December 17th, 2010: graduated college with a BSN
January 29th, 2011: took the NCLEX
January 31st, 2011: found out I passed the NCLEX = officially an RN
February 14th, 2011: first day of orientation at local hospital
May 14th, 2011: end of 90 day orientation
May 15, 2011: waiting to bid for a position in the hospital that interests me
That's my last five months in a nutshell. Ok, so there's a lot more that has happened but that's the gist!
I was a bit too busy living life and navigating through this "new stage" in life to sit and process it on here. That is until the other day when a doctor said something, unbenounced to him, so profound that it was as if God was speaking right through him into my heart.
I was on day five of a six day stretch. My compassion was running low. My mind was exhausted. Down the hall in one of my rooms sat a woman who had been in the hospital for ten days. She wasn't in for anything life threatening or even anything that couldn't be treated from the outside. She was a nurse's worst nightmare, another RN. They say medical professionals make the worst patients and I can see why now!
This woman had been an RN for over twenty years but let her certification run out fourteen years ago. She's what I would classify a nomad, bouncing from one friend to another with no real place of her own to call home. She was quite disheveled in appearance and VERY set in her ways. She scrutinized and critiqued how every medication was administered. She suggested courses of action to the doctors. She even talked one of the more appeasing doctors into letting her stay for what she deemed a "full course" of IV antibiotics; ten days. Really she should have been there for at most three. She flat out refused A LOT of measures of care. She made things really difficult for all the staff members.
I am all for being an advocate for yourself and wanting to take an active role in your care. BUT there is a fine line between being a participant in your own care and being an obstacle. I'm not going to lie I tried to cluster my care so I only had to go in her room the bare minimum times in my shift.
As the doctor this particular day conversed about the patient's plan of care with me at the nurse's station I informed him that now that she had had her full ten days of antibiotics she had informed me she would not be discharged because she now had to finish her IV diuretic (she thought the pharmacy on the outside had given her placebo pills because they "weren't working" so she needed to stay for the IV diuretic...did I mention she maybe had some psych issues?) In frustration he threw his hands up and marched into her room. When he came out he looked me in the eye and said "I just told her that I value her opinion as a professional but there comes a time where she has to let me be the doctor and she has to be the patient. She needs to trust me and follow my instructions otherwise she will never get better."
How profound.
You're probably thinking ok Emily maybe a little of her psychosis rubbed off on you, what is so profound about that? Bare with me and I'll tell you.
As I stood there it dawned on me. A lot of changes have been going on in my life. Some are wonderful and some I struggle against, questioning A LOT, and in the midst of it all I have been trying to deal with it all by myself. It was as though God was saying "Emily you need to let me be God and you be 'the patient.' Trust me, follow my instructions otherwise you will not get better."
Sometimes More times than not I want to dictate how my life goes. I have this idea of how it should be and when things don't match up I get discouraged and start trying to control things. THIS IS NEVER A GOOD IDEA.
What the Lord has been showing me over the last five months, specifically these last two, is that I need to surrender that control. He doesn't want me to sit back and dictate everything so that I feel controlled and helpless. No, he wants me to be an active participant in this life He has given me but I must surrender CONTROLLING it otherwise I will never be able to enjoy life to its fullest. As I have said many times its hard to give up that control for the fear of the unknown. Foolishly I think if I control things then I will get what I want.
I desperately wish I could see the big picture like He can. Unfortunately I can't. Much like that patient in the bed I have to trust the (Great) Physician's plan in order to get to the place where I want to be but don't necessarily see myself going at this current time.
What I will say is as I have relinquished that control, which by no means is an easy thing (it takes a lot of prayer) I have seen more of His presence in my life lately. And I can honestly say I am content where I am even if things at this very moment aren't how I would have them.
Each time I see my patient fighting for the last bit of control I can't help but smile. It's as if God is reminding me "ok Emily did you lay it down today?"
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Confessions of a Soon-to-Be Graduate Nurse
I was tossing and turning last for no particular reason so I began to think of some of my not-so-fine student nursing moments and I thought I would share! WARNING some of these are pretty gross (i.e # 1 & 5).
1. I once slightly threw up in my mouth when my patient missed the emesis bin and ended up spitting sputum from his trach on my arm. Did I mention that proper etiquette would be to swallow the throw up since making sure he was breathing well, not running to the bathroom, was my priority? Gross I know.
