New Look Tattoo

From roaring lions to Hebrew wedding vows, I find permanent masterpieces painted upon many of my friends. Nearly half of the individuals I know have some sort of tattoo, so it is no surprise that I have thought about getting one myself. I know I would enjoy this form of self-expression, but I am almost certain the novelty would wear off and I would be ready for its removal. I have heard rumors of “temporary” ink, and have questioned the ease to which a permanent tattoo could be removed. As I researched my options, I found “New Look Laser Tattoo Removal” in Texas at http://www.newlookhouston.com/TattooRemoval.html. Interestingly enough, the Director of Clinic Practice is a Nurse Practitioner, a profession I have considered pursuing after I complete my Bachelors degree in Nursing. As I read the New Look Tattoo website, I found that laser tattoo removal is no quick fix, but rather a three-to-ten session commitment. While the office is successful at removing ink, they encourage individuals to carefully consider the long-term implications before getting a tattoo. Knowing this, I think I will continue to "opt out" of tattooing and instead enjoy the display on other people’s canvasses. Check it out!

Highlights!

Last night I was bummed about working today, a Sunday, but it has been one of my BEST days so far... Here are the highlights.

1. This morning I woke up with so much joy in my heart that I put on a worship song and danced around the house in my pjs. At 5:30 I danced with more energy and zeal than I have after a shot of espresso.
2. I made a TURKEY sandwich for lunch with delicious fresh tomatoes.
3. On the way to work I blasted wonderful tunes from a CD a new friend gave me last night.
4. My nurse preceptor and I got along wonderfully..
5. My patient made me laugh when we pushed some fluid through his IV and he said "that feels good. I love the feeling of the cold going through my vein." Drug addict?
6. This same patient had a country-talking, overall wearin', friend come visit. When he took the patient out for lunch, my nurse asked kindly, "you aren't going to smoke are you?" The friend replied, "I won't give him no cigarettes, but I may give him some of this." Chuckling, he pulled out a bag of what appeared to be weed. As he left he said, "I bet you ain't never seen that from a 68 year old, huh."
7. One of the patients brought us Panera coffee cake. YUMMM.
8. I came home and ran, sweat, and de-cluttered my mind.
9. When I made dinner there were NO ants in sight. Hallelujah!
10. After giving bed baths, I have a new appreciation for the shower I am about to take.

How He loves us

Today I had dinner with a new friend from Raleigh, and she was sharing about her life and specific hurt. As we talked, she asked me, "Have you heard the song "How He Loves"? I smiled and said I had, keeping to myself that I am good friends with the girl whose brother the song was inspired by (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NXWE6AC8ao). She continued her story, telling me how through all of this hurt and suffering in her life right now, she is closer to God than she has ever been before. That she is learning that God loves her in a deep personal way and that His heart breaks with every tear she cries. She continued on to say how the line "loves like hurricane, I am tree bending beneath the weight of His win and mercy" spoke to her during a specific low time. It was during this moment that she was driving through, you guessed it, a hurricane whose winds made the tips of trees kiss the ground. The song opened up a new door to receiving the infinite love the Lord had for her. As she told the story with joy on her lips and tears in her eyes, I couldn't help but get choked up as chills covered my body. I thought of the suffering endured by families and friends of the song-inspired man, and how out of that brokenness was birthed a song that has transformed the souls of many. That through death, a song offers hope. Wow.

Scabies

Yesterday on the unit was an interesting day... When I arrived, I found out that I would be shadowing a Wound Nurse at 9 am and the PICC team at 1 pm. Since I arrived at 6:45 am, I decided to ask the nurses and nurse aides if there was anything I could do to help pass the time in between. One nurse assistant asked me to take 4 of her patients' morning vital signs. I happily agreed and went on my way. As I got to my last patient, a 40+/- year old big man with a long grey pony tail, I began taking vital signs while a respiratory nurse explained a breathing treatment to him (he has breathing difficulties and was a chronic smoker.) I had forgotten to write down the results on the clip board in the patient's room, so I walked back in after the nurses had left. While I was in there charting, the patient started coughing, fell back onto his bed, turned bright red, and was shaking. I rushed over to him and asked if he was ok, only to have no response. I wasn't sure what to do so I ran down the hall calling out "I need help." One nurse asked if I needed the "Rapid Response Team" but I told her I wasn't sure. The respiratory nurse came back to the room with me only to find the patient sitting upright saying with twang, "I must've passed out." The respiratory nurse said to me, "he's fine." I was so embarrassed. I don't want a reputation as being the little student who cries wolf. After some reflection I realized that I should not worry what others thought, for I acted as I should have. If there had been something very wrong with the patient, every second would have counted. I talked to my supervisor later that afternoon and she told me I did the right thing which lead to good conversation about different hospital protocol.

