My Escape

After way too many hours in bed I decided that I was to escape and find some fun. At first I figured I would try to help my brother and mom, but all sorts of plans kept falling through. After an hour of simply driving aimlessly I ended up coming to a conclusion. 'I want to go to the beach.'

So I did! I went to the gas station and loaded up on goodies and then made the way down to the beach, where I took off my shoes and let my toes wiggle through the sand. However, anyone who knows me and where I live, I don't live near an ocean, I don't live near a lake I can swim in. But I found this body of water (an exceptionally large one) the perfect place to escape. Even though its not an ocean the makeup was just like one; a salty breeze, seagulls crowing overhead and the water calmly lapping up and onto the sand.

It was the rejuivnation I needed to get me through the rest of the day, through my 4 hour shift, the visit to see my friends newborn baby (who is adorable BTW!) and even to our nightly 4 mile walk. Sadly though, I got sick and had to quit walking after about a mile and a half.

Today I have been exhausted, wondering if I overdid it. The stomach bug had seemed to past but today the nausea was still there. I'll blame my aunt, according to my mother she had this last week. From the looks of the work schedule you bloggers will have to read about my stomach bug and about my attempt to learn how to shoot a gun.

The Rantings and Ramblings of a Sick Person

I hate it when I am sick. Let me repeat that one in case I wasn't clear enough; I am not good at being sick, I don't know how to handle it, I get in the way and just plain out hate being sick. This hate grows when it is something lame like the stomach flu (which is exactly what I have).

It was a nice excuse to call in sick to my Monday unit, but unfortunately I got bored rather quickly. The camping out in the bathroom became fewer and farther between and my fiance made me chicken noodle soup and agreed to chick flicks with me, but I still needed stuff to do. When I got caught folding clothes, I got in trouble. When I got caught tidying up the room, trouble. When I got caught helping put away the food and clean up the kitchen, trouble. It is a food posioning bug, I'm not gonna contaminate it all as if it was swine flu!

Since the uneventful events from yesterday I have held down an english muffin and am very much looking forward to more solids, and less time spent BSing on the computer and in bed. Not even reruns of Scrubs are doing it for me this time- I'm rearing to get back into action!

"You must be good at your job." My future mother in law commented as we spoke last night. I looked up to her, confused and asked her why. "Cause you suck at the other part of the equation." I looked to my fiance and smiled sheepishly.

A text of all the wonderful things I can do before attempting to get ready for work just beeped in on my phone and I sighed, sadly. All the bridal mags that are available have been purchased and read. I'm sick of using the computer, because after so long I get a headache, and excedrin doesn't sit well in an upset stomach. I have read both Peter Canning books that I own, and have watched enough Discovery Health and Tru TV to get me through the rest of the month.

I guess people don't understand me, don't understand what I do. I help people, and I do it because I don't need the help that others do. My job is not about me, my life isn't about me, its about everything else. Its incredibly hard for me to be selfish, to even think about being the patient, because I'm not the patient, I am the white coat, the blue scrubs and the stethoscope around the neck. But alas, as I migrate onto real food and attempt to feel better (still an upset tummy, but no vomiting!) I will have to stay in bed for at least a couple more hours to please the fiance and the mothers- something I REALLY hate to do.

2 Panic Attacks, 2 Saves

After a lot of deliberation I decided to be candid and post it all

Thursday we had a weird shift, an extra aide and an extra nurse added to our mix and a lot of stress as we tried to teach them the ways of our unit and take care of our patients appropriately. A certain patient had been on the call light asking for pain meds continuously, and I reminded the nurse to remember his pain meds before too much more time passed. The nurse flipped out and got angry with me, claiming that I was telling her how to care for her patient. The extra aide walked into the patient room (it was her patient) and helped him settle again and stop the screaming and moaning, while the nurse went ahead to ream me a new one...and I wasn't sure why.