2. I was trying to pull the cap off a needle once and ended up putting the needle through my index finger and into my thumb. Embarrassed I got a new needle drew up the medication, wrapped my profusely bleeding fingers in a napkin, and administered the IV med without the patient or nurse knowing what I had done. It was a tiny hole through and through but that thing killed for weeks! Needless to say I developed a needle cap phobia until this past semester when one of my instructors taught me how to properly take a cap off. You're probably thinking how hard can it be? I'm here to tell you its a little harder than you think (at least that's what I tell myself).
3. I cried once on the floor. Watching my ICU patient's family gather around his bed as he was leaving this world and hearing them recite Psalms 23 as they cried out to our God was so heart wrenching. I did not have time to excuse myself to the bathroom before the tears started coming.
4. Sometimes I would pretend to go to the bathroom so I could sit just for a few minutes to gather my thoughts during my long shifts. (Don't judge - they say you do your best thinking in the bathroom!).
5. I had a patient who was restrained to the bed by wrist restraints and mittens (it was for his own protection, he was missing part of his skull and was very confused. Oh and he liked to touch the nurses and grab at them when his hands were free so I suppose it was a benefit to all). He was having multiple loose bowel movements. Lets just say I have never seen that amount come out of a human being. Anyways, I went to check on him for the third time in an hour when I realized it had happened again. I really felt for the guy. It went everywhere and required us to change him and the sheets each time. Well I went to untie his arm so we could start to clean him up and as I was leaning over he touched my face with his mitten. Then I saw it. (brace yourself) Feces on his mitten!!! Which meant feces was on my cheek!! I froze. Yes I cared that my patient was sitting in his own excrement but now it was on my face and that was ALL I could think of. The nurse helping me looked at me with the most straight face and said "I'll hold him dear. I think you need to wash your face." I THINK she was right. Also my sister was right when she called me "poopy face" but she was a decade to early!
Well. there you have it! A few of my not-so-finest moments! Hopefully they didn't totally gross you out. I should get back to studying (only ten more days to go!). I promise my next post will be of more substance. For now I will leave you with a picture of one of my favorite clinical groups. We survived the ICU together.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The Widow Next Door
She sat in a chair at our kitchen bar as Katie and I cooked lunch. From the moment she entered the door she had not stopped talking; recounting how life was the past week, her exercise routine, grandkids, and then delving into more serious topics such as the struggle of loosing her husband.
Katie had met her a few weeks prior when she was moving out of our apartment building into a one across the way and decided we should invite her over for lunch. I LOVED the idea and was very excited to meet this mystery woman. I just love older people.
Well here she was in the flesh; a widow who obviously just wanted someone to talk to.
As we ate lunch I noticed she pushed her food around, taking an occasional bite. I figured it was just because she was telling us all about her life with her husband; a topic she obviously could talk for days about and brought her such joy.
It was hard to hold the tears back as she explained to us that her husband had been diagnosed with brain bleeds six years ago. With a grim diagnosis, she would become the caretaker of the strong independent man that had taken care of her for forty some years. She told how at the age of 59 she had to go get a driver's license because she did not have one and he would not be able to drive to and from doctors appointments. She explained the agony of watching the man she loved deteriorate before her very eyes. Her best friend, the love of her life, the father of her children was dying before her very eyes a slow and painful death and there was nothing she could do about it. Her vow of "in sickness and in health" was living itself out as she cared for the man who was becoming "someone [she] hadn't married."
She started crying as she told of a day when he said something nasty to her. Though she could not remember what the words I could tell they broke her heart. "He would never have said those things to me and that is when I knew it wouldn't be long. The bleeding in the brain was too much."
...fast forward to last week....
I was assigned a geriatrics paper where I had to interview an older adult on their life. I knew from the beginning I was going to interview her. Plus I had not seen her in a few weeks so I knew this was the perfect opportunity to check-in on her.
She agreed and she began to tell her life story to me again as I feverishly wrote down all the details. With the one year anniversary of his death approaching and the holidays I could tell the subject of her husband's death was not going to go over well. When it hit 2004 in the story telling she began to sob.
My heart ached for this woman.
She kept apologizing and I reassured her it was ok to cry. By this time I was a blubbery mess myself (is that any surprise?).
I reached out to hold her hand and in my heart I knew I shouldn't push the subject so we moved on.
The next section to my project was the health history. So I asked. I was not prepared for what was about to come next.
