Jumping on the Schiavo Bandwagon

This whole Terri Schiavo debaucle has produced a mass amount of websites (such as saveterri.com) and a plethora of blog entries regarding the matter.

I, too, decided I'd dedicate this one post to the topic.

Initially I had no desire to write about anything with the words Schiavo and feeding tube anywhere in its body; that is, until I decided to browse through a few of the sites, where I stumbled upon a few videos of Terri.

The first question that popped into my head was "hmmm, could they be altering the video to sway the masses toward their cause?"

When the issue first became a perpetual sentence on the ticker tape of all news channels, my feelings on the matter were quite set in stone.

The woman is brain dead, just let her rest in peace for crying out loud. What kind of life is she living now? Her poor husband, suffering the ordeal with her for the last 15 years, decided it was time to let go. I couldn't agree more.

Then I watched a few clips of Terri, responding to questions by the medical professionals, greetings from her mother, tests to stimulate her in anyway possible.

It was then that I realized this woman may still be perfectly aware inside her brain. When asked to open her eyes, she eventually did (though it took a few seconds, I guess for her ears to tell her brain to tell her eyes to open). When her mother walked into the room, she smiled.

I wasn't so sure about them having removed the feeding tube anymore.

The human body cannot survive without food for more than 30 days.

It cannot survive without water for more than a week.

What if she really does feel like she's starving to death? Not very humane, is it?

I think they could have gone about the matter in an entirely different way.

There are other ways to end the suffering of those who have no quality of life whatsoever- put them to sleep, etc- instead of starving them to death.

Ultimately, the conclusion I came up with is this: I agree with putting her out of her misery. Regardless of whether or not I needed a ventilator to sustain my life (which Terri Schiavo does NOT, which means she's breathing on her own and her heart is still functioning on it's own), if I couldn't move, communicate, look after myself, or be an active member of society, I'd want someone to "pull the plug", if you will.

Lesson learned: Draw up a living will, so no selfish family members can keep me alive just because they're too afraid to let go.

Hiatus

I've been off work since Wednesday, and it feels like an eternity.

It was nice to be able to have the majority of Spring Break off, though. It was great. Some of the best dates my boyfriend and I have had took place this week (La Locanda, The Fair, etc).

I also got to see some friends I haven't seen in a while at a birthday party.

That birthday party got me started with my whole existential work crisis again.

Most days, though I do work a dead-end job, i'm thankful for even having one. For someone who doesn't have a college degree, I make an OK amount of money; it's just that I owe so much of it to other people that I never see a penny that comes rolling in. From the desks of the corporate slave drivers, to the bank for a brief moment, straight to the mouths of the credit card sharks. But it's all my fault... So I guess I should shut up.

Anyway, at the birthday party, I realized I was surrounded by about 90% young professionals, some younger, some slightly older... All moving on with their lives...

Architects, engineers, teachers, nurses... All around me...

It's not that my job isn't important. I think it's QUITE important, in fact. It's just, I never seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel since it's such a dead-end job...I save lives, and it's rewarding. But I've been there four years and I'm only making a a dollar fifty (or so) more than when I started. There's no room for growth...

I only have a year or so left to get my degree... But the scary part is, I'm afraid I'll just end up at the hospital even after I get it; which means I won't be able to move out, get out of debt, or get on with it.

So this really wasn't an interesting post about Nursing, but I just had to get that off my chest.

A True Sense of Community

Today at work, I treated one of my boyfriend's students.

As soon as I saw the name on the chart, I immediately recognized it.

This was the first time in my four years at the hospital where I felt a true sense of community.

It's almost as though he and I worked in conjunction to improve the quality of life for other members of our own community.

It was such a rewarding feeling, knowing that each of our jobs couldn't be more different from one another, yet we're still somehow on the same page of someone else's book.

I hope more people can experience this...It gives a sense of fulfillment.


I was going to write more... But i'm exhausted from work so I'll save it for later.

Too Little Too Late

ARGH!

Last night I had the worst stomach ache I've ever had in my entire life. It felt as though someone was perpetually stabbing me from front to back, back to front, just below the ribcage.