" You don't tell me how to take care of my patients. He can't have pain meds for another hour. Can't you read these? Let me tell you what I'm doing, I'm dealing with a little girl that could be dying." She said standing nose-to-nose with me. I'm not allowed to touch the pain meds, access the Omnicell they come in let alone suggest that pain meds are coming. I am not allowed to read the medicaion reports, meds are strictly for nurses. I was amazed that she was assuming all of this.

"Everyone is someone who could be dying." I replied, meaner than what I wanted to be. "I am just asking that a patient be taken care of, if it aint time for meds, it aint time. Thats fine, do what you were doing, I'm just doing MY job." The nurse pulled in closer to me.

"Listen to me you little shit, you're being inappropriate." I looked to our other nurse, who was called in to assist who shook her head and mouthed to me 'no your not, no your not'.

"Me doing MY job is inappropriate?!" I asked. "Well then do tell me what is appropriate." I said leaning back in my chair, just waiting to hear her explaination.

"I'm gonna write your ass up!" She yelled going into the patient room. "I am gonna have your license revoked. You are a worthless aide and I have no honest idea why they hired you!" I shook my head and fought back tears. 'What a bitch.' I thought, then gathered my things. I was off in 1.5 hrs anyways, I figured she was gonna send me home. As she returned from the patient room she glared at me. "What do you think your doing?" She yelled.

"I'm thinking ahead." I said, setting my bag down and organizing a few items.

"Don't think your going anywhere." She snarled and I lost it. I felt a hot tear hit my cheek and I looked up to her. The day had been rough. First my biological mother had gotten mad at me, my future mother in law was not happy with me, and now my co-workers and adult example was pulling this off-the-wall stunt. She heard me sniff and watched me excuse myself from the unit, then grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me outside to yell at me some more.

After it was all said and done, I don't remember the entire conversation, I don't remember what was said or done, but I do remember having my first set of panic attacks. I do remember realizing what was wrong with me and trying to focus on just calming down as she yelled at me some more. I sat on the floor, thinking 'inhale, exhale, breathe Dani, breathe.'

___________

Friday I wore a set of scrubs I never wear. My hair was out of place and my makeup was only half done. I was still in a funk from Thursday night and I had no intention of trying to get out of it alive. After a long pep-talk from the nurse who yelled at me I started to work.

I did everything I needed to do and then more. Glucoses were done, rechecked and noted correctly. Vitals were done for my Q4's and Post-Operatively and the patients had lots of ice packs and snacks to keep them comfortable. Urinals and foleys were emptied and I had even help a few patients walk the halls before going to bed for the night. Things were going well. The nurse and I had nothing more to say to each other about last night and we even joked about wedding dresses (I was browsing at our slow points) and my fiance wearing a kilt to the wedding. Things picked up again at 0200 and I jumped back into action.

The patient we had gotten in the arguement over the night before was yelling in pain, gripping the bed rails with white knuckles and yelling loudly. Either he had bad nerve receptors or the bupivicaine block simply wasn't working, either way we had to take care of him. I decided to pack both of his surgical sites (they were casted) with gel packs, figuring the more ice, the better to help his pain. I never touched his cast, but I touched the blankets and pillows around it gently and he screamed loudly in pain. "STOP!" He yelled. "You're killing me! I am gonna die here!"

I hurried to his head and held his hand, encouraging him that he wasn't going to die on my watch or at my hospital. As he calmed down I heard his pulse ox machine beep loudly and I looked up. The kid was on 2L 02 and had his sats drop to 60 and his pulse was 100 before, was reading 210 now. I yelled to his nurse who didn't help me, so I started to asses him before I dared push the code button.

"Breathe!" I yelled to him pushing his O2 up to 6L. "Hey!" I yelled, shaking him and making him focus on me. "You are gonna need to breathe." In all honesty, he was breathing, and it was an adequate inhale and exhale, which is what scared me. We got him breathing normally and I shouted to the nurse again, his pulse was 164 taken manually. Either way, for a healthy young man, that was bad. As I continued my assessment on him and tried to help him stablilize the nurse busted in and I gave my quick report on him. She told me to go get a face mask and more ice packs and I did so, by this time he was stablilized. She had the ambu bag lying out at the head of his bed and he was breathing normally. I grabbed his hand and rubbed his back, he really wasn't satting....his hands were ice cold and looking pale.