"You're a nurse" (well not really but most people don't see a huge difference between nurse and student when it comes to discussing issues so I let her continue) "so I feel like I can tell you this because it's been a heavy burden for me to carry by myself. I can't bare to tell my girls because they have been through so much the last few years. In 2004 before my husband was diagnosed with his brain disorder I was diagnosed with Parkinson's."
She continued to tell me that the diagnosis was put on the back burner because she needed to focus on her husband. Well six years have past and the symptoms have begun to rear their ugly face. She flat out told me she was still in denial. The fear of a disease with no cure, watching her husband deteriorate from a brain disorder, the family history of brain tumors, and not being a fan of medicine has paralyzed her from seeking help.
I sat there as she held out her arm that shook violently (no wonder she always held it close to her body). She told me how she found herself tiring easily, being dizzy quite often, struggling to carry her groceries in the house, forgetting simple things (and not the occasional we all have lost our heads and forgotten something, she has to write things on 3x5 cards so she does not forget), sleeping problems and body stiffness. Then the most concerning of all symptoms "lately I have had to face the fact that this is getting worse because I am having trouble swallowing." Remember how I said she pushed her food around her plate? We packed her food up for her that day because she said she wasn't hungry at the moment but would eat it later. The truth was she has to cut her food up into tiny pieces and eat slowly so she doesn't choke but she did not want to have to tell anyone that.
As I sat there offering up a few suggestions and the little bit of education I knew from classes I encouraged her to seek medical treatment and to tell her girls.
Here sat a woman who is ill but won't tell her girls because she is afraid of the burden it will put on them. She needs help with simple things like carrying in her groceries but she won't ask for help. She's still grieving the loss of her husband and adjusting to life without someone to talk to at the end of the day when everyone else is with their families. She's lonely and scared yet she fondly and openly talks about her Jesus who has and is carrying her through the tough moments. A devote woman of prayer she told me that she is "living life like she is dying. If I got to heaven tonight at least I will be with my Jesus and my husband and I can't think of a better place."
I went home crying. Not just because of the sad story but because God was breaking my heart that day.
How many times have I gotten caught up in the busyness of my life or flat out ignored the prompting of the Holy Spirit to talk to someone that God has brought into my path? More than I would like to say.
Those are divine appointments.
If Katie had not stopped to talk to her as she was moving out we would not have gotten to know her. I wouldn't have done my project on her and I would not have realized there are a lot more things going on here than the surface would let on. Now I know to watch for when she brings groceries home so I can help. I know to leave encouraging messages on her door. I know to stop by every once in a while just to make sure she is doing ok.
Granted nursing opens a door to privy information but what I learned that day is I need to open my mouth, invest in people, and love others the way Jesus calls us to. (Luke 10:27)
I am reading a devotion book on 52 women of the Bible and I think God is trying to drill home a point because my most recent woman was Dorcas. Her story is in Acts 9:32-43. In verse 36 she is introduced as a believer who "was always doing kind things for others and helping the poor." Well Dorcas dies and the widows of the town all come to mourn her death. They are distraught because she was the one that took care of them, providing homemade cloths for them. Those who knew her heard that Peter was in town, he had been healing people in Lydda, and went to get him because they knew that he could bring her back. Peter comes, he prays, and helps Dorcas up from the bed where she had been laid. News spread and God got all the glory. It is said that "many believed in the Lord (v.42)."
God has really been working on my heart lately about what kind of ministry I will have when I finally am living in a place for more than a few months at a time (yeah for graduation!). While I still don't know what it is or will look like God is gently molding my heart for what is to come. This story has caused me to think. Will I be known first of all as a believer? Will my actions reflect those of Christ (i.e loving the unlovable, taking care of the "forgotten" or lonely, etc...)? Does the way I live push others to Christ?
I am very thankful that my mother did not decide to name me Dorcas but I want my life to look like hers. How do you want your life to look?
Katie had met her a few weeks prior when she was moving out of our apartment building into a one across the way and decided we should invite her over for lunch. I LOVED the idea and was very excited to meet this mystery woman. I just love older people.
Well here she was in the flesh; a widow who obviously just wanted someone to talk to.
As we ate lunch I noticed she pushed her food around, taking an occasional bite. I figured it was just because she was telling us all about her life with her husband; a topic she obviously could talk for days about and brought her such joy.
