Hey there, I know its been a little bit since I've had a decent post, and for that I apologize. Lately its been boring. I figured I would at least answer the questions I have been getting from my readers - How am I doing? I was shocked to see e-mails pouring in from some of my readers wanting to know how things are doing surgery wise. I figured I had bored all y'all to death and when numerous IM's came in I was really thrown for a loop. First off, thanks. It means alot to me.
My shoulder is stiff, but it doesn't necessarily hurt. Pain, there is little to none. If I sit in the sling too long or don't do my PT every so many hours I hurt, but it's like the pain you get after a good workout. Everyone seems to be shocked I'm only on Tylenol, but it works for me. As for PT I have Bubba help with my arm lifts to 90 degrees, its my favorite, it feels SO GOOD! Then I can let my arm hang and do circles 2-3 times a day. That works out nicely because it helps with loosening up my arm. Dressing and undressing has gotten easier. I still need an incredible amount of help with nearly everything- but I'm getting better.
However I miss my job. I miss doing things every day. My life consists of sleeping, getting up to take pain meds and do PT, and either watching movies or playing video games. As much as I thought I would love it, I actually hate it. The Christmas presents can't be wrapped, the apartment can't be cleaned, and more than anything, I have become the patient. The helpless feeling sucks.
The thing about the job we do is that we take it away from ourselves. As I'm stuck hanging out I'm trying to think of ways to save the world and feel like crap that I can't. I wonder how I can make a difference, how I can further myself in life, how can I make that difference I always wanted to. We take these things for granted, the ability to comb our own hair, or even lift a bottle of water to our lips. The ability to sleep on our sides or stomach, and the ability to cut our own meat. I'm an over sized two-year-old- but I'm catching on to how the patients may be feeling.
I would never wish this on anybody, but I wish I could explain the eye-opening experience this has been for me. When the medications made me ill and dehydrated, I knew what would happen, but I was still scared to death. When the chief anesthesiologist couldn't get a vein on me, I knew what it meant, but it still hurt, and still worried me. They explained everything I didn't understand well, but I still worried about what they didn't explain to me. Feeling helpless, I worry about being a burden to others. I hate asking for help when it comes time to shower or when I need my hair placed in a ponytail, because I know it's a huge favor to ask. My incisions look good from a medical standpoint, but I still worry that I am not paying enough attention. Could they be infected? Did the steri-strips fall off too soon? Suddenly I realize what my patients are thinking, worrying and wondering about.
It's a mind boggling experience, but an eye opener everyone should have at least once in their lives. I just hope that they can learn from my experience, not their own.
Until then, BSI!
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Monday, December 7, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Depression
This week has been full of this topic, starting with my trip to the ED on Sunday night. A friend called Sunday afternoon asking questions about a visit to the emergency room about crisis evaluations and how she should know when to take her 'sister.' I answered all questions dutifully and left it at that. Knowing her family, including said sister, it was a plausible story. Three hours later she called me in tears asking to be taken in to the ED. As I stated in an earlier post, it was a long night and by law I had to take her in. It's not the same scenario if you call the cops, and I knew calling in the cops wouldn't help her. So, we loaded up the car and took her to whichever hospital she chose.
It ended up being mine.
Because my hospital is the only level 1 Trauma center around, we got the joys of sitting out on a gurney in the hallway until they could find time for a measly crisis evaluation. GSW's to the face, stabbings, heart attacks, MVA's and MCI's rolled past us from the helicopter pad. I tried to be supportive to this person who I sat with, but we weren't that close and I wanted to see these traumas.
Because of what happened Sunday night I think I caught something from a patient in the ED, because I got sick. However, when I am down I have time to think about things. One thing I got to thinking about was depression.
During report today I caught myself rolling my eyes and sighing, making a comment similar to 'everyone has depression and anxiety'. It was wrong of me to say. I shouldnt've said it, i shouldnt've thought it. But when we work in medicine we seem to overlook that diagnosis. We seem to look for anything better when in reality, depression is a serious illness.
Everyone has had a down point in their life. A bad day, week, or month. A time where that damn raincloud follows them everywhere. The thing about depression is that alot of the time people don't realize they have it, and once they find out they do, they are over medicated and treated. Sometimes the treatment s appropriate other times its inappropriate. Either way, depressed people get help. That's a step.
I have sat in many 1:1's. Many suicide precautions and many depressed people. We roll our eyes at the 21 year olds who claim they don't want to live anymore, we sigh at the thirty-one year olds who are loosing their minds in a mid-life crisis. But what we don't realize is that their pain is real.
