You know how firework shows always have a finale?
I need to tell a story before I start with pictures. I have been pulled to the floors these
past four nights and have had a whole new experience. My patient from two nights ago was doing well and I figured
he would go home and I wouldn't see him the next night. We said our goodbyes and when I came
back, I was right - empty room.
I went on with my assessments of the patients I was assigned
to and while I was running past the nurse's station, I saw this particular
patient in street clothes at the nurse's station. He stopped me and said he had a question. He was sent home with a catheter to
drain his bladder, which was to be kept in place until his follow up
appointment with the doctor who inserted it. He said that he wanted my opinion, reported some drainage
and through his broken English was trying to relay his problem.
Though I was in the middle of a busy burst of my night, I
stopped and listened, not sure what he wanted me to do for him that the charge
nurse didn't already relay to him ("go to the emergency room, you aren't a
patient on this floor anymore.").
Through his frustration, he asked if he could show me. He pulled me into an empty room, pulled
the privacy curtain and dropped his drawers. That's right!
Me and a 70 something, pants around the ankles, bushy exhibits. I held it together though I was amazed
by his comfort level with me after one night! I drew on the dry erase board to give him a better idea of
what the problem might be but said that I wasn't certain. His pants were still around his ankles
(SIR!! Pull them UP!).
I finally directed him to pull his pants up and either go to
the emergency department or wait and call his doctor in the morning because he
may need a different size catheter.
He eventually realized that we were not doing any sort of intervention
or examination right then and there.
He left and I immediately turned bright purple. Wow! That was awkward.
Sir..
It's really different having floor patients. They walk. They talk. They
need attention but in a whole different way and dag nabbit, I was going to give
it to them as best as I could.
While sweating my way through these four nights to ensure comfort and
quality care, I grew as a nurse. I
better understand Jared's frustrations but also feel humbled and felt
challenged to master this task.
In their awake hours, I spent time at the bedside just
talking with my patients and recognizing them for the people they are. A few moments go a very long way.
One woman was from Holland. We talked about her time there and when she came to America
and how she loves thunderstorms and her granddaughter. She expressed her fears and concerns
and views on what's right and wrong in the world. In our three nights together, I couldn't ever pronounce her
name correctly but in the morning, she thanked me for my care and said, "I
am really going to miss you. You
are the nicest nurse I've ever met."
Another woman I spent three nights with was the sharpest 97
year old I ever met, and she only had 2 pills, one was optional! She never shared her secrets on aging
with grace but she did tell me about when she was a four year old girl in
Austria and how she would carry her empty soup can to the soldiers who would
feed her and how she would take it home to share with her family. Lessons of kindness and
selflessness. She knew the timeline
of when and how she moved to America and recounted times of living in West
Virginia and Pennsylvania (hurray!).
She talked about her late husband and her hopes to get better and back
home with her daughter. 97. This is what her heart was doing all
night, Titanic style:
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| "..my heart will go oooon and oooon." |
Not pretty.
Another patient I was caring for had a rough go at
life. She told me about her
daughter who died as an infant from a complicated deformity. Her other daughter made it to her early
30s before she dropped over dead because someone ignored her concerns. Her only living child, her son, was hit
by a truck as a child and never could learn to read or write. He still held a job and to this day has
helped to take care of his mother.
How does this even work?
While she was actively having a (second) heart attack, she remembered
her dead family members with a smile and thanked me for my touch as I lotioned
her back and gave her a mini back rub.
I want to remember these moments, so I am writing them down
more for my memory, less for your entertainment. Get over it.
Now onto the pictures.
On Friday the 13th, Michelle, Bryan and I went out to hunt
down touristy things for my trip home.
No luck. I was asked if I
was "in the business" (huh?) and tried on some dresses that would
surely let my Britney hang out if I ever wore them in real life! We stumbled across place called The
Rockefeller in Hermosa Beach. Our
hostess seated us at an interesting table:
The drink selection was something you might find at The
Sharp Edge. Oh, and the food was
pretty good too. I tried to stick
to my diet and ordered a salad with some fish. True to California fashion, the salad came with avocado,
except when it arrived, they had fried it. I never heard of this!
I fought with myself about diet versus trying new things. I ate it. It was unnecessary.
Both to eat and to fry.
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| A California Christmas tree preview? |
Oh and then of course, we found one of these.
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| Steelers Bar |
********************************************************
Part of the challenge of being pulled to the floor units is
learning the old but familiar equipment.
Here is the call bell system:
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| Call me maybe. |
The "fireworks" came to an end with a magnificent
sunrise show! Check out what this
morning looked like:
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| A hint of me reflected in the California sunrise |
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| KP - Harbor City, CA |
The sunrise really made me think, I am here for 12-hours per
day to "do what I do" but I am really here to enjoy the travel part
of the assignment and there is still so much to see in LA. So what am I going to do with seven
days off? Hop on a plane tomorrow
and head home to Pittsburgh!
Ha! I'll be back LA...
I'm gonna miss this mug though:
See yinz in a minute or so..
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