It was hard to hold the tears back as she explained to us that her husband had been diagnosed with brain bleeds six years ago. With a grim diagnosis, she would become the caretaker of the strong independent man that had taken care of her for forty some years. She told how at the age of 59 she had to go get a driver's license because she did not have one and he would not be able to drive to and from doctors appointments. She explained the agony of watching the man she loved deteriorate before her very eyes. Her best friend, the love of her life, the father of her children was dying before her very eyes a slow and painful death and there was nothing she could do about it. Her vow of "in sickness and in health" was living itself out as she cared for the man who was becoming "someone [she] hadn't married."
She started crying as she told of a day when he said something nasty to her. Though she could not remember what the words I could tell they broke her heart. "He would never have said those things to me and that is when I knew it wouldn't be long. The bleeding in the brain was too much."
...fast forward to last week....
I was assigned a geriatrics paper where I had to interview an older adult on their life. I knew from the beginning I was going to interview her. Plus I had not seen her in a few weeks so I knew this was the perfect opportunity to check-in on her.
She agreed and she began to tell her life story to me again as I feverishly wrote down all the details. With the one year anniversary of his death approaching and the holidays I could tell the subject of her husband's death was not going to go over well. When it hit 2004 in the story telling she began to sob.
My heart ached for this woman.
She kept apologizing and I reassured her it was ok to cry. By this time I was a blubbery mess myself (is that any surprise?).
I reached out to hold her hand and in my heart I knew I shouldn't push the subject so we moved on.
The next section to my project was the health history. So I asked. I was not prepared for what was about to come next.
"You're a nurse" (well not really but most people don't see a huge difference between nurse and student when it comes to discussing issues so I let her continue) "so I feel like I can tell you this because it's been a heavy burden for me to carry by myself. I can't bare to tell my girls because they have been through so much the last few years. In 2004 before my husband was diagnosed with his brain disorder I was diagnosed with Parkinson's."
She continued to tell me that the diagnosis was put on the back burner because she needed to focus on her husband. Well six years have past and the symptoms have begun to rear their ugly face. She flat out told me she was still in denial. The fear of a disease with no cure, watching her husband deteriorate from a brain disorder, the family history of brain tumors, and not being a fan of medicine has paralyzed her from seeking help.
I sat there as she held out her arm that shook violently (no wonder she always held it close to her body). She told me how she found herself tiring easily, being dizzy quite often, struggling to carry her groceries in the house, forgetting simple things (and not the occasional we all have lost our heads and forgotten something, she has to write things on 3x5 cards so she does not forget), sleeping problems and body stiffness. Then the most concerning of all symptoms "lately I have had to face the fact that this is getting worse because I am having trouble swallowing." Remember how I said she pushed her food around her plate? We packed her food up for her that day because she said she wasn't hungry at the moment but would eat it later. The truth was she has to cut her food up into tiny pieces and eat slowly so she doesn't choke but she did not want to have to tell anyone that.
As I sat there offering up a few suggestions and the little bit of education I knew from classes I encouraged her to seek medical treatment and to tell her girls.
Here sat a woman who is ill but won't tell her girls because she is afraid of the burden it will put on them. She needs help with simple things like carrying in her groceries but she won't ask for help. She's still grieving the loss of her husband and adjusting to life without someone to talk to at the end of the day when everyone else is with their families. She's lonely and scared yet she fondly and openly talks about her Jesus who has and is carrying her through the tough moments. A devote woman of prayer she told me that she is "living life like she is dying. If I got to heaven tonight at least I will be with my Jesus and my husband and I can't think of a better place."
I went home crying. Not just because of the sad story but because God was breaking my heart that day.
How many times have I gotten caught up in the busyness of my life or flat out ignored the prompting of the Holy Spirit to talk to someone that God has brought into my path? More than I would like to say.
Those are divine appointments.
If Katie had not stopped to talk to her as she was moving out we would not have gotten to know her. I wouldn't have done my project on her and I would not have realized there are a lot more things going on here than the surface would let on. Now I know to watch for when she brings groceries home so I can help. I know to leave encouraging messages on her door. I know to stop by every once in a while just to make sure she is doing ok.
Granted nursing opens a door to privy information but what I learned that day is I need to open my mouth, invest in people, and love others the way Jesus calls us to. (Luke 10:27)
I am reading a devotion book on 52 women of the Bible and I think God is trying to drill home a point because my most recent woman was Dorcas. Her story is in Acts 9:32-43. In verse 36 she is introduced as a believer who "was always doing kind things for others and helping the poor." Well Dorcas dies and the widows of the town all come to mourn her death. They are distraught because she was the one that took care of them, providing homemade cloths for them. Those who knew her heard that Peter was in town, he had been healing people in Lydda, and went to get him because they knew that he could bring her back. Peter comes, he prays, and helps Dorcas up from the bed where she had been laid. News spread and God got all the glory. It is said that "many believed in the Lord (v.42)."
