At what point will I stop gasping when I see an old guy in a store that vaguely reminds me of my dad? It is starting to piss me off.

This is about a patient. If they bore you, skip it.

Sometimes we get a chance to make a difference in the life of a human being. Sometimes the difference only lasts a moment...

I do 2 days a month in a nursing home. I know....you are probably in shock if you know ANYTHING about me. I do hospital nursing. Most hospital nurses rarely step into a LTC facility, unless their grandmother is a patient. Even then, the hospital nurse has a deep desire to clean all of the carpets with something caustic to get the damn urine smell out. (it's true...they all smell like pee)

I started doing 2 days a month over there, because I realized I DO like to talk to my patients occasionally. So many of mine are tubed and vented....conversation is limited at that point. ;) So, I spend time with the Elders once every 15 days or so, and I have a damn good time with it.

We play balloon volleyball in our wheelchairs. We color, string beads, sing....etc. It's fun for them, it's fun for me. Sometimes I have to close someone's eyes and call the funeral home, but hey....the person was probably 97 with senile dementia. They probably led a full, decent life.

And then you meet that one patient that tears your heart into bits, stomps on the bits...then eats them and spits them back in your face.

She is quite old, she has senile dementia....and sometimes she thinks I am a Female Nazi guard when I arrive in her room. You see, "Anna" has a very distinctive tattoo on her arm. You know the one I mean....Numbers. Blue. Tattooed on her while she wondered how many days she had to live. While she wondered where her little girl was...they said they'd bring her back.

She screams, because she is somewhere in the past, when the Nazis invaded her home. She hears the doors being kicked in, and begs me to hide her. She talks about the walk to the train, and the actual train she rode to the death camp. She talks about being desperately cold, and hungry. I feed her cookies 10 times a shift, because I can't stand the idea that she thinks we are starving her. Sometimes I leave a pile of them on her night stand so she can have them whenever she wants. The CNA's yell at me halfheartedly for the crumbs in the bed. :) And she's a diabetic, too...so there! ;)

You will be sitting at the desk, doing some paperwork and hear a blood curdling scream come from her room. You RUN down there, and she is asleep, or staring at nothing. Sometimes she thinks you are coming in to kill her. Some of the nurses don't even move when she screams. They piss me off, mightily. I cannot ignore a human being in distress.

Sometimes, she knows you are a nurse. She begs you to stay with her. She tells you to hide her from the soldiers. Her Husband has already gone to the ovens, and her daughter needs her. She's only two....if she is still alive. Then she screams again, remembering that her daughter is NOT alive, because some bastards killed her. She lives this moment over and over again.

Sometimes she tells me she loves me. I always reply that I love her too. I hug her, kiss her forehead and tell her I am going to turn out the light, and that it is time for sleep. When I have time, I stroke her hair or hold her hand until she dozes off, then tiptoe out.

And I made a difference, for just a moment. Until the Nazis return and she screams again.

So....I actually have two fathers-in-law.

My one with the thyroid CA is my Hubby's stepfather.

My actual father in law was diagnosed with probable lung CA today. Surgery next week.

I'd like to introduce you to the end of my rope. I made a doctor's appointment tomorrow. I need Xanax, stat.

Oh, and BTW....final diagnosis on my sister. She DID have a damn stroke. Saw the neurologist today.

I want to go to Vegas. Prices aren't awful right now. Think I should take the hubby for our anniversary in September?

Happy 75th Birthday, Daddy.

Wherever you are.

And as of yesterday, my husband has type 2 Diabetes. At. 39. years. old.


Let's add the last 14 months up, shall we?

Brother died of a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm
Father died of a massive heart attack
Sister had a serious electrolyte problem that mimicked CVA symptoms
FIL had thyroid storm, afib, CHF, and now Thyroid CA
And my Husband has DM type 2.

Anyone know a good therapist?

My Father in law has thyroid CA. Finally confirmed.

My 51 year old sister had a stroke yesterday.

Update:

So, it turns out that she didn't have a stroke. They TOLD her she had a stroke, oh....and scared the SHIT out of her. It turns out her potassium was 1.9 and she had mental status changes. Luckily, they didn't give her TPA for no reason.

My question is, why didn't they LOOK at the BMP at any point before 24 hours after her admission....when they started replacing her K+ at a nearly alarming rate.

I took a patient a few weeks ago who was in his early 50's and had just had a massive heart attack.

His brother did CPR at the scene, until EMS arrived. They were unable to get a heart rhythm back for over 30 minutes. A balloon pump was placed, and we cooled him to try to save his brain. It was very hard for me to take this particular patient, because whenever I get a post-code these days, I think of my Dad non-stop for the entire shift. However, I shoved it to the back of my mind and went back to the business of trying to save this poor guy.

He was in the unit for 2 weeks. He has eight siblings and his parents are also living. They almost never left the hospital. His oldest brother kept coming up to me and asking what I thought of the current treatment. He was agonizing over whether his CPR was good enough to save his brother. I said, "I believe in you! And even if it didn't save him, sweetie...I do CPR several times a week and *I* don't save everyone, so you are not allowed to feel guilty if it didn't work."

On Wednesday, I got to work and there was a flower arrangement waiting for me. The card said, simply:

Sillystudent,

Thank you for helping to save our Brother's life.

The S____ Family


He is completely intact, alive and well.

I went through orientation for my new PRN job, and I am about to do orientation for my other PRN job. So...I haven't posted much except one-liner status updates on facebook.

I took the kids camping last weekend.

I am still not doing so well about my father, and I mostly do not feel like talking to people, so sorry if I have kind of dropped off the face of the earth. I have been READING, but not replying to much.

*hugs* to all.

Thursday night was my last shift at my job.

I will admit that I got a little teary when I left. I will really miss my co-workers. They were great people for the most part, and I hate going somewhere else and not knowing if the other nurses will have my back like these girls did.

Is it fitting that my last admission was a postpartum patient in hypertensive crisis?

I seem to be getting my fair share of Obstetrics cases these days.

I had a woman come in, over 40 years old with 'fetal demise' at 15 weeks, diagnosed today. That's a nice way of saying that she is carting around a dead baby. She also had a plan put together on how she was going to kill herself, so I got her in the ICU.

I gave her Cytotec per vagina, to soften her cervix. She was scheduled for a D&C this morning. 6 hours later, her water broke and I had a bed full of amniotic fluid. I called the OB team, and told them. They said 'OK', nonchalantly. I called them when she started bleeding, and they gave the same response.

I would like to report that when I notified them that the fetus had made its appearance, and was hanging headfirst out of her vagina.....they finally hurried.

I let her hold the baby, we had the baby baptized, and I took pictures for her. I hope it was enough.

My Father has been gone for almost 2 weeks. I am not sure how well I am dealing with it. I can't cry, but I feel 'unreal' most of the time. My house is not as clean as I like it, and I am unmotivated to do anything about it. I mostly want to lie on the couch and read.

Is this normal? I have nothing to compare it to.

So, the story goes....

My twin sister called me at about 5:15 pm on Sunday, March 29th. She was in shock. She kept saying "Daddy doesn't have a pulse, he's unconscious, and sundry things like that. MY older sister was screaming at the top of her lungs that he wasn't breathing.

The stupid doctor at the hospital said "Sorry, there's nothing we could do...he aspirated."

He died of a damn heart attack and my mother thought she killed him with a pizza. If the death certificate had not come back with Myocardial Infarction on it, I was going to personally kill the ER Physician.

We buried him on April 1st. It was a beautiful ceremony with full military honors.

It always kills me when they go on one knee and say the following:

"As a representative of the United States Army, it is my high privilege to present you this flag. Let it be a symbol of the grateful appreciation this nation feels for the distinguished service rendered to our country and our flag by your loved one."

My father died today

As some of you know, I have nearly debilitating TMJD. The pain has been ramping up for the last 4 months, and I promised myself that I would not take prescription pain medicine for as long as I possibly could (I lasted just over a year). I realized this week that I was taking 4-6 Grams a DAY of ibuprofen, plus 2-3 Grams a day of naproxen. Yes, my kidneys still appear to be functioning.

My Doc insisted that I go back on the narcotics for pain, as well as valium for anxiety and clenching. He wrote me for steroids and celebrex for day to day maintenance. He also referred me to a plastic surgeon. So, I want all of you to think positive thoughts....and if you pray, pray that the Doctor will diagnose me with unilateral mandibular hypoplasia as opposed to TMJ, so my insurance will cover it.

Oh, and I can't go to work until next monday.

Peace :)

So, in the midst of my FIL's crap (see edit to previous post) I had a job interview today at the biggest hospital in the area.

This was the biggest, baddest, coolest ICU EVER. They had EVERYTHING. They had a damn PHARMACY just for that particular ICU. INSIDE the ICU. The NM said they were 40% trauma. *drool*

Unfortunately, I am not getting the job. The Recruiter told me that there were several applicants, and that a few had more experience than me. Maybe next time. They will probably call and turn me down tomorrow.

But it was a SUPER COOL tour!

Ok, so I have finally decided why I hate my job.....go with me here and see if it makes sense.

I got called in to take a patient a few weeks ago. He was a 34-year-old with a head bleed, and an ETOH problem. He was post-crain, intubated, sedated, etc. I developed a fabulous relationship with his parents and the rest of his family. They actually brought me dinner and a gift basket the third night I had him.

I figured out why I loved taking care of him...


HE IS GOING TO GET BETTER.

Hardly any of my patients get better. I work in a charity hospital, and we have the poorest of the poor, with horrible chronic health problems. A good description of a typical patient of ours would be:

Malignant hypertension, Diabetes type 2, Renal Failure, Cancer History, Coronary Artery Disease, Missing one or both legs, on dialysis, still smoking 3 packs a day, and eating a bucket of Church's chicken for lunch, followed by a 5lb bag of sugar for dessert. Now, with exacerbated CHF, an acute MI, and failure to go to dialysis for a week, or two, or three.

This patient is obviously never getting better. We have MULTIPLES of this patient at all times. It's disheartening to work your ass off to save these people, and then see the family sneaking in fried chicken, french fries, and sweets a week later when the patient gets transferred to the floor.

The other patient we get is the 90 year old with multiple co-morbidities that the family insists we keep alive. So we TORTURE these poor little old people for weeks until the family can bear to let them go.

I think that all of these exercises in futility are actually damaging my soul. I want to work somewhere where people get better. Trauma ICU maybe?

Help me out here, folks. I still want to do critical/acute care, but I need to have part of my soul intact when I retire. Suggestions?

Erm, so it has been quite a long time since I updated. Here's the readers digest version:

Went to GA to see my parents for Christmas. Fun was had by all.

Got a hot pink ipod for christmas....and a pink nintendo DS....see a pattern here? :)

I also got a GORGEOUS Coach patchwork tote from my hubby.

I am now officially not a new grad....sort of. I can write 'more than 1 year' of experience on applications now. I technically have a year and 10 days of experience.

Kids are ok, Hubby is still a pain in my ass ;)

Do I owe you money? :)