I then followed around the Wound Nurse. We saw a lot of pressure ulcers and diabetic feet. It was interesting, and I like the fact that wound healing is measurable. It's not a game of "let's try this and see how you feel." Instead you can try a method and actually see if the wound is getting smaller. When I came back to the floor to take my lunch break, I was informed that the patient who pretended to die on me was now on contact precautions because he had scabies. Everyone who had touched him or been in his room now how to give their information to Employee Health for follow up. Apparently the doctor had known all along that the patient had scabies but failed to pass it along to the rest of us. NOT cool. I was concerned and washed my hands and arms well. One nursing assistant started telling me that scabies could cover your entire body and kill you. That was not a good feeling. I talked to another nurse though, and she said her baby had gotten it from day care and that it wasn't that big of a deal. She said that if I got scabies I would just have to take medicine, wash my clothes and sheets, and not touch anyone. That made me feel a bit better, but I still was not happy.

Then I followed around the PICC nurse. A PICC line is an IV that is inserted and then advanced through increasingly larger veins, toward the heart until the tip rests in the distal superior vena cava or cavoatrial junction, connected to the heart. This is a dangerous procedure, and the team that performs them is specially trained. Unfortunately, no PICCs were ordered on Tuesday, so instead I talked with the nurse about how she is in the process of getting her black belt in Karate. haha. We went for a walk around the hospital together, drank cokes, and had a merry time. Around 4 I went back to the 5th floor and did random tasks such as answering call bells, helping lift patients, and answering the telephone. At 6:45, I went with the nursing assistant to get scrubs from the basement to change into so our "scabies scrubs" would not contaminate our cars.

I knew I should get home to wash my clothes, but I really just needed a moment to reflect, pray, etc, before I continued on. I wanted to go get dinner somewhere and read and had a peace about going, so I did it. Plus I figured if I had caught scabies already, prolonging my shower an extra 30 minutes would not have made much of a difference. While I was eating dinner it occurred to me, "what if I did get scabies even after having a peace about having this time to myself? Would that cause me to question that peace? How would that change my view of God? Would I still trust Him? Would I be mad?" Then I thought even larger... what if I was called to do missions in Africa and then got AIDS while I was helping a child? Would I question God then? Would I be ok with that? As sad as this sounds, I don't think I can honestly say yes. I can't say that I wouldn't be upset. I can't say that my faith would not be shaken. I hate it. It is like I feel entitled to my health. I suppose the first step is recognition and the submission. I know that health, money, and things are fleeting... My life must be built on the Rock that is unfailing.

Nog Jog

Today Sarah Joyce and I had a "date" day. We woke up late (7:15 is late for me), went to the lake to tan, got smoothies, did a little shopping, and then went to "Nog Jog." The place we shopped was called "Sugar Magnolia's." It is a fair trade store where everything costs 15 dollars or less. I got four good quality solid shirts for 29 bucks. Holler! Then we went to Nog Jog. Check it out: http://www.nogrunclub.com/ I ended up running with this random man named Mike because a volunteer paired us together. I told her my pace, and that it was my first time, and she sought Mike out. He was sweet and talked to me a little about Charlotte and his 7 year old daughter. He did not seem that much younger than my dad though. After the run! you could pay $1 to get a pasta dinner, salad, bread, and water. It is a really neat event and I will probably do it again. I left before trivia to go home and prepare for tomorrows big day at work and pack for the weekend. Guess what?! I am coming to Charlotte for the weekend. I can't wait!!! I have a dermatologist appointment, a mentor meeting, and a group triathlon with team CTS. It is going to be great!

1 Peter 4:8-11

As I was on my way out this morning, I noticed an old note that Kayla had written for the other girls during the school year. It said, "check out 1 Peter 4:8-11." I was bummed about having to work on a Sunday and decided I would make it a point to have my own "Church" and read this verse before I started my shift. I listened to a worship cd that Kelly had given me in the car and when I got to the hospital I pulled out my little Bible and sat at a table in the "cafe", which is really a gross cafeteria. The verse read: "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen." What a perfect thing to read! I felt bad for the way I had trash talked that one "gross" patient, and decided to go into work with a heart longing to serve no matter who my patient was.

The day did indeed turn out to be much easier, and a lot of that had to do with the fact that I actually knew what my job was. I was able to manage my time, talk with patients, and change wound dressings all by myself! I joked with the nurse saying that I was good at them because of all my time with horses growing up. In all honesty, I think that is why. Where else would I have learned to pull across the bone and wrap around the tendon? Or to pull off the dead tissue to allow for better healing? The nurse also called me in to the room when she started an IV, passed meds, and did various other nursing tasks. I was able to participate in an IV flush, give some meds, and apply a nicoderm patch. She also gave me career advice in saying that I should get a job in the ICU or another critical care area to start, because it is always easier to move somewhere that requires less experience than it is to move up the totem poll. Makes sense. I do think the verse I read affected my attitude, because when I was making my rounds at the end of the night, all of my patients poured words of endearment and encouragement over me. It was really sweet.

It was so surreal when the night shift came to alleviate us. It was the same people I saw Saturday night and again this morning. I think it hit me that there are two groups of people that stay with the patients around the clock and that I am now a part of that. It also made me realize how long I had been there; 6:30am-7:15pm is a long time. Right now, the nurses are there doing what I did a few hours ago. It's so weird!

Sorry if my spelling or grammar is bad in these things. I am usually tired when I pen them. The sandman is waiting. Goodnight!

Nursing is gross

As I write this post I am exhausted and sitting on the couch in a silent home (Kayla is at camp, Caitlin is at the beach, and Sarah is in Charlotte visiting her older brother). I am enjoying a bowl of frozen yogurt with blueberries except for the fact that I keep finding ants on my arm. I wish I was joking about that the ants, but I am totally not. We have an ant problem in the Ashburton kitchen and silly me left my computer on the counter. Who would have thought the ants would have climbed on my MacBook and then traveled with me to the living room. I guess they were confused about what kind of apple it was. Har har.

Today I worked my first 12 hour shift, solo. I felt bad for my nurse preceptor because I wasn't really sure what my role was and there was a slight learning curve. The one day during orientation that a nurse aid was supposed to "show me the ropes", she ended up just telling me about her boy friend and kid, then I ended up doing odd jobs for the nurses. Today I was basically thrown in with the wolves. I think it was good though because it forced me to learn everything quickly. Not only did I do the basic nurse aid tasks, but my preceptor called me into the rooms whenever she was doing wound care or discontinuing IV's so that I could do them. Did I mention that one of the nurses on the floor called in sick today too? We had extra patients, I had a real job and an unofficial role, AND most of our patients were completely immobile. I was running around like a mad man the whole time. One of the female patients made me feel completely gross. I feel horrible saying this, but she did. She was obese, incontinent, had edema (swelling of the legs that makes them rock hard), sloughing black skin, was dirty, smelly, etc etc etc. The worse part was that it was like she was embracing her state. She called me every 30 minutes to put her on the bed pan, to get her off the bed pan (then she said she couldn't use the bed pan. I asked her why and she acted like I was stupid for asking her that), to give her bath in bed; she asked for cookies, ice cream, for the telephone to be moved closer to her ear, for me to fill out her meal selections for the next day, for me to call the nurse. It was ridiculous. Physical therapy was supposed to work with her to get her out of bed, and when I went in the room after they had left I saw her in an awkward position with one shoe on, with her saying "they just left and they aren't coming back." She thought it was funny. The whole time we tried to help her she would complain and moan or say "oh save me Jesus," but then as if verbally slapping us in the face she would say thank you. At one point the nurse and I were assisting her to use the bathroom on the bed pan. The nurse rolled up the bed linens and when she did, a bunch of dead skin and dirt went flying into my face. It was the most disgusting thing ever. I don't mind packing or cleaning wounds, or even wiping people after they use the bathroom, but this really bothered me. It was purely bad hygiene. I took a shower as soon as I got home.

The rest of my patients were physically difficult, but mentally not. They were as compliant as they could be. There was one old man with a lot of medical problems who couldn't remember much. He started throwing up after dinner and said, "I am done. Look at me, I am falling apart," in the saddest, most sincere voice. His daughter was there and said, "no you aren't daddy, your stomach is just upset after dialysis" (kidney treatment). It was so sad. Another one of my patients was talking about her granddaughter in China and how she had something called a "blog" and asked me what it was. I laughed and told her. He granddaughter is teaching English there.

I think I would like to be an OR nurse. I love the cutting and sewing, and everything is sterile! Maybe I would have a hard time because it is so cold, but I could just layer up. It would be worth it to me, I think. Eh I guess I don't need to figure that out yet either. It is only the first day!

Sleep beckons!