This post is not just an information post. I want to send out a challenge to everyone to quit overlooking depression. Shame on me for not watching the girl with the crisis evaluation. Shame on me for what I said. Shame on the doctors for not taking time to really look into someones depression and their medications. Shame on us, for not knowing enough about this totally painful and out of control disorder. Let's do better y'all.
It ended up being mine.
Because my hospital is the only level 1 Trauma center around, we got the joys of sitting out on a gurney in the hallway until they could find time for a measly crisis evaluation. GSW's to the face, stabbings, heart attacks, MVA's and MCI's rolled past us from the helicopter pad. I tried to be supportive to this person who I sat with, but we weren't that close and I wanted to see these traumas.
Because of what happened Sunday night I think I caught something from a patient in the ED, because I got sick. However, when I am down I have time to think about things. One thing I got to thinking about was depression.
During report today I caught myself rolling my eyes and sighing, making a comment similar to 'everyone has depression and anxiety'. It was wrong of me to say. I shouldnt've said it, i shouldnt've thought it. But when we work in medicine we seem to overlook that diagnosis. We seem to look for anything better when in reality, depression is a serious illness.
Everyone has had a down point in their life. A bad day, week, or month. A time where that damn raincloud follows them everywhere. The thing about depression is that alot of the time people don't realize they have it, and once they find out they do, they are over medicated and treated. Sometimes the treatment s appropriate other times its inappropriate. Either way, depressed people get help. That's a step.
I have sat in many 1:1's. Many suicide precautions and many depressed people. We roll our eyes at the 21 year olds who claim they don't want to live anymore, we sigh at the thirty-one year olds who are loosing their minds in a mid-life crisis. But what we don't realize is that their pain is real.
This post is not just an information post. I want to send out a challenge to everyone to quit overlooking depression. Shame on me for not watching the girl with the crisis evaluation. Shame on me for what I said. Shame on the doctors for not taking time to really look into someones depression and their medications. Shame on us, for not knowing enough about this totally painful and out of control disorder. Let's do better y'all.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Ignoring the Pain
"Dani I need help in here!" I didn't even need to look to see what room she was calling from, I didn't even need to respond, all I needed to do was focus. The sound of my heartbeat filled my ears and the ice cold sensation of adrenaline filled my veins. I grabbed the door frame and slid on the freshly cleaned floors and spun into the patients room. Gloving up I stood next to the nurse to see a patient screaming in pain and to see the nurse holding pressure on his hip, blood covering the sheets and the pillows elevating his leg. I took over the pressure and she ran out of the room, explaining that the on-call doc was on his way as well as the surgical team.
We generally don't see anything like this, for the most part our nights are full of long conversations about life and advice between bathroom breaks and checking in on snoring patients. But every now and then, excitement jumps in, and I get a chance to show off my skills. I made small talk with the patient as the nurse made frantic phone calls. Suddenly a doctor sprinted into the room, finishing putting on his scrub top and grabbed gloves. As he saw me and then saw the nurse run in after him he looked to her.
"Who did you call?" He asked.
"Everyone." The Nurse replied breathlessly.
He had what appeared to be a hematoma. When we first recieved the patient from the PACU he mentioned pain on a graft site and we examined it, but we weren't quite sure what it could be. We applied ice to it and paged a doctor, and from there, I had no idea what had happened until this moment. According to the patient his site just...exploded and the blood oozed everywhere. I placed tighter pressure on his site and I studied his face as he winced in pain.
"Lets get this guy some pain meds!" I holled out to the doctor and nurse who were talking right outside the door. As I yelled this another doc came running in and then did a quick examination. The decision had been made, he had to be sutured there and then.
This doesn't always happen in medicine. This doesn't always happen in real life, but we do always ignore that little bit of pain. Sure we examine it, we feel it, but then we toss it aside and wait for something bigger to happen.
My father did the same thing. He always had migraines, he always had stomach aches. It just became a way of life that after dad ate, he was sick. We figured it was stress, or simply his job, but one day after work my mother took him to the hospital. He dropped over 10 lbs in a week. He was sick, and we had to do something. He was just trying to ignore the pain.
A good friend of mine had a similar situation, he had stomachaches that left him bedridden for days, he would sleep for days at a time. He was sick, and instead blamed it on his habits (drinking and smoking) and decided against a doctor. Two months ago he went to a doctor, and has been to the doctor 3-4 times a week since, there is still no diagnosis. There may have been, if he hadn't ignored the pain.