As we left his room and had him settled again the nurse looked at me and nodded. "Thank god your an EMT." She said. I looked at her, confused. "You saved his life, Dani. You may not consider it a save, but it is." I smiled and nodded. "Good work." She said, patting my back.

About an hour later I was taking an early blood glucose, figuring why not take it early, the patient slept all night and was doing well all night, little to no pain, no worries, not even a need for a potty break. As I took it she was talking to me, smiling, laughing at my lame jokes and talking about going home. I looked at the beeping glucometer and sighed. 'RRLO.'

I grabbed an orange juice and gave it to her, then reset my glucometer for a retest. After five minutes I took it again, 'RRLO.' This time I gave her a cranberry juice and reset the glucometer again. Grabbing her chart I remembered she had high blood sugars before she went to bed and I felt bad, she wanted to go home so bad and this may compromise this. I took a third blood sugar. 'RRLO.' I ran to the nurse and notified her of this and made the patient breakfast, complete with MORE sugar and fruit. She ate it and the nurse spoke with her. I gave it ten more minutes and tested a fourth time. '166.' I sighed a breath of relief and as I charted it the relief aide walked in, smiling from a well-rested night. I laughed at this and smiled at the nurse as she walked past.

"Dani made two saves tonight on her own. We need to just have her as an EMT and not a CNA, get her a pay raise and better benefits so that we can get more done, she's done really well tonight."

"She's rocked this shift." The other nurse said as she glanced up from her chart. I smiled.
2 Panic attacks, 2 Saves.

Glued to Glucose

It seems like everytime I work its all about me and my glucometer.

This time the patient, who wasn't diabetic but was a transplant patient looked odd. When I entered his room to do routine vitals for new admits and he was sleeping, bundled under about 5-6 blankets. I heard him, and realized something quickly, something I will never forget. There's a difference between snoring (sleeping) and snoring (respirations). His was the second. I quickly left the room and for whatever reason grabbed my glucometer. The nurse stopped me and asked me what I was doing, and I informed her that I felt it needed to be done. She nodded and then grumbled about me as she walked away.

I tried to wake him, and he woke suddenly, but went immediately back to sleep. I took the finger prick and had to milk the blood out, but got the reading. The glucometer beeped frantically and his wife, a nurse came running to see what the reading was. I felt my stomach drop and quickly locked the glucometer and ran to the galley.

I grabbed two apple juices and a grape juice, then notified the nurse that the reading was below what the glucometer would read. The patient downed both apple juices and laid back in bed, falling asleep again. I opened the window to let in some light and turned on the televsion, then returned five minutes later to get a new reading; 52.

Handing him the grape juice I again notified the nurse, who then looked to me with worried eyes. "Looks like we're gonna give him the D-50." She said. "Page his doctor." I nodded and did so, then returned to his room for a third blood sugar; 70.

"You must be good with diabetics." The wife said to me as we stepped into the hallway. I sighed and placed my glucometer on the shelf and wrote down the readings, nodding my head.

"Seems like they are everywhere." I said, looking up to her, relieved that he at least had a reading. "Has this ever happened before?"

The wife shook her head. "No, he was just nauseated and vomiting all day." Stopping, I looked to her, watching her carefully.

"And the ER didn't check it?" She shook her head no and I sighed. A problem and an admit could have been prevented. A note to self was made and I charted his glucose levels, and strict monitoring from me all night.

I swear, I am glued to the glucose cases lately.

It's About People

Luckily I had the weekend off and got to enjoy it and all of the festivities with my family. My fiance and I made it to a total of two parades (both of which he marched in), visited a pool party, and a BBQ, as well as our tiny fireworks display. It turned out to be a fun night and I was so glad I didn't have to work. Since then, I've been worried about life, about what I'm doing.

He's gonna be a cop. He is gonna work long shifts, but not nearly as long as Paramedics. He will be able to go to work and come home to a family. How will I be able to actually raise my kids? I don't want to rely on daycare systems, and I know family won't be available when I have to work 24's. Maybe I'm thinking too far into the future, then again, its still a worry heavy on my mind.

We had an aide float from another floor to help our unit last night. She was very pregnant, and she showed it with her cute walk that came with it. She tried her damndest to get the job done, and did it well. I watched her with awe, she had to be nearly ready to burst, but if you're gonna go into early labor, why not at a hospital?

"Why do you keep doing it?" I asked her as she walked into the breakroom.

"Do what?" She replied.

"Do this job, your gonna have a baby. Why not switch careers?" I asked, and she smiled.

"Because I love taking care of people." She said, then sat down next to me. "Everything we do is about people, and people are what matters." I nodded and looked at my cup, soaking in everything she was saying. "Like our Intern Nurse, we had a young CF patient who missed her prom, so he created her room to be a prom and came to work in a tux just to dance with her at her own prom." I smiled as I remembered this, it was my first week on the job and I kept smiling, thinking about how happy it made our patient.

Maybe I'll drown my worries in my job tonight and focus on what really matters, people. Eventually I will have to figure it out, but until then, I'll just keep going.

Learning from my MLS Team

At first, I was incredibly sad that I didn't get to work this weekend, I generally love my job, however this evening was so much fun, that I didn't miss it. HECK I didn't even sit and envy the medics who were there working!

I went to a MLS soccer game!

This was a suprise, compliments of my dad. The whole family came and we all had apparel and gear to match it. We didn't sit together, but we sat close and it was alot of fun!

Let me just take a moment to whine about some of these athletes. When you lay on the field, waste game time and grab your knees, ankles, shins and chest, yelling in pain, you better at least LIMP off the field, instead of running like nothing is wrong.

Anyhow, it was alot of fun and definitley worth missing work for. Plus I got a snazzy jersey to go with it. Every now and then we need a break from the same old same old, and I actually learned something from it.

The last few days have been crazy, have been hectic and have been incredibly hard, emotionally, physically and mentally. This helped me come to the realization that we need more than just medicine, because if its our job, and if its our life, we cannot escape it, we need something more to get us from hard time to time. We actually do get to be like normal employees, who clock out and have other hobbies, and its about time that I build on mine while I have the time to.

I love it when I learn something new, it really makes me realize how quickly life goes and how fast we all grow up. Even my brother was spouting off lifes ponderings, and making me seem like the stupid one, and he's two years younger!

We opened the envelope and....

I watched him as he walked slowly to the mailbox, both of us having a gut feeling it wouldn't be there again. I felt my stomach drop as he dug through the mail and then held one envelope alone in a seperate hand. From what we had heard the results come in two ways; if you pass its a large envelope, if its a fail its a small envelope. He was holding a small one.

He jumped into the car and his hands shook as he started to open the letter and I immediately realized that it was the test results. I watched him, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my body, hearing my heart beating in my ears, all I could focus on was what happened when he opened the letter. He paused and looked at me.

"This is it." He said, then took a deep breath. We both knew that either way, one of us would win, but I really wanted him to get in. I wanted him to get his career started, but I also wanted to go to Paramedic school.

He opened the letter and let out a yell, then leaned in and kissed me. I pulled away and grabbed at the papers, looking to see the result. There is was in big bold black letters; PASS. I yelled in excitement and we kissed again, both feeling so excited. The results came, and they were good results to boot!

Some people would consider this a loss on my part, but its the farthest thing from it. I love my job, and this is what he wanted, so while he's studying up on laws, practicing traffic stops and attending classes I can put my focus on other things for a little bit (like a wedding and work!). Depending on the waiting list I may go to a 2 Month EMT-I class, but thats all in the future, and thats all after the paperwork is submitted. But now we know, and now we know what lies ahead...at least for a little bit!