Last night was offically my last shift for the next 12 weeks. After that I am going to become an 'assistant' and do all the paperwork and such that the charges can't keep up with. It was an easy shift- all great patients who needed no lifts or special care. My problem was that I did some lifts and today I am hurting.
At this point I have accepted that I will be having surgery. I have also accepted the fact that its for a good reason. When Im awake only 3 hours and immediately need pain meds, it's a good thing. Somehow within he last few weeks it must have damaged more, but I'm gonna fix it.
Yep, I'm still terrified. I am still scared, but its not as bad. The fear of my boss seeing me naked isn't as bad. My catherter is in when I am out and is removed before I wake up. My bupivicane block will prevent pain for the first few days.
On the day of surgery I have asked that my fiance post for me. I may wake up early and post something. He will post photos, updates, and anything else he sees fit. I will see it all later on, so don't be afraid to comment or e-mail! As soon as I am used to the heavy narcs and can see straight (lortab makes me fuzzy) I will post again.
Until then guys, BSI
Showing posts with label scared. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scared. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Longest Night of My Life
As cool as it was to see a GSW to the face, three level 1 traumas air lifted in and all sorts of drunks and drug OD's, my night in the ER was not a fun one.
A friend of mine called me, saying she was feeling suicidal. EMS laws in my state say that if someone tells you that and your an EMT- you gotta do something or you could be in trouble if she follows through with it. So I took her to the ER.
Made for a long night.
Note to self (and others): Off the clock those same laws don't apply. Thank goodness the social worker told me that or I'd be in deep shit with her family.
Now if y'all will excuse me I have a face-numbing headache and body aches to match that of a MVA. I'm going to bed!
A friend of mine called me, saying she was feeling suicidal. EMS laws in my state say that if someone tells you that and your an EMT- you gotta do something or you could be in trouble if she follows through with it. So I took her to the ER.
Made for a long night.
Note to self (and others): Off the clock those same laws don't apply. Thank goodness the social worker told me that or I'd be in deep shit with her family.
Now if y'all will excuse me I have a face-numbing headache and body aches to match that of a MVA. I'm going to bed!
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Brought to my Knees
Great Paramedics are not born. Saving lives is not genetically programmed into you. Being great is something that you have to become, and greatness is not an easy thing to be. You could study paramedicine for years and still be one of the worst Paramedics ever. Great Paramedics are the true heroes, because to become good, you had to go through hell, mediocre, drama, death and heaven only knows what else. To become GREAT you must go through more.
Last night it hit me why I am doing all of this. I was denied into EMT-Intermediate school because of my shoulder. I struggled through EMT-Basic and other classes nearly killed me, trying to do lifts, techniques, etc. I signed up for health insurance and went to the best of the best for a reason- so that I can get on with my life. Never thinking twice about anything due to my young age I didn't stop to realize that this wasn't all bad drama. Most of it is for the best.
It is so hard to see the good in this when I am out most of the week due to pain. I am on Ultram most of the time to control pain and swelling until my surgery date. I sleep with an icepack on my shoulder now because its the easiest way to wake up in small amounts of pain. It's hard to plan and prepare for a surgery that I don't want. But I need it.
During this past week I went to the mall for some surgery friendly clothes. Knowing I would only have one arm I realized scrubs and sweats were all I could live in for those 6-10 weeks. However I have never owned a pair of sweats, so I had to go find some. Dressing room to dressing room I went, with a soft sling and strapping my arm up so that I had to put it on one handed. I found lots of sweats and that was an easy task.
Then came tube tops (which came doctor recommended due to my sling I will have). I went into the dressing room with a few tops, and explained to the store employee what the deal was. She rolled her eyes and sighed but I continued to try them on one handed. Halfway through trying them on she called me out, and accused me of stealing. When I tried to change back into my clothes the door knocked again. She had called security who proceeded to check my bags and my purse. I again explained to them, I was even wearing my shoulder support brace, which is big, black and bulky. Impossible to hide.
This morning I woke up sick. Spent a good portion of my day at the doctors office, only to be given antibiotics with a hope that they will work. He still doesn't know what it is, but he narrowed it down to two. Sadly the gal who drew my blood missed and stuck me twice, something that rarely happens. I'm already bruised- its quite awesome really. I have done blood draws on myself so it somewhat shocks me when others miss.
It is so hard to see the bright side in all of this. Most girls my age are in sorority's and worried about getting a boys attention. Instead I am worried about patients and surgeries and applying to Paramedic school and everything else in between. BUT it really is for the best.