We need pain in our lives to help us know when we are okay and when we are not. We need the pain just like we need the air we breathe. It just sucks that we have to feel it so often.
We generally don't see anything like this, for the most part our nights are full of long conversations about life and advice between bathroom breaks and checking in on snoring patients. But every now and then, excitement jumps in, and I get a chance to show off my skills. I made small talk with the patient as the nurse made frantic phone calls. Suddenly a doctor sprinted into the room, finishing putting on his scrub top and grabbed gloves. As he saw me and then saw the nurse run in after him he looked to her.
"Who did you call?" He asked.
"Everyone." The Nurse replied breathlessly.
He had what appeared to be a hematoma. When we first recieved the patient from the PACU he mentioned pain on a graft site and we examined it, but we weren't quite sure what it could be. We applied ice to it and paged a doctor, and from there, I had no idea what had happened until this moment. According to the patient his site just...exploded and the blood oozed everywhere. I placed tighter pressure on his site and I studied his face as he winced in pain.
"Lets get this guy some pain meds!" I holled out to the doctor and nurse who were talking right outside the door. As I yelled this another doc came running in and then did a quick examination. The decision had been made, he had to be sutured there and then.
This doesn't always happen in medicine. This doesn't always happen in real life, but we do always ignore that little bit of pain. Sure we examine it, we feel it, but then we toss it aside and wait for something bigger to happen.
My father did the same thing. He always had migraines, he always had stomach aches. It just became a way of life that after dad ate, he was sick. We figured it was stress, or simply his job, but one day after work my mother took him to the hospital. He dropped over 10 lbs in a week. He was sick, and we had to do something. He was just trying to ignore the pain.
A good friend of mine had a similar situation, he had stomachaches that left him bedridden for days, he would sleep for days at a time. He was sick, and instead blamed it on his habits (drinking and smoking) and decided against a doctor. Two months ago he went to a doctor, and has been to the doctor 3-4 times a week since, there is still no diagnosis. There may have been, if he hadn't ignored the pain.
We need pain in our lives to help us know when we are okay and when we are not. We need the pain just like we need the air we breathe. It just sucks that we have to feel it so often.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Surgery
I work in surgery. I work at the exact place I went to for my appointments. I work with that surgeon, and have worked one-on-one with him and his patients many times. I know the situation, but instead of the scrubs, I was the gown.
As soon as I placed the gown on and he asked me to stand to see what I can and cannot do, I realized this was business. He played with my range of motion and frankly put me into way more pain than I had bargained for in a one-hour visit. He could see that my joint was loose, but he had no idea how loose we were talking about. As soon as we sat down to talk he told me that he found things on my MRI, but I needed a different one.
Fantastic. There goes my paycheck.
As we spoke it became apparent to me what I need to do to even attempt to become a Paramedic. Its not just going to school anymore. When I can no longer hug my fiance, when I can no longer make a bed (a big part of life as well as life as a CNA), and when I can barely lift a patient, I knew it was time to call in the big shots. I am gonna need to have a surgery to do my job as an aide, as well as even consider being eligible to reach my dreams.
He explained the procedure well, and I can honestly say he is the best doctor I have been to yet, making sure I understood the procedure. Even his student was well educated and knew exactly what should be done (not bad for a first year resident!). But as I drove home with my mother I kept thinking to myself about the whole thing.
My injury ached, it creaked and it throbbed. I am a 20-year-old female with high aspirations and now this. No one my age should be in this much pain, but then again, I know I have a high pain threshold (I broke my collarbone and didn't know it until this shoulder injury years later when the injury had healed itself). How much pain am I really in?
As I stared down the freeway it seemed endless, somewhat like my dreams of becoming a Paramedic. Would I ever find the end and reach my dreams, or will I have to jump off an exit too soon and give it up? Would I ever have the glory and the richness of that first real save?
Tonight I continue to try to keep the pain under control and keep my mind off of this now touchy subject, hoping that inspiration will find me and that I will know what to do. But until then, I sit back, enjoy my pepsi and try not to feel overwhelmed about it all.
As soon as I placed the gown on and he asked me to stand to see what I can and cannot do, I realized this was business. He played with my range of motion and frankly put me into way more pain than I had bargained for in a one-hour visit. He could see that my joint was loose, but he had no idea how loose we were talking about. As soon as we sat down to talk he told me that he found things on my MRI, but I needed a different one.
Fantastic. There goes my paycheck.
