Hours after taking my exam on GI issues, highlighting diseases such as diabetes and pancreatitis, my dog, my wonderful, amazing dog of 12 years died in my arms, succumbing to complications from diabetes and pancreatitis. My heart is utterly, completely, totally broken. Presently, I could care less about school, nursing, or anything else, really. I'm broken. I can't stop crying.
But life goes on, doesn't it? Just because your world stops spinning, doesn't mean that anyone else's does. I've purposefully kept myself insanely busy this past week, volunteering in my friend's EMT class, going on a ride-along with my police officer friend, staying up as late as possible,
It was a crap week. I cried almost all day in class on Tuesday, and left early because if I didn't leave just then I may very well have imploded.
I didn't care that I did well on my exams; my second exam this week was a day after Cadie died, and all I could think was "This is the first exam I've taken without Cadie." It's the memories that kill me.
Clinicals were a comfort, though. I had a patient who needed extra care, and in a sense, I was able to pour out extra love on her, a patient who desperately needed it. I learned, once more, what nursing really means; it's stepping away from the "medical" side of things and recognizing before you is someone who is hurting, someone who has been defined for years by their diagnosis, and they've lost sight of who they really are.
I signed up for my final semester, and a part of me was in awe, while the other just couldn't summon up enough anything to care. So what that I'll graduate soon. So. What.
Returning to town yesterday, I buried my dog. She's in the front yard of my parent's house now, and I hate it so much. I hate that she died, I hate that she suffered, I hate that I feel this way, struggling to breathe, to function, to live. Making sure I eat one meal a day is a struggle enough on its own. I've (temporarily, I hope) lost the will to live. Perhaps that sounds overly dramatic, but I've known all along that once Cadie goes, a part of me goes, too.
I attended church last night and saw the dreaded boy I had dated this summer. He hates me something fierce and made it overtly obvious as I went to approach his (assumed) new girlfriend (an acquaintance of mine) to say hello. He not only purposely turned to walk away from me, he made sure to angle his back just enough away from mine in a dreaded effort to come off as casual and easy breezy. I noticed two things, 1) he's almost always wearing the same shirt 2) he has man boobs. So there.
It's not all about me, but it most certainly feels gut wrenching and world ending right now.
I waited all semester for this damn break, and now that it's here, I hate it and wish it would end.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Semester Three, Week Twelve
Another week, come and gone.
There were no exams, thankfully, but the additional hours of lecture were indeed excruciating. I only have about ten million slides to go over for Monday's exam, all on GI and endocrine related material.
My dog is sick again; presumed pancreatitis. She's worse off this time around than she was last time, and I find myself in a healthy state of denial, pretending like she'll pull through this again, even though she's presently lying at my feet and too weak to ambulate well.
I cared for a dying patient during clinicals this week. Their diagnosis was self-inflicted, and I recognized, how far too easy it is to judge. As I cared for him, I saw that this was a broken man, someone who took their addiction too far, but I also saw someone who is genuinely making an effort just to live. His family member also stated as such, and said she wants him to keep on going. His requests were minimal; to shower, to have lotion and chap stick, to have a breathing treatment for his wheezing and dyspnea when lying supine.
Nursing care requires love. It requires impartiality. It requires an open heart, and when judgement attempts to seep in, it is reminding yourself that at the core, there is a problem. A heart problem, a soul problem. As a nurse in training, I am so honored to be just a temporary part of my patient's lives, and (hopefully) showing them the non-judgmental love of Christ.
I once more was reminded of that yesterday, when rounding with the wound care nurse. A young patient, defined as an IV drug abuser with a raging infection, but I saw someone who is so lost, their cause (almost) hopeless. Their gaping wound as a result of drug abuse and infection was no match for the ache, the heart pain of a young addict who had a perfectly functioning body and was riddled with disease, once more due to addiction. As the tears poured down their cheeks, I wanted so badly to hug them; but was reminded of the need to remain professional, showing neither sympathy or judgement; just the facts, Jack. But there is no way on the planet that I will ever be able to remain that impartial, and so I silently prayed for the patient. I love secretly praying for people.
Another patient was recovering from their ostomy surgery. The wife was learning how to change the ostomy dressing and bag, and I commended both the patient and his wife on their willingness to learn, taking this life change in such stride. The wife shrugged, stating "What else can you do?"and I nearly had one of those blasted break down moments, wondering who would care for me if I was sick, if I needed an ostomy, or had a life changing event. Yeah, yeah, that's what your parents and sisters are for I hear you saying. But nothing [yet] has erased that deep void in my hear to have someone by my side in sickness and in health.
Sometimes it feels like I give so much of myself but receive so little in return. And this isn't about pity, or wanting recognition. Nursing life is hard work. It requires selflessness, but sometimes I wonder if I'm getting too prideful, as I recognize how "selfless" I am, yet still wish for more.