One day I am going to be an amazing Paramedic. I am going to be able to start lines, drop tubes, run codes and give meds like no ones business. One day I am going to be able to lift stretchers, save lives and have compassion and give care like no other Paramedic. But that one day will have to come after a long extensive surgery (5 hours) and a long recovery period (16 weeks). However, when I get post-surgical patients and broken bones I will be able to understand what my patient is going through. When I put someone in my rig I will understand the fear they feel. I will understand the worry, the stress and the pain. This will make me better.
Being able to be down for awhile will give me the time I need to slow down and think. It will give me time to research Paramedic programs and plan out how I will go about getting there. I will be able to know that I am being taught the best of the best and that I am going to graduate with the knowledge I need to be that great Paramedic.
Reading up on other blogs I came to realize that other Paramedics who are great have been through hell and back, and that they too have been brought to their knees. So tonight I fall to my knees and drop my voice to a whisper as I cry and pray for those other medics, and then pray for myself. Asking for help is not an easy thing to do, but it's the smart thing to do when you know you need it.
Last night it hit me why I am doing all of this. I was denied into EMT-Intermediate school because of my shoulder. I struggled through EMT-Basic and other classes nearly killed me, trying to do lifts, techniques, etc. I signed up for health insurance and went to the best of the best for a reason- so that I can get on with my life. Never thinking twice about anything due to my young age I didn't stop to realize that this wasn't all bad drama. Most of it is for the best.
It is so hard to see the good in this when I am out most of the week due to pain. I am on Ultram most of the time to control pain and swelling until my surgery date. I sleep with an icepack on my shoulder now because its the easiest way to wake up in small amounts of pain. It's hard to plan and prepare for a surgery that I don't want. But I need it.
During this past week I went to the mall for some surgery friendly clothes. Knowing I would only have one arm I realized scrubs and sweats were all I could live in for those 6-10 weeks. However I have never owned a pair of sweats, so I had to go find some. Dressing room to dressing room I went, with a soft sling and strapping my arm up so that I had to put it on one handed. I found lots of sweats and that was an easy task.
Then came tube tops (which came doctor recommended due to my sling I will have). I went into the dressing room with a few tops, and explained to the store employee what the deal was. She rolled her eyes and sighed but I continued to try them on one handed. Halfway through trying them on she called me out, and accused me of stealing. When I tried to change back into my clothes the door knocked again. She had called security who proceeded to check my bags and my purse. I again explained to them, I was even wearing my shoulder support brace, which is big, black and bulky. Impossible to hide.
This morning I woke up sick. Spent a good portion of my day at the doctors office, only to be given antibiotics with a hope that they will work. He still doesn't know what it is, but he narrowed it down to two. Sadly the gal who drew my blood missed and stuck me twice, something that rarely happens. I'm already bruised- its quite awesome really. I have done blood draws on myself so it somewhat shocks me when others miss.
It is so hard to see the bright side in all of this. Most girls my age are in sorority's and worried about getting a boys attention. Instead I am worried about patients and surgeries and applying to Paramedic school and everything else in between. BUT it really is for the best.
One day I am going to be an amazing Paramedic. I am going to be able to start lines, drop tubes, run codes and give meds like no ones business. One day I am going to be able to lift stretchers, save lives and have compassion and give care like no other Paramedic. But that one day will have to come after a long extensive surgery (5 hours) and a long recovery period (16 weeks). However, when I get post-surgical patients and broken bones I will be able to understand what my patient is going through. When I put someone in my rig I will understand the fear they feel. I will understand the worry, the stress and the pain. This will make me better.
Being able to be down for awhile will give me the time I need to slow down and think. It will give me time to research Paramedic programs and plan out how I will go about getting there. I will be able to know that I am being taught the best of the best and that I am going to graduate with the knowledge I need to be that great Paramedic.
Reading up on other blogs I came to realize that other Paramedics who are great have been through hell and back, and that they too have been brought to their knees. So tonight I fall to my knees and drop my voice to a whisper as I cry and pray for those other medics, and then pray for myself. Asking for help is not an easy thing to do, but it's the smart thing to do when you know you need it.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Just Do It
You haven't heard alot from me lately bloggers, and with good reason. It's been a busy week or two, working with school, picking up extra shifts and working longer ones than expected and having long sleepless nights just to talk about life and all those damn in-betweens that go on from your goal and where you are now.
