Leaving 6

Well, Wednesday night-Thursday morning was my last shift I had at 6 Mott. It was a nice, relaxing shift. I had a good assignment, sweet patients and caring parents. One of my patients was having some complications with a kidney transplant he was actively rejecting and because of this (well, at least I think because of this...) he was in a lot of pain. I was trying to comfort him the best I could and his mom said "You're Good." I assumed she was talking to her brave little 7 year old boy. I agreed with her and said "Yes he is,". She said, "No, you... you're a good nurse. Thank You." It was a bittersweet moment. I was happy and proud to have helped this little boy and in turn pleased his worried mother. But at the same time I was sad... when is the next time I will have a patient like him? When will I get to truly be a patient advocate again?
Another patient I had was a spinal fusion, but only 2. Usually kids with that surgery are 10+. I went in his room to give him pain medicine and he was crying because his dad went to the bathroom and he was alone. So I sat next to his bed and rubbed his forehead and hair and he fell asleep almost immediately. When is the next time I will be able to comfort a scared baby like that? I mean, the things I am talking about aren't big deals in nursing, they happen often. Well yes they are big deals, it is important to do them, but it can be a regular occurrence. But the fact that I am walking into a new job full of everything unknown on Monday, and probably not get the chance to do those things anymore, scares and kind of upsets me. Will I have the chance to participate in/embrace those aspects of nursing? Those things to me are the essence of nursing, nursing at it's most basic and necessary, the human aspect.
Even though I rarely talk about it, I consider myself to be extremely lucky because for the last 3 1/2 years my job gives me the opportunity to truly help people. It is a wonderful feeling to be able to comfort a child in pain. It is so fulfilling to have an infant patient who has no parents with them(it happens often) and have a night time feeding. Holding that little baby and rocking him/her back to sleep is so comforting. In those moments, everything is OK for us both. They are safe, I am relaxed, we're both happy. Now the reason I like that so much might be because I want a baby so damn bad. Not sure. I get paid to do what feels right and what interests and amazes me at the same time. How lucky is that?! I truly LOVED my job. If I could have had the same schedule as Aaron and stay there, maybe I would have never left. But I had to do what was right for my marriage and the continued growth of my career.
Well one thing did happen to remind me that sometimes not being on 6 can be a good thing. There was a patient there with epidermolysis bullosa and she had the worst case I have ever seen, even in books. This poor kid was basically there to die. I watched her for a minute while her nurse went to the bathroom and I just about shit my pants. They said she looked bad, but I guess just words didn't prepare me for what I saw. My Good God. She looked dead. But not normal dead, like if you or I died at this moment. No, like scary movie, special effects dead. Her disease process had overtaken her body so badly that there was no normal skin on her. The only way I could tell she was still alive was my watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed. It hurt to look at this poor kid.
Kids like this, paralyzed kids with trachs and vents, and child abuse cases are the 3 main things that really piss me off. Why does this have to happen? Why does God allow this? I understand people have to die, but why in the hell does anyone have to suffer like that? Ugh. But at least not working there anymore means I will not see stuff like that, well at least not as often.
In the morning when I was leaving I was holding back tears the best I could. It was so hard to leave everyone I have worked with for the last 3 1/2 years. Some of those people have been there from the beginning for me and helped me learn and grow as a nurse. They are more than just my co-workers, they are my friends too. I will miss them so much! I felt very loved too, we had a potluck for my last shift AND we went out last night to celebrate. It was a very fun night out. A lot of drinks and laughs were had by all. Maybe they like me as much as I like them. :)
OK I think I am done having my pity party. Leaving my first nursing job ever was a momentous occasion for me, I suppose. But now it is over and done and I have to dry my eyes, put my big girl panties on and get on with it.

PS- my manager said that if I change my mind I always am welcome back on 6. That is incredibly good to know. Like training wheels for my new job! :)

The bad part of being a nurse.

There's a little girl, about 3 or 4 years old, who has been coming to my floor of the hospital since she was probably around one or so. She has a chronic condition is basically fatal in infancy or early childhood. She is a very sweet, smart, funny girl who loved to dance and take walks through the halls. She has two parents that love her to peices, they are very proud and doting parents.
One of the nurse's aides ran into the Dad this morning on her way to work and told her that their little girl is in the ICU and probably will not make it through the day. That was surprising news to all of us, we didn't even think she was sick, she wasn't in to see us at all.
Well, I made the decision to go see her after work this morning before I went home. I decided I was going to because another patient who was always with us died on the 8th, and I didn't see him before he died and I regret it. It was my last day of work before a mini-vacation and I was in a hurry to get out of there, so I thought I would just see him when I came back to work a week later. He was in the PICU for a kidney and liver transplant, so I was hoping/expecting to see him when he pulled through and was on our floor again. After all, he always pulls through. Even though he was on ECMO, I assumed "oh, he will come out of it". Well unfortunately the next time I had a chance to "visit" him was at his viewing on the 15th.
Anyway, I visited the little girl on my way home and it was HORRIBLE. I forgot how bad it is to see kids in the PICU like that. I worked in a PICU at Children's in Detroit so I know what it's like, but since I don't work on that intensive of a floor anymore I guess I just don't think about it that much. I was only there for a couple minutes, long enough to give them my number (in case they need anything since they live close) and to stand there and awkwardly look for the right thing to say, while in my head paying my respects. I am not a cryer at work, but it took absolutely everything I had to not cry until I was out of the room. As soon as I was down the hall and out of sight I pretty much cried like a little bitch. It's not cool to see that. As I am sure you can imagine.
On my way to my car I couldn't get out quick enough. You know the scene of Grey's Anatomy when Christina gets stood up at her wedding, or the scene in the SATC movie when Carrie gets stood up at her wedding, and they want their dresses off immediately like it's burning their skin? Well that's kinda like how I felt when I was trying to get out of the hospital. The elevator couldn't come quickly enough. I hated feeling like the crying people I see often in the halls at work. I would rather be the nurse, when it's sad but doesn't penetrate into more than the poker face "work me". I hated that the parents of other sick children saw me crying. I am not sure why. I just re-read those last three sentences and wonder what a psychologist would say if I told him/her that... Hmmm... Food for thought...
I also felt mad at God. I do NOT like to feel like that. Even though I don't really go to Church I feel like God has a strong presence in my life, even if I don't talk about it. It's a me-Him thing I suppose. But come on? What God lets that little girl suffer? What God would allow those parents to go through the misery of watching their child be sick and then die? All I could think of was that it was complete bullshit and I was angry. I can't even begin to comprehend the anger and pain her parents must feel. They have to watch her die and then have her funeral, and then go home after it's all done and see their house, with her bedroom and everything she owned. Shoes at the front door, probably toys in the living room... ugh. I am pretty sure that if I had a child die I wouldn't be able to handle it and I would end up being an alcoholic or addicted to drugs. I have panic attacks over my dogs' health problems, if my child died... no. I would be done. So would Aaron.
I have since calmed down and am not angry at God anymore. There must be a reason, even if we don't understand it. All I know is I hope it's a good reason.
I hate blogging about stuff like this because when people read it they probably feel obligated to comment on it. I feel so much better to get this stuff off my chest though. I am not sure why writing it helps, but I am glad it does. Maybe I can get her out of my mind for more than 5 minutes when I am awake now. Here's hoping.
Something kind of interesting... I looked up her condition and there are 60 known cases of it. I have taken care of 2 children with it. Wow.
Next post will be something happy!