Raleigh FINALE!

I will start by apologizing about how long this post is going to be. I have entirely too much to say...

Kayla came home friday night and we tie dyed (in the dark) in the front yard. My dress is pretty stinkin cute if I do say so myself. I found EXACTLY what I was looking for at Burlington Coat Factory for only $4.99. How awesome is that? Here is a picture. My fingers were stained blue afterward, but luckily we wash our hands every .2 seconds at the hospital so it came off pretty quickly. However, I did have a blue-green thumb all day Saturday because I had a cut that I covered with tega-derm (basically a clear tape that is meant for small abrasions and/or protecting IV's. Kayla sent me a picture of my dress while I was at work on Saturday and I was so stoked! I feel like it looks like a picture of scenery... blue sky with clouds and green grass. I love it.

Before my saturday shift started I had some quiet-Jesus time and made sure I refocused my heart on serving and loving well, whatever that looked like. No bitter Sarah, anxious to get home. I wanted to be fully present in everything. Good thing I did, I had some CRAZY patients all weekend. And when I say crazy, I mean CRAZY!!!

Patient #1: Older Native American patient. About 6'3" and over 200 lbs. Long hair, wild eyes, dark skin, and staples across the front of his scalp. This may not be politically correct, but he literally looked like he had been scalped by another tribe and then had come to the hospital to get stapled back up. Poor guy. Apparently he is normally very sweet, but the surgery on his frontal lobe made him crazy. When you asked him where he was he would say he was at the hospital, but then follow it by saying he only said that because that is what we were telling him and really he was at his home and this was a conspiracy. He kept claiming there were bugs crawling on the floor and in his bed, and that water was seeping in through the ceiling. He told the NA working the night shift that the male African American nurse had raped her and that she wasn't allowed out of the room until he got his knife. Scary! When I was in there with him I asked about his heritage to start conversation and he was happy to talk about it. He even made a joke saying "I don't live in no wigwams!" and talking about milking cows when I squeezed his finger to get his blood sugar level. A few hours later he yelled and pointed his finger at me saying that I had eyes & he had eyes and that he didn't go around asking people what color they were. It was weird. Later when I was taking his temperature he kept opening his mouth as if playing a game and I told him to "stop. Close your mouth." I had been nice about it the past times, but I was trying to be direct and firm. He got mad, took the thermometer out of his mouth, and began yelling at me again. I told him he could hold the thermometer if he wanted, and he did, but continued to "teach me a lesson." My nurse heard him yelling at me and came into the room. His family was nice to me and assured me I hadn't done anything wrong or offensive. Shew! At one point during the day he got up out of his room, walked into the nursing medicine room, and sat on a chair, butt naked. Kinda gross.

Patient #2: Mid-aged dead head. Grateful dead bears tattoo on his shoulder, admitted for an infected toe. He was constantly asking for pain meds, he pulled out his IV 3 times in one day, and messed up his foot bandage 3 times so that we had to change it. I think in some sick way he enjoyed getting stuck with a needle. I watched him during the last insertion and he had his eyes closed and relaxed as if he were getting a manicure. Weird. At one time I came into his room and he was moving the tubing on his IV and said "ha. Look, I can be a doctor." It took all I had not to say something coy back. I think he was on too much dilaudid (a pain med) because he speech was slurred. At different points in the day he lost his phone (it was in his room), asked where his dog was, wanted security to bring back his wallet from the safe because he was "leaving in a few days and it would take a long time to get it back," but "not to worry" because he "wasn't going to run away or anything." (they had just locked it up that morning), said he had a degree in philosophy, that he used to run 4 miles every morning (he was clearly overweight and after our walk down the hall in which he did ham string curls with me was way out of breath). His two craziest moments were when he left his room and started knocking on the door that said "storage" and said that his friends were in there. I was like "whatttt??" and he said that his friends had called him and that they had left some stuff in storage that he needed to get for them. I explained to him that we did not allow people to keep things in that storage room in the hospital. He argued, but finally I was able to convince him that perhaps his friends "mysterious boxes" were in storage at a storage building. At the end of my shift I was documenting on the computer and he came strolling by with his IV pole and a packed suit case. I asked him where he was going and he said he was going to his room. I pointed and showed him where his room was and he freaked out saying I should not point at him like a dog and that I needed to turn around and do my work. The other nurses assured me that I did nothing wrong, and that sometimes people are crazy. Oh and at another point in the day he totally tried going into another patients room to find me. That is not ok!