The job is good, the job is great. Lately it's been a big stress and an even bigger hassle. At my hospital we have an extra unit called a 'float unit' where we hire RN's, CNA's and LPN's who go to any unit that needs extra staff. It's a helpful unit, however recently we had an issue with a float CNA at my unit. She was causing problems, being snitty and even yelling at patients. She wanted to order food, so we okayed her to order in a pizza. Both nurses told her no meat and I told her no heavy garlic (I am allergic.) She ordered a chicken garlic pizza. We all ate one piece just to make her feel better, but I was sure regretting it. She rode equipment around and sand loudly in spanish, making it hard for the patients to sleep. I work nights, you don't make noise. At the end of the shift everyone was appaled when management offered her a job. Needless to say we panicked and had to speak up. Luckily they listen to us and she will not be my new partner.
Monday I am set to get a contrast MRI done. I am really nervous but am glad that I am doing it where I work. My co-workers are all awesome people, and I honestly do trust them to do a good job. They do it whether they know I am a patient or not. Wednesday I am all set for a follow-up with my shoulder surgeon.
I'm gonna do it. I am going to have my surgery. The ideal date to do it on would be in November, right before Thanksgiving. It's not that I want to ruin the holidays, It's that I would get lots of holiday pay while I am out. It's going to be a long 12 weeks, so here is hoping that there are some decent holiday specials. My nurses are amazing and have helped me plan out my leave from the day of sugery to the day I want to get back. They are even trying to get me to work more hours over there, instead of the med/surg unit, so that I don't ruin a fresh surgery.
Meanwhile the boy is still in POST and is loving it. He comes home excited every night trying to convince me to let him do the things he was taught in class. Last night he learned searches, so he felt up everybody he could find, including his grandma. For awhile there, I was worried about him being a cop, thinking that he wouldn't do so great at it, but now, he is doing awesome.
The job is good, the job is great. Lately it's been a big stress and an even bigger hassle. At my hospital we have an extra unit called a 'float unit' where we hire RN's, CNA's and LPN's who go to any unit that needs extra staff. It's a helpful unit, however recently we had an issue with a float CNA at my unit. She was causing problems, being snitty and even yelling at patients. She wanted to order food, so we okayed her to order in a pizza. Both nurses told her no meat and I told her no heavy garlic (I am allergic.) She ordered a chicken garlic pizza. We all ate one piece just to make her feel better, but I was sure regretting it. She rode equipment around and sand loudly in spanish, making it hard for the patients to sleep. I work nights, you don't make noise. At the end of the shift everyone was appaled when management offered her a job. Needless to say we panicked and had to speak up. Luckily they listen to us and she will not be my new partner.
Monday I am set to get a contrast MRI done. I am really nervous but am glad that I am doing it where I work. My co-workers are all awesome people, and I honestly do trust them to do a good job. They do it whether they know I am a patient or not. Wednesday I am all set for a follow-up with my shoulder surgeon.
I'm gonna do it. I am going to have my surgery. The ideal date to do it on would be in November, right before Thanksgiving. It's not that I want to ruin the holidays, It's that I would get lots of holiday pay while I am out. It's going to be a long 12 weeks, so here is hoping that there are some decent holiday specials. My nurses are amazing and have helped me plan out my leave from the day of sugery to the day I want to get back. They are even trying to get me to work more hours over there, instead of the med/surg unit, so that I don't ruin a fresh surgery.
Meanwhile the boy is still in POST and is loving it. He comes home excited every night trying to convince me to let him do the things he was taught in class. Last night he learned searches, so he felt up everybody he could find, including his grandma. For awhile there, I was worried about him being a cop, thinking that he wouldn't do so great at it, but now, he is doing awesome.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Operation.
It hasn't hit me yet. I wonder when it will hit me, or if it will until I finally decide to go with it. The entirety of it all still makes me believe that it was a dream. I am known to have vivid, colored dreams jam-packed with drama and bad news. Maybe it was just a bad dream.
The surgeon I visited for my shoulder surgery came by today and spoke with me and the nurse for a few moments. Knowing he was still here I was waiting for his patient and dismissed the thought of him being the one I needed to meet with to discuss my surgery further. As I got the supplies for a new admit ready I thought back to one of the many reasons I don't want to do the surgery yet.
___
It was six in the morning, time for residents to come by and review patient information and situation. After letting them do their rounds with their assigned patients I approached one. "You are Dr.Shoulder's resident right?" I asked.
"Yeah, what do you want?" He asked harshly, never looking up from his paperwork.
"I was wondering if you knew where I could find a shoulder stabilization brace. Preferably one made out of neoprene. Does that have to be written as a prescription or-"
"What the hell makes you think you need one of those?" He asked harshly looking up to me. "You don't need one." He said and returned to his paperwork. Angry I stepped towards him and put my hand on his chart. My pulse raced, my adrenaline began flowing through my veins and my mind was geared on one thing.