There were no exams, thankfully, but the additional hours of lecture were indeed excruciating. I only have about ten million slides to go over for Monday's exam, all on GI and endocrine related material.
My dog is sick again; presumed pancreatitis. She's worse off this time around than she was last time, and I find myself in a healthy state of denial, pretending like she'll pull through this again, even though she's presently lying at my feet and too weak to ambulate well.
I cared for a dying patient during clinicals this week. Their diagnosis was self-inflicted, and I recognized, how far too easy it is to judge. As I cared for him, I saw that this was a broken man, someone who took their addiction too far, but I also saw someone who is genuinely making an effort just to live. His family member also stated as such, and said she wants him to keep on going. His requests were minimal; to shower, to have lotion and chap stick, to have a breathing treatment for his wheezing and dyspnea when lying supine.
Nursing care requires love. It requires impartiality. It requires an open heart, and when judgement attempts to seep in, it is reminding yourself that at the core, there is a problem. A heart problem, a soul problem. As a nurse in training, I am so honored to be just a temporary part of my patient's lives, and (hopefully) showing them the non-judgmental love of Christ.
I once more was reminded of that yesterday, when rounding with the wound care nurse. A young patient, defined as an IV drug abuser with a raging infection, but I saw someone who is so lost, their cause (almost) hopeless. Their gaping wound as a result of drug abuse and infection was no match for the ache, the heart pain of a young addict who had a perfectly functioning body and was riddled with disease, once more due to addiction. As the tears poured down their cheeks, I wanted so badly to hug them; but was reminded of the need to remain professional, showing neither sympathy or judgement; just the facts, Jack. But there is no way on the planet that I will ever be able to remain that impartial, and so I silently prayed for the patient. I love secretly praying for people.
Another patient was recovering from their ostomy surgery. The wife was learning how to change the ostomy dressing and bag, and I commended both the patient and his wife on their willingness to learn, taking this life change in such stride. The wife shrugged, stating "What else can you do?"and I nearly had one of those blasted break down moments, wondering who would care for me if I was sick, if I needed an ostomy, or had a life changing event. Yeah, yeah, that's what your parents and sisters are for I hear you saying. But nothing [yet] has erased that deep void in my hear to have someone by my side in sickness and in health.
Sometimes it feels like I give so much of myself but receive so little in return. And this isn't about pity, or wanting recognition. Nursing life is hard work. It requires selflessness, but sometimes I wonder if I'm getting too prideful, as I recognize how "selfless" I am, yet still wish for more.
Saturday, November 7, 2015
Semester Three, Week Eleven
Oh, that rumor mill.
So, remember when I inadvertently walked in on my instructors "discussing" (to put it politely) my class last week? Well. I made the error of telling two (2) people.
When I walked into my classroom Monday morning, people were talking about the event as if they had actually been there. Also, the story had been changed that our instructors hate our class and say we're stupid.
This exploded into threats of talking to the dean, people actually going to the assistant program director, demands for action via facebook, and a general poor attitude. The instructors are acting differently around me. At least, I perceive that as such.
My stupid mouth...
I thought my vision was slowly fading recently. Being concerned, I scheduled an appointment with an eye doctor. He told me my eyes are overly strained from all the dang studying I've been doing, and need "computer" glasses. (Whatever those are.)
My cardiac exam on Monday went exceedingly well; with extra credit, I received a 92%. Thank you, God.
I had a patient ask me if I was married. I replied "No" but that I pray for a spouse. She told me to pray to the Virgin Mary, and I wanted to cry, not because of any affiliation with the Catholic belief system, but because I have prayed, so much and so often for a spouse, and it yields no returns.
Visited the cath lab on Friday; it was really neat, even if I had no idea what I was looking at most of the time. I saw a stent placed, and watched as the right coronary artery went from being 95% occluded to wide open, thanks to a well-placed stent. Cardiologists and interventionalists are amazing. They make this process of stent placing look so easy, when most assuredly, it is not.
Now back in the day, when I was a newbie to medicine, I participated in a voluntary internship to gain some medical experience. I recalled visiting a cath lab all those years ago, and thankfully, I blogged about it. Re-visiting who I was once is pretty comical. Take a peek here.
I was naive in the ways of the world, and I sometimes wonder if I'll look back on this blog and chuckle at my naive self, again. Perspective.
I feel, sometimes, like the more I know, the less I understand. I also feel that nursing school is the best of times and worst of times. It's complex, really. One minute, I'm flying, the next I'm doubting my self-abilities. But I'm working my butt off for this. It's rewarding, challenging, joyful, and stressful. And it's worth it.
Five more weeks. Four, if you exclude the Thanksgiving break. I hope, I pray I complete this semester successfