It's been a couple of days since my last post, so I figured I better get typing. :) Especially since I found out yesterday that my parents included the url to this blog in their Christmas letter... yikes!! I can't imagine why anyone would want to read my ramblings, but hey, it's your decision!
I've been working a lot lately. Actually, it feels like a lot but since I'm not doing overtime, I guess it is the same amount as before. One of the problems with working evening shifts (3 pm-11:30 pm) is that you pretty much have to work every day, whereas with the other types of shifts you can put in 12 hours and cut down on the number of actual days you report to work. My old job was all 12 hr shifts, so I am still kind of getting used to working 8 hrs.
I've been off orientation and working on my own for the last week now. It feels great to have that kind of autonomy (again) but at the same time, it is such a high acuity floor, and there is a lot I don't know and have to ask for help on. Some nights it is incredibly frustrating!! I haven't had any true emergencies while on my own yet, but I know that day is coming, and I am definitely not looking forward to it.
It's weird-- my job in Philly was so incredibly stressful for so many reasons. But even though working at UW is a lot less stressful (I get to take bathroom breaks!!), it can be more emotionally draining at times. At Methodist, I did my best to keep someone alive until the end of the shift, even if it meant improvising or prioritizing the most essential things. But the patients at UW tend to be younger, or have more rare diseases, and often have come from great distances (Alaska, Montana) to get the best possible care. No pressure there! And then what do you say to someone when they have travelled all this way for a last resort treatment... and it fails? Or alternatively (as was the case last night), they don't like the flavor of popsicles the hospital carries? :) Seriously, though, I have spent more time in the last few months with people who are so ill than I think ever spent at Methodist. Maybe it is because the patient load is lighter at UW, which allows more time with each one, but I feel like I have gotten more attached to people here.
Being a nurse has made me think about death a lot. Tonight I got word that one of my former patients, who I'd had for a number of days, died in the ICU. She was 30 years old. We knew she didn't have long to live, but still, somehow it got to me. There have been a lot of deaths on our floor lately. I lost a patient last week during one of the worst shifts I've had in a long time. The worst part, in my mind, was that this poor man died all alone in his room while we were trying to save another critically ill patient. Yes, he was elderly and very sick and didn't want to be resuscitated, but that doesn't make it any easier to do the post-mortem care or talk to the family about funeral arrangements. I keep thinking about how I was the last person he ever talked to. Should I have said something different? What would you say to a person if you knew that it would be the last thing they ever heard here on earth?
This is turning into a super long post, so I'll leave you with that incredibly depressing thought. If there's one thing I've learned, though, it's that life is unpredictable, and the only way to get through is to trust God's plan.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.~ Proverbs 3:5
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