"Dr.Shoulder told me I need a shoulder stabilization procedure. I cannot have this surgery done. I need a frickin' brace so that when I get your patient out of bed I wont injure them or myself further. You gonna help me or you gonna be an ass?" I snarled, feeling my orneriness taking over. He slammed the chart shut and walked off. He decided he was going to be an ass .
____
As I heard the voices of Nurse California and Dr. Shoulder I stopped and smiled, saying a quiet hello.
"Yeah, Nurse Cali, I agree, she needs it done soon so that she can be more beneficial as an aide, but it will also improve quality of life." He said, almost an exact quote from what he had told me when I sat in his office. They both looked to me as they leaned against the Nurses station.
"You need that shoulder surgery." She said, giving me a knowing look. I smiled and felt guilty for not even trying to pursue it yet. "We are gonna help you figure out a time when you can do it."
As I looked at the calendar and tried to plan out dates and times and how exactly to make this happen I kept letting my mind wander. It is something I have learned to live with. It is something that is a part of my life now, and I have adapted to it. Not even the MRI and the Xrays have let me know that it is real, and at this point I am positive I won't be feeling reality until I am in a gown going under TIVA.
Sometimes being young and naive isn't as awesome as we all believe it to be. This is one of those cases I wish I was more grown up and could handle this like one.
How can I make it more real? And how can I convince myself that I need to do this, and soon, before I shred it up even more?
The surgeon I visited for my shoulder surgery came by today and spoke with me and the nurse for a few moments. Knowing he was still here I was waiting for his patient and dismissed the thought of him being the one I needed to meet with to discuss my surgery further. As I got the supplies for a new admit ready I thought back to one of the many reasons I don't want to do the surgery yet.
___
It was six in the morning, time for residents to come by and review patient information and situation. After letting them do their rounds with their assigned patients I approached one. "You are Dr.Shoulder's resident right?" I asked.
"Yeah, what do you want?" He asked harshly, never looking up from his paperwork.
"I was wondering if you knew where I could find a shoulder stabilization brace. Preferably one made out of neoprene. Does that have to be written as a prescription or-"
"What the hell makes you think you need one of those?" He asked harshly looking up to me. "You don't need one." He said and returned to his paperwork. Angry I stepped towards him and put my hand on his chart. My pulse raced, my adrenaline began flowing through my veins and my mind was geared on one thing.
"Dr.Shoulder told me I need a shoulder stabilization procedure. I cannot have this surgery done. I need a frickin' brace so that when I get your patient out of bed I wont injure them or myself further. You gonna help me or you gonna be an ass?" I snarled, feeling my orneriness taking over. He slammed the chart shut and walked off. He decided he was going to be an ass .
____
As I heard the voices of Nurse California and Dr. Shoulder I stopped and smiled, saying a quiet hello.
"Yeah, Nurse Cali, I agree, she needs it done soon so that she can be more beneficial as an aide, but it will also improve quality of life." He said, almost an exact quote from what he had told me when I sat in his office. They both looked to me as they leaned against the Nurses station.
"You need that shoulder surgery." She said, giving me a knowing look. I smiled and felt guilty for not even trying to pursue it yet. "We are gonna help you figure out a time when you can do it."
As I looked at the calendar and tried to plan out dates and times and how exactly to make this happen I kept letting my mind wander. It is something I have learned to live with. It is something that is a part of my life now, and I have adapted to it. Not even the MRI and the Xrays have let me know that it is real, and at this point I am positive I won't be feeling reality until I am in a gown going under TIVA.
Sometimes being young and naive isn't as awesome as we all believe it to be. This is one of those cases I wish I was more grown up and could handle this like one.
How can I make it more real? And how can I convince myself that I need to do this, and soon, before I shred it up even more?
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.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Girl Who Lived
Bad nights at work make it that much harder to blog about the next day, and all because I hate to whine, but last night, was one of the worst.Actually arriving an hour early to work, I decided to wander the massive hospital and see what I could discover. It only took me two minutes to find the ED and I was hooked, however I was quickly asked to leave and ended up escorting a patient back to their room, which happened to be on my unit, so I stayed put and studied up on my EMT stuff. After a decent study period I clocked in and started my shift. I had the good section of the unit, almost all private rooms and lots of discharges.
'The nurses must love me.' I thought. This attitude quickly changed.
Suddenly we are halted from entering one of my patients room, and she is on the call light. I suddenly become aware that doctors are everywhere and I quietly stand by the charge nurses desk to try to figure out whats going on. Guess what? The diagnosis wasa respiratory precaution, (I'm sure one of you can guess which one it was) and since lots of us had been in and out of that room, we had all been exposed. Luckily the staff was awfully quick in fitting us for a respirator, and I had to have the one that looked like a spacesuit. I was scared, and moreover, I was worried. This was my 'dirty unit', and during the rest of the week I work in a 'sterile feild,' I didn't want to miss out on work in the unit I loved.
When I saw the patient I cursed myself for not going in there sooner. I cursed myself for not volunteering to help her, and for being as worried as I let myself be. Here was a human being who was sick, scared and now here we are in space suits, she was human, and we weren't treating her as such. We were treating her like her diagnosis.
I couldn't keep up with the work load, and patients were yelling at me for this. Other aides wouldn't help me with my call lights and I was frusterated. Gearing up took 10 minutes, so getting to my one patient took about 15 minutes. Helping others to the restroom usually took 10 minutes, last night took 20. Things were falling behind and noone wanted to listen.
Report was the most frutsterating. The aides wouldn't listen, they wanted to read what the 'computer said.' Well, the computer was wrong on almost ALL the diagnosis' and was simply for the HUC's purpose. Finally, I had to explain my respiratory precautions patient to the new aide. She was a sweet gal, but she really didn't understand why she needed to go in there at all. "But we will be exposed!" She said.
"Yes, we will, but if you wear this respirator and report that you went in there, then you will be okay, they will fill out the appropriate paperwork and if you have symptoms, call and you will get the time off work." I looked at her and turned off the monitor so that she could look at me. "She is scared. She is sick and she is human." I said slowly, the aide looked confused and I told her the diagnosis. The aide's face fell.
"She has WHAT?!?" she exclaimed. I nodded, that was pretty much my reaction too.
"She is scared. She is sick. It is our JOB to care for her. She is the same as any other patient, you just wear a respirator." As she wrote down the details I sat back in the chair and exhaled slowly. Patient's yelling at me, threats for following simple orders, scary diagnosis', and all the crap in between. I love my job, and last night, I did my job, but not as well as I wanted to. And I HATE that.
'The nurses must love me.' I thought. This attitude quickly changed.
Suddenly we are halted from entering one of my patients room, and she is on the call light. I suddenly become aware that doctors are everywhere and I quietly stand by the charge nurses desk to try to figure out whats going on. Guess what? The diagnosis wasa respiratory precaution, (I'm sure one of you can guess which one it was) and since lots of us had been in and out of that room, we had all been exposed. Luckily the staff was awfully quick in fitting us for a respirator, and I had to have the one that looked like a spacesuit. I was scared, and moreover, I was worried. This was my 'dirty unit', and during the rest of the week I work in a 'sterile feild,' I didn't want to miss out on work in the unit I loved.
When I saw the patient I cursed myself for not going in there sooner. I cursed myself for not volunteering to help her, and for being as worried as I let myself be. Here was a human being who was sick, scared and now here we are in space suits, she was human, and we weren't treating her as such. We were treating her like her diagnosis.
I couldn't keep up with the work load, and patients were yelling at me for this. Other aides wouldn't help me with my call lights and I was frusterated. Gearing up took 10 minutes, so getting to my one patient took about 15 minutes. Helping others to the restroom usually took 10 minutes, last night took 20. Things were falling behind and noone wanted to listen.
Report was the most frutsterating. The aides wouldn't listen, they wanted to read what the 'computer said.' Well, the computer was wrong on almost ALL the diagnosis' and was simply for the HUC's purpose. Finally, I had to explain my respiratory precautions patient to the new aide. She was a sweet gal, but she really didn't understand why she needed to go in there at all. "But we will be exposed!" She said.
"Yes, we will, but if you wear this respirator and report that you went in there, then you will be okay, they will fill out the appropriate paperwork and if you have symptoms, call and you will get the time off work." I looked at her and turned off the monitor so that she could look at me. "She is scared. She is sick and she is human." I said slowly, the aide looked confused and I told her the diagnosis. The aide's face fell.
"She has WHAT?!?" she exclaimed. I nodded, that was pretty much my reaction too.
"She is scared. She is sick. It is our JOB to care for her. She is the same as any other patient, you just wear a respirator." As she wrote down the details I sat back in the chair and exhaled slowly. Patient's yelling at me, threats for following simple orders, scary diagnosis', and all the crap in between. I love my job, and last night, I did my job, but not as well as I wanted to. And I HATE that.
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