As we spoke it became apparent to me what I need to do to even attempt to become a Paramedic. Its not just going to school anymore. When I can no longer hug my fiance, when I can no longer make a bed (a big part of life as well as life as a CNA), and when I can barely lift a patient, I knew it was time to call in the big shots. I am gonna need to have a surgery to do my job as an aide, as well as even consider being eligible to reach my dreams.
He explained the procedure well, and I can honestly say he is the best doctor I have been to yet, making sure I understood the procedure. Even his student was well educated and knew exactly what should be done (not bad for a first year resident!). But as I drove home with my mother I kept thinking to myself about the whole thing.
My injury ached, it creaked and it throbbed. I am a 20-year-old female with high aspirations and now this. No one my age should be in this much pain, but then again, I know I have a high pain threshold (I broke my collarbone and didn't know it until this shoulder injury years later when the injury had healed itself). How much pain am I really in?
As I stared down the freeway it seemed endless, somewhat like my dreams of becoming a Paramedic. Would I ever find the end and reach my dreams, or will I have to jump off an exit too soon and give it up? Would I ever have the glory and the richness of that first real save?
Tonight I continue to try to keep the pain under control and keep my mind off of this now touchy subject, hoping that inspiration will find me and that I will know what to do. But until then, I sit back, enjoy my pepsi and try not to feel overwhelmed about it all.
Understanding
In previous posts I have discussed my many recent visits to the doctors offices, and how badly I hate doctors when I am not working for them. Last week I spent time seeing a non-surgical Orthopaedic specialist, getting an MRI and an hour spent getting Xrays, only to be referred to a Surgeon (who I have to see today. Ick.) Every time I whine about it to my fiance, he always reminds me 'this will make you better at what you do. You will understand what the patient is going through because you have been the patient.'
At the hospital I always try to remember that. During my training as a CNA and as an EMT the school where I got my training always had us remember one thing - if you're gonna do it to a patient you better do it to yourself first. I have been restrained as a psych patient. I have had to wear a c-collar for hours at a time, I have been rolled, moved and repositioned, I have had thickened foods and mushy meals. I have ingested activated charcoal and had glucose ground into my gums. I have been the patient, but it has truly helped me be a better caregiver. I can explain the patient what it is in my own words, and tell them that I have done those things before.
Last night I had young patients, which is rare enough as it is, let alone patients who know the system, both of them working in medicine and working towards their RN. As I received report on one of them the NSI I got report from got quiet and looked sadly as he started to explain the situation about the patient.
'I'm not gonna name names,' He said sadly clicking his pen and pausing, as if he was wondering whether to tell me or not. 'But the aide last night was really mean to the patient and must have told her she is being a baby about her pain or something because all morning the patient made comments about being a baby and being in 'too much pain', because of this her pain is out of control, she is now very emotional and is not doing well. She works in a hospital, she knows whats going on.'
Sadly I nodded, whoever the aide was better not find me because my wrath for shit like that isn't right. I started my shift and found my patient to be just like the rest of us aides, a good kid just trying to make it to living the dream. As I worked with her I felt angry, how dare someone do that to another human being.
At one point in the night the patient was feeling anxious, was maxed out on pain meds and was crying, feeling overwhelmed and sad. I shut the door and sat on the end of her bed and rubbed her back softly. She stopped crying long enough to spurt out a line that almost made me cry. "I'm sorry, I know I'm a problem patient and that I'm taking time away from other patients. I know I'm a pain in your ass." I stopped. Patients don't just come up with that kind of stuff on their own.
"You are not a pain in my ass and if my other patients needed something there are other aides on the floor to help me, hell there are even nurses." I replied, continuing to rub her back. She sobbed and kept apologizing and wincing in pain. "You know, this is gonna make you such a good nurse." I said.
"How do you figure?" She replied.
"Well, when your patients are going through this and dealing with the pain you will be able to honestly tell them you know their pain, you know the situation." She rolled over and I handed her a box of Kleenex. "Some of these RN's graduate and are frankly snitty, they are mean and have no idea what the deal is. If this was light and fluffy and fun you would do this from home where you could wear your own stuff. You are gonna be able to be such a cool, compassionate nurse."
She smiled a small smile and embraced me, then asked me to help her figure out pain meds, which she immediately received and she was able to sleep through the night. Before I left I packaged my bracelet with a small note and placed it on her tray, knowing that when she awoke it would be there for her. From one student to another.
