school. My transfer needed to go. But first she needed some blood work done and an antibiotic. I checked in on her. Her smiling face was familiar. I had just had her as a patient a week ago. The poor thing had fallen at home and smashed her skull open. More staples than I have fingers sealed her scalp shut. When last I saw her she had the most ridiculous looking dressing on her head. It reminded me of the gaudy hats women wore ages ago. Big feathers and fluff. She just had the fluff and a band around her chin.

She was looking much better now. Except her leg was now infected. When she fell her leg also broke her fall. Swollen to twice it's normal size, it was wrapped in a large bandage. This was serious. I felt so awful for her. She had already spent her birthday in the hospital. Now this. I talked to her briefly through a mask. To top it all off she was on isolation as a precaution for a more serious infection, MRSA. It's been in the news so much as of late. I explained what the plan of care was for her and started on her paperwork.

I stopped in quickly to see my four other patients. Everyone was getting ready for bed. They were all ill and quite tired from the activities of the day. It doesn't help that the staff is in every two to four hours checking on them. Who can really sleep well in such a situation?

The night was so busy I barely sat long enough to take a phone call from a doctor. I ran from one room to another passing pills and pushing IV medications. No one was available to take my patient up to her room so I took her up myself. Three bags, one IV pole, a cane, and her clothes all in a wheelchair with her. Not the most graceful transfer ever but I did get her to her room without running her into the wall. Success!

Getting back to the unit as quickly as possible, I picked up another patient to replace the transfer. Our sister hospital was now on bypass, meaning they were no longer taking patients. They were full. This means tons more work for us. I now had 6 patients, which is my normal when I'm on my unit. But these patients were different. I had everything from severe back pain to alcohol detox to deep vein thrombosis to heart attack and stroke. Not an easy case load. Usually I have hip and knee replacements. I muddled through stopping to ask where supplies were and how to read monitors. Most of my patients were wonderful. They were just ready for sleep and happy to have a nurse that listened. So often we run in the room and run out without listening to a single thing people say. It's a sad truth. There just isn't the time sometimes.

The evening never really did calm down for anyone. There was an hour break when we were able to catch up on charting. Peace. Peace in charting. Who would have thought? Morning came quickly. I passed more meds and gave report to the next shift wishing them luck.

I left wondering, had I done everything I possibly could have to make my patients comfortable and safe? Was there anything I had left out of my charting that would lose a case in the court of law? That's something they've been pushing a lot of lately. Law. Not charted, not done. Did I chart everything. I drove home in a daze. Just when I was feeling a little more upset about the evening, a text came rang my phone.

"Good morning, love. How was your evening?"

Just that was enough to make it all better. It was day. The next day. I made it through the night and I was fine. No one died. No one suffered. I did the best I could with what I had. And now, the love of my life was thinking of me, hoping I was fine. It could have been worse. But it wasn't. It was just as much as I could handle.

A lesson learned. I only get as much as I can handle. Even when I think I can't, I do. I always make it through because that's what I'm here to do. Get through and be better in the end.