So, I get to bed at midnight thinking that if I can just fall asleep within the next hour or so, the pain will be gone in the morning and I will be able to get to work.

1 am....1:45am....the pain continues, so severe that I find it hard to even breathe. I get up, peruse the kitchen for something, anything to help the pain subside... I REALLY REALLY did not want to miss work today. Whatever it is I end up finding I chase down with a glass of water, hoping the results would be fast. Boy, was I wrong. All I can keep thinking about is how much I don't want to miss work, I don't want to call in sick. Still, I just end up watching the hours go by, considering a trip to the ER as a patient myself. I've never experienced a pain that lasted as long as this one. Then I think about the things they would do, the tests they would run, and ultimately I know that everything would come back normal, so why bother? Just sleep it out...

3 am...3:30 am... 4... 4:57... At this point, I realize I have to be up in an hour to get ready for work; I've had not a wink of sleep. The pain is still sharp and strong as ever, so I pick up the phone to tell the folks at work I won't be able to come in.

6am....6:30am...6:49 am... This is the last time I remember looking at the clock on my desk. The pain was still present, but apparently it was about to improve because I finally fell asleep.
I woke up at 10:15 this morning, having had about 3 hours of sleep. But I thought, hey, that's enough to get me through the day... The pain was gone, and that was the most important part. I decided to call work and see if they had found anyone to cover for me, and if not, I was ready to go in. They told me to come on down, and I felt great, because that would mean I wasn't missing work! I get dressed, walk the dog, and walk upstairs to receive a phone call informing me that they forgot to tell me they'd already found a replacement that was on her way. Craptastic.


*sigh*... The bad thing about only working two or three times a week is that I can't control when my body gets sick. It couldn't have picked one of the (majority of) days I have off to feel the worst stomach pain I've ever felt. It HAD to do it the night before I had work. Missing one out of a mere two or three days in the week doesn't look very good to your boss...Now I'm left feeling horrible for having missed work today, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it anymore

I will never forgive my stomach for this.

Surprising

Hmm... I don't usually find myself saying this, but I'm really glad I went to work today, even if it was just for four hours. At night, no less. In fact, I wanted to stay all night long.

Something's not right with me today, and being at work made me forget how crappy I felt all day.

I was anxious, I felt sick, I was kinda down, and my brain wouldn't shut off. Going to work can be a great thing when you feel that way. It's almost mind numbing. In fact, I think being at work is the closest thing to being able to quiet my usually loud and disorganized thoughts. It's just a mask, but it works quite well. I'm too caught up in other people to think about my life, and today I welcomed that more than anything in the world.

My good deed for the night was finally getting that IV on this adorable little girl who'd been stuck a million times between yesterday and today. It feels good when I can bring that comfort to the child, and to the parents as well.

The atmosphere was so different tonight (compared to working the dayshift), that I actually thought for a second, "hey, I'd work nights if every night was like this". Then I remember this particular dynamic duo that works at night and I take it all back. If ever, oh ever, they leave the department and I'm still there, count me in for the nightshift. Also, it's more money; I'd definitely welcome the extra cash.

People Caring For People

That's the "slogan", or "motto" of our corporation.

It's had to write about work everyday when you only work 2-3 times a week. I wish I had a mental VCR or something, to record everything that happens during the day; then I could go back and reflect on the moments that are worth it. Everything happens so fast in the ER that you don't have time to register everything that's going on. Alot of the time you're on auto-pilot.

When some people go on auto-pilot, that slogan which we so fervently try to maintain in our day to day activities is completely forgotten. They become like machines, treating each patient as an object of sorts. Some of my co-workers are good at the technical skills required to be a nurse (such as starting an IV, drawing blood without leaving a gigantic bruise, etc.), but they lack the people skills to keep up that "people caring for people" frame of mind.

Some nurses don't know how to talk to the children in ways that can comfort them; others have no tact in dealing with parents. In some extremes, some nurses (which lack both the people skills AND technical skills of the job) are perfectly OK with poking and prodding a child a thousand times before they actually get some blood or start that IV. Umm, excuse me, but last time I checked there was a crying child in front of you. Give him a break for god's sake. Our job is to alleviate the pain, not make it worse.