God has really been working on my heart lately about what kind of ministry I will have when I finally am living in a place for more than a few months at a time (yeah for graduation!). While I still don't know what it is or will look like God is gently molding my heart for what is to come. This story has caused me to think. Will I be known first of all as a believer? Will my actions reflect those of Christ (i.e loving the unlovable, taking care of the "forgotten" or lonely, etc...)? Does the way I live push others to Christ?
I am very thankful that my mother did not decide to name me Dorcas but I want my life to look like hers. How do you want your life to look?
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Well Hello Weekend
It's Thursday night and my weekend has begun! Of course there is homework to be done, dishes to be cleaned, laundry to be washed, and dirt crying to be sucked off the rug BUT I do not have to be anywhere for the next three days and that my friend is a wonderful thing. This is so rare for me and so for now I am sitting on my couch with Criminal Minds (reminds me of Kathryn!) on in the background basking in the fact that I could stay up all night and sleep in all day tomorrow. I won't haha but the fact is I COULD if I wanted to.
A few days ago I was given an award of sorts by a fellow blogger Rachel. She is from back home and blogs primarily to keep her family updated on what's going on in her life while her husband is stationed in Groton, CT (they're a navy family). I'm what you would classify a "blog stalker" of her because she is always posting pictures of her adorable son Brennan who has the best baby hair I have ever seen. Don't believe me? Check it out: Calton Corner
I started this blog because we were encouraged to write about our journey through nursing school. I started solely writing what happened during clinical and then one day I realized I needed to start writing what God was teaching me through this crazy stage of life. So that's where I am at now. I haven't been the best at updating this year; lets face it "free time" is hard to come by. But I was honored to get "the Versatile Award" because its nice to know others who read it might get something out of it!
A few days ago I was given an award of sorts by a fellow blogger Rachel. She is from back home and blogs primarily to keep her family updated on what's going on in her life while her husband is stationed in Groton, CT (they're a navy family). I'm what you would classify a "blog stalker" of her because she is always posting pictures of her adorable son Brennan who has the best baby hair I have ever seen. Don't believe me? Check it out: Calton Corner
I started this blog because we were encouraged to write about our journey through nursing school. I started solely writing what happened during clinical and then one day I realized I needed to start writing what God was teaching me through this crazy stage of life. So that's where I am at now. I haven't been the best at updating this year; lets face it "free time" is hard to come by. But I was honored to get "the Versatile Award" because its nice to know others who read it might get something out of it!
To accept this award one must:
*link back to the person who gave you the award
*share 7 things about yourself
*pass it along to other blogs you enjoy
*make sure you tell your awardees about the award so they can repost
Hmm lets see 7 things about myself....
1. I love hotels. A lot of people think I am crazy and complain that they are dirty (which they probably are) but there is something about jumping laying on the freshly made bed with fluffed pillows, living out of suitcases, little soaps in the bathroom, and room service that makes my heart happy.
2. Growing up I wanted to be a marine biologist and work with Shamu at SeaWorld. For my ninth birthday my aunt took us to SeaWorld and I saved all my money just to buy a Shamu stuffed animal!
3. Clumps of hair make me gag and creep me out.
4. My first car was a baby blue 1988 Dodge Aries K. I thought when it died and my parents let me drive their mini van I was stepping up in the world. Now I drive a 1996 Buick Century that does not lock, one functioning window, and is missing part of the bottom of the car because it rotted off! Talk about a humbling ride :)
5. The thing I am most indecisive about is whether or not I should cut my hair.
6. I'm not up on the latest fashions or dress to impress BUT I do love high heels and I will look for any reason to wear them. As embarrassing as it is sometimes I clean the house in them!
7. You always hear parents say that when they see/hold their child for the first time they fall in love. I figured they weren't lying but I had never experienced it. Granted I do not have children yet but the first time I saw/held my niece I fell in love and till this day despite the cranky attitudes, endless messes, and dirty diapers I cannot get enough of that girl!!!
Alright now is my chance to pass this along to others... I only closely follow a few blogs (a few well known blogs & then mostly friend's blogs) so here is the shout out to them!
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