As I sat down to give report I felt good about myself and my shift. I did lots of things I don't generally do. Lots of UA's, lots of DCing foleys, and lots of things I do often, vitals and blood sugars. The other aides sat down next to me at the table and we all awaited to give report to each other. As I began report to the aide sitting closest to me I watched her pop a diet coke and chug it, then slam it down and stare at me oddly. As I watched this I felt awkward and had an odd gut feeling. Report finished on my other patients and now it was time for the patient I was most worried about.
"Oh my gosh she is such a snot. Every hour she is in pain- its like boo-frickin-hoo get over it."
My jaw dropped. "Her diagnosis is EXTREMELY painful, I have seen the strongest, most tough of men drop to the ground when they have it. Don't you dare." Then I finished report, complete with her eye rolling and her shitty comments. My stomach churned. My mind raced.
I found the other aide and asked her to keep an eye on my patient. As she agreed she asked why, I explained and her jaw dropped. We both agreed this was something that needed to be addressed to the charge nurse. I hate tattling on my colleagues but this was out of control. As I told the charge nurse she looked up at me worriedly.
"That's bull." She said. I nodded. "Dani, I appreciate you telling me about this. Its a hard thing to do, but its whats best for the patient." Then she looked to the board and quietly sighed. "But no other patient will take her as their aide."
As I left work I felt bad that I told on her. I feel bad that my patient was depressed. But I felt good, knowing that I did my job and I did it damn well.
At the hospital I always try to remember that. During my training as a CNA and as an EMT the school where I got my training always had us remember one thing - if you're gonna do it to a patient you better do it to yourself first. I have been restrained as a psych patient. I have had to wear a c-collar for hours at a time, I have been rolled, moved and repositioned, I have had thickened foods and mushy meals. I have ingested activated charcoal and had glucose ground into my gums. I have been the patient, but it has truly helped me be a better caregiver. I can explain the patient what it is in my own words, and tell them that I have done those things before.
Last night I had young patients, which is rare enough as it is, let alone patients who know the system, both of them working in medicine and working towards their RN. As I received report on one of them the NSI I got report from got quiet and looked sadly as he started to explain the situation about the patient.
'I'm not gonna name names,' He said sadly clicking his pen and pausing, as if he was wondering whether to tell me or not. 'But the aide last night was really mean to the patient and must have told her she is being a baby about her pain or something because all morning the patient made comments about being a baby and being in 'too much pain', because of this her pain is out of control, she is now very emotional and is not doing well. She works in a hospital, she knows whats going on.'
Sadly I nodded, whoever the aide was better not find me because my wrath for shit like that isn't right. I started my shift and found my patient to be just like the rest of us aides, a good kid just trying to make it to living the dream. As I worked with her I felt angry, how dare someone do that to another human being.
At one point in the night the patient was feeling anxious, was maxed out on pain meds and was crying, feeling overwhelmed and sad. I shut the door and sat on the end of her bed and rubbed her back softly. She stopped crying long enough to spurt out a line that almost made me cry. "I'm sorry, I know I'm a problem patient and that I'm taking time away from other patients. I know I'm a pain in your ass." I stopped. Patients don't just come up with that kind of stuff on their own.
"You are not a pain in my ass and if my other patients needed something there are other aides on the floor to help me, hell there are even nurses." I replied, continuing to rub her back. She sobbed and kept apologizing and wincing in pain. "You know, this is gonna make you such a good nurse." I said.
"How do you figure?" She replied.
"Well, when your patients are going through this and dealing with the pain you will be able to honestly tell them you know their pain, you know the situation." She rolled over and I handed her a box of Kleenex. "Some of these RN's graduate and are frankly snitty, they are mean and have no idea what the deal is. If this was light and fluffy and fun you would do this from home where you could wear your own stuff. You are gonna be able to be such a cool, compassionate nurse."
She smiled a small smile and embraced me, then asked me to help her figure out pain meds, which she immediately received and she was able to sleep through the night. Before I left I packaged my bracelet with a small note and placed it on her tray, knowing that when she awoke it would be there for her. From one student to another.
As I sat down to give report I felt good about myself and my shift. I did lots of things I don't generally do. Lots of UA's, lots of DCing foleys, and lots of things I do often, vitals and blood sugars. The other aides sat down next to me at the table and we all awaited to give report to each other. As I began report to the aide sitting closest to me I watched her pop a diet coke and chug it, then slam it down and stare at me oddly. As I watched this I felt awkward and had an odd gut feeling. Report finished on my other patients and now it was time for the patient I was most worried about.
"Oh my gosh she is such a snot. Every hour she is in pain- its like boo-frickin-hoo get over it."
My jaw dropped. "Her diagnosis is EXTREMELY painful, I have seen the strongest, most tough of men drop to the ground when they have it. Don't you dare." Then I finished report, complete with her eye rolling and her shitty comments. My stomach churned. My mind raced.
I found the other aide and asked her to keep an eye on my patient. As she agreed she asked why, I explained and her jaw dropped. We both agreed this was something that needed to be addressed to the charge nurse. I hate tattling on my colleagues but this was out of control. As I told the charge nurse she looked up at me worriedly.
"That's bull." She said. I nodded. "Dani, I appreciate you telling me about this. Its a hard thing to do, but its whats best for the patient." Then she looked to the board and quietly sighed. "But no other patient will take her as their aide."
As I left work I felt bad that I told on her. I feel bad that my patient was depressed. But I felt good, knowing that I did my job and I did it damn well.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Addiction
Everyone, and I mean everyone has an addiction.
It may not be the typical kind of addictions we hear about all the time on or the disastrous kinds we read about, but everyone has one. Over the last few weeks I have had some terribly rough nights at work, dealing with patients who have been admitted to our hospital for addictions- but as one of the night nurses I work with has always said;
'EVERYONE have a vice, EVERYONE has an addiction, and it will be their own downfall.'
It's true.
I have friends who have chosen caffeine as their addiction. I know members of my extended family who have chosen food. I have friends who have found themselves addicted to lighter things, like popular movies and television shows. I know nurses who have chosen sugar and candy. But we don't see most of these as addictions, and they really are. But it took someone who needed that extra hit of Demerol to help me realize this
My addictions won't kill me, and society won't look down at me for them, but I have them. My addictions are simple things that get me through the day, such as caffeine when I'm working anything more than 4 hours, or Grey's Anatomy re-runs to get me through days off.
In medicine a lot of people judge, and the more I work my secondary unit the more I realize it is true. We are taught not to judge, we are taught not to discriminate, but we are human.
I hate that the staff does this. I understand their thinking, but its difficult for me to want to agree with them. (Thank goodness we only have to help our patients with their addictions for 8 hours, think about living with it.) Yes, working with a drug addict is time consuming and hard to do, but its also very insightful.
Last night I had a few patients working on their own addiction. And I did what I do every shift during downtime.
I asked myself 'what can I learn from these patients?'
Do not misunderstand me by any means- I am not supporting their addictions because its a painful, expensive and life altering vice. But we are more like our patients than we think- and all we can do is treat them like family, and absorb as much knowledge as we can from them.
Addiction is a painful thing. Its also an incredibly simple one.
http://www.helpguide.org/
It may not be the typical kind of addictions we hear about all the time on or the disastrous kinds we read about, but everyone has one. Over the last few weeks I have had some terribly rough nights at work, dealing with patients who have been admitted to our hospital for addictions- but as one of the night nurses I work with has always said;
'EVERYONE have a vice, EVERYONE has an addiction, and it will be their own downfall.'
It's true.
I have friends who have chosen caffeine as their addiction. I know members of my extended family who have chosen food. I have friends who have found themselves addicted to lighter things, like popular movies and television shows. I know nurses who have chosen sugar and candy. But we don't see most of these as addictions, and they really are. But it took someone who needed that extra hit of Demerol to help me realize this
My addictions won't kill me, and society won't look down at me for them, but I have them. My addictions are simple things that get me through the day, such as caffeine when I'm working anything more than 4 hours, or Grey's Anatomy re-runs to get me through days off.
In medicine a lot of people judge, and the more I work my secondary unit the more I realize it is true. We are taught not to judge, we are taught not to discriminate, but we are human.
I hate that the staff does this. I understand their thinking, but its difficult for me to want to agree with them. (Thank goodness we only have to help our patients with their addictions for 8 hours, think about living with it.) Yes, working with a drug addict is time consuming and hard to do, but its also very insightful.
Last night I had a few patients working on their own addiction. And I did what I do every shift during downtime.
I asked myself 'what can I learn from these patients?'
The answer is simple: We are all in fact, human. They have judgements, just as we do. They have addictions, so do we. And when they fail themselves, they feel the same way we do- we feel human.
Do not misunderstand me by any means- I am not supporting their addictions because its a painful, expensive and life altering vice. But we are more like our patients than we think- and all we can do is treat them like family, and absorb as much knowledge as we can from them.
Addiction is a painful thing. Its also an incredibly simple one.
http://www.helpguide.org/
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