Patient #3: old black man with dementia. I tried to get him to eat, but he said he was "stuffed" and that we were "making him fat." He was cute crazy. At one point he was mumbling talking and I asked who he was talking to he said "I'm talking to the baby" and started asking me if the kitchen dishes were clean. Poor guy.

I did have good patients that day too. One was an x-Red socks player with ALS. His daughter was a nurse at "Big" Duke Hospital in Durham and is in charge of hiring new graduates. She gave me her name as a contact. Her dad was so sweet, but a bit discouraged. He has been diagnosed with all kinds of things. Sara, my nurse, made me a DANK peanut butter chocolate cake for my final day and gave him a piece. Even though he has diabetes and isn't supposed to eat stuff like that, he had had a rough day and only has a few years left to live. Like I said, his daughter is a nurse and thought it was appropriate. We all agreed. He said it was the best cake he had ever had and told Sara she should quit being a nurse and bake cakes. She said she has thought about it, but that it is her creative outlet and she wouldn't want it to feel like work. I can relate to that! Before this man left I asked him what his advice for a young wipper-snapper like me would be and here is what he said:
-"Enjoy life, it is a gift."
-"Trust your instincts, thats why you've got em."
-"Be kind, honest, and compassionate." He told me that I already was, but that to continue that way, that there were not enough people in the world who cared.
-his sickness has made him "grow in his faith."
-he looked up at the sky and said that he didn't know why this happened to him, why one day he was running and fit and then the rug was pulled out from under him, but that it served a purpose that only the Big guy knows.
-he said not to let pain go to waste, to offer it up for someone's good intentions
-and "an important part of the recipe for life is: HAVE FUN!" "Work is a small part of life, you should enjoy life and your work too, but work is not your entire life."
-He also told me about how he had died on the operating table once, how his heart had stopped beating. He said a priest came to ask him about it and that this what it was: when he died, he was just part of the air. He didn't see his mom or dad or anything, but he was being in the presence of total joy. He was like a dust particle, but not a particle... he was part of the air. He said it wasn't something you could ever imagine if you hadn't experienced it, but that it was the coolest feeling ever and it was beautiful. He said he was not afraid of death, because he knows that it will be joy. He said "maybe Hell is on earth after all?"

Like I said, Sara made me a yummy cake. It was funny because yesterday all the nurses were being very suspicious and asked me what desserts I liked. The first two were "making a dessert tonight" and asked for suggestions. I told them cobbler was always a good summer dessert, and one said "so you like cobbler?" I said yeah, that it was a good thing for summer, but then realizing that they were scheming quickly added that I was a chocolate girl. At the end of Saturday Sara said she was going to a party and needed to make a dessert. She asked for suggestions and a few nurses answered, I decided to test the water and didn't answer. She looked straight at me so I told her anything chocolate was good. And thus, I got a chocolate cake with peanut butter icing and reeses cups on top. My VERY first homemade cake made for me! Sara and I ran into each other that morning on the elevator for the first time all summer and when I asked what she had she said "ohhh nothing." haha. Another nurse made some dip with beef, cheese, and salsa. I felt adventurous and tried some with my baked potato lunch. Pretty tasty. Little did they know, I had something up my sleeves too and had written them a card and bought ColdStone chocolate from BigLots (cheap-o) the night before.

As I left that evening, all the nurses were very sweet and encouraging. They told me if the next generation of nursing was like me that it was "in good hands." They all asked if I was coming back, and I said I didn't know. They told me to keep in touch and NOT to do Med Surg nursing. I think I will listen to that :)

That night I had chat time with Sarah Joyce in my room and we even cuddled a little bit. How cute. I was so ready to go home to Charlotte, but I this summer has been amazing. I feel like I have grown so much. Not only in nursing, but as a person. This is only the tip of my understanding... I know this summer has impacted me in ways that I have yet to foresee.