My rule (and most everyone else's rule in the department) is "2 strikes you're out". If you can't get that blood draw or that IV in two tries, you let someone else give it a shot.

The other day I was helping a nurse start an IV on a child. This will probably have no meaning to people outside the field, but she used a 24 gauge needle/catheter set to start the IV on the child. She wasn't having much luck threading the catheter (which means getting it into the vein properly). She had already retracted the needle and thrown it out, while the catheter remained inside the child. She felt like she might be able to save the IV if she tried threading the catheter again (which would require her to open another needle/catheter set to use the needle and insert it into the old catheter). While this is perfectly acceptable, you MUST use the same size needle and catheter (and common sense will tell you this). In this case, however, the nurse decided to open a 22 gauge set and use that needle to try to thread a 24 gauge catheter (keep in mind, 22 gauge sets are larger than 24 gauge sets) into the vein. I'm not sure what the expression on my face was (I didn't want to frighten the parents), but inside, my jaw dropped. I could not believe this nurse's stupidity. I wondered if she'd gotten her nursing degree from one of those phony online colleges, where you pay 300 bucks and they send you a degree via mail. One of the first skills that they teach you in nursing school is how to properly start an IV, and inform you of the dangers to the patient should you do it improperly. What was she thinking?! She could have ruptured the plastic catheter using the bigger needle, causing pieces of it to flow through the child's bloodstream. Does that sound safe to you?

I don't know where the problem originated, but if this is the way nursing schools are training new graduates, I don't want anyone of them taking care of me. We might as well use robots to treat patients. It would be more cost efficient that way anyway. I shudder at the thought of someone so incompetent with their life in my hands.

What do you do for a living?

Lately, I've been having a hard time defining the boundaries of this question.

Usually, when someone asks you what you do for a living, you immediately think "career", "job", "whatever it is that I do to make money". Who decided that's what the question entailed?

Living is so much more than just making money. Why does our job have to define that in its entirety?

Sure, in order to pay the bills, I work at a hospital's pediatric ER.

I try to do many other things for a living though. I go to school (which I'm beginning to think is becoming a career in itself. ha.), I travel, I read, I spend time with people I love. I'd like to think I've helped put some food on the plates of those less fortunate, though I've really been just a middle man somewhere in the mix. I've never actually seen what the food banks actually do with the food. http://www.rockforaremedy.org The site is down now, thanks to the lovely folks who hosted it. One day they just decided to go out of business and not tell any of their clients about it. Look for it soon, though, it should be back up in the near future. I hope.

I feel like my life has slowed down in the last few months. Just a year ago, I was all over the place, all the time. From last March until about the end of October, I was in (several parts of) Florida, New Jersey, Connecticut, Massachussets, Alabama, Georgia, California, Illinois, and Mexico. While it was deliciously fun, looking back I realize it was happening so fast that I didn't have much time to savor everything that was happening. These days it's more relaxed, and I have time to bask in the warmth of the sun that's shining on me at the moment. I am truly blessed.

Next time someone asks you what you do for a living, stop and think about all the things that make you feel alive before you give them an answer.

EMT- What does it stand for?

Sure. Everyone knows that EMT is short for "Emergency Medical Technician".

It's funny how you can use those same letters to describe in three short words what EMTs may go through on a typical day on the job. Emotions, Mental Exhaustion, Trauma. Sounds cheesy, I know.

But that's what I do, so I can vouch for the fact that working in one of the Southeastern US's busiest hospitals is tolling- mentally, emotionally, and physically; particularly when you're in a Pediatric Emergency setting.

I'll be 23 soon, but have the back problems of a 65 year old. I've stared death in the face more times than you can imagine. I've been stuck by dirty needles, hit by combative patients, loved by appreciative parents, entertained by the innocence of children (it never ceases to amaze me how quickly that innocence is dissolved- even moreso nowadays). I've laughed, I've cried, I've felt anger greater than I've ever felt before. I've saved lives, so that (as a very special person pointed out to me) they can continue on their journey to learn more about themselves and the world they live in. Most days you forget the impact you're having on these patients, the job becomes "just another job". However, if you take a moment to step back and look at things objectively, you realize that you actually make a difference in people's lives. Then all those tears, all that frustration, and the exhaustion you take home with you everyday sort of falls into the background, and the intrinsic rewards supersede them.

Today was what I'd label closest to your "typical, as-seen-on-tv" day in the emergency room as I've seen in a while. At least there was no death to deal with today, and for that I'm grateful.
I'll focus on four specific cases today to tell a little bit of my story.

I began the day on a sour note. We received a 4 year old child via Fire Rescue who had been extricated from a burning home. Miraculously, he had no burns on his body; but alot of people don't realize that the most hazardous, life-threatening thing about fires isn't actually being burned, but smoke inhalation. It can cause your lungs to collapse, and kill within a matter of minutes. Had that child been left in that home just a couple more minutes, he would not have made it. I'm used to seeing children with all kinds of tubes and wires coming from every possible place, but today, I had to step out of the room as tears were welling up in my eyes. The smell coming from the child was like nothing I've ever experienced. It was as though he was being barbecued. It smelled like a smoke pit all over his body. It was one of the most traumatizing things for me in the 4 years I've worked there.

I then went to check on a patient we had yesterday, a little tiny baby who somehow caught bacterial meningitis. I was expecting to hear some good news, but only got the opposite. I don't know if she'll make it or not. I always wonder what these little souls' purposes here are, those that don't even make it to their first birthday. Why don't they get a chance at life like the rest of us fortunate ones do? And why, knowing how precious life is, do some of us still sit around and waste it, or wait for it to happen? One of the things that this job has reinforced in me is the belief that everyone should live life to the fullest everyday. Keep the future in mind, just in case you make it to that point, but don't count on each coming minute. Nothing is promised.

Next, there was an adorable little girl who'd gotten quite a deep gash on her eyebrow from a fall. Relatively minor injury, if I do say so myself. It just required a few stitches, and she was out the door almost as quickly as she came in, which is a rarity in an emergency room. It's always fun to take care of those patients, since they're in their usual spirits- other than an occasional pang of fear (which is to be expected from a 3 year old child). I gave her a coloring book and a butterfly sticker, and she reacted as though I'd just given her the world. It's amazing how easily satisfied we are as children, how unscathed we are. Our smiles were more genuine when we'd just entered the world. If only there was a way to maintain that innocence. There are those who never get to see that on a day to day basis, but I am glad to say that there are constant reminders of the beauty of simplicity in my workplace. Sometimes you have to rake through the muck to find it (in the form of bureaucratic bullshit, coworker incomptence and laziness, etc.), but it's always there.

Finally, there are some patients and families who make you laugh hysterically. Sometimes it's intentional, other times it's just the way parents and their children interact with one another. A teenage boy came in for nephratic syndrome (which causes alot of edema, or swelling), accompanied by his father. The boy was rather... ummm... large. I was attempting to find a good vein to start an IV on, and I wasn't having much luck getting them to pop up (even with a tourniquet on). All of a sudden the father says "just show him a hamburger... those veins will come RUNNING OUT AFTER IT... then you'll have some veins to work with". I just about died. It was such a random, hilarious comment coming from his father. The poor boy kept saying "daddy please... the lady's tryin to get her work done... let her work". As I continued on my search for the golden vein, the father continued with the silly jokes. "Y'know, he was at the Last Supper y'know... He ate all the food before Jesus could get to it. He was there, he was."
The way the father and the son were going back and forth might not have been as funny as I'm making it out to be, but I think the reason it was so hilarious at the time was that I felt as though I was invisible. Like that was the sort joking conversation they would have in the comfort of their own home, or in the car... Not in front of a nurse/EMT that they've never met in their entire lives. Some folks don't care WHO'S in their presence. They'll act just as uninhibited and unreserved as if no one was watching. It's these patients that crack me up. It's these patients that will eclipse (if just for a fleeting moment) one of those other, more intensely emotional moments of the day. It's like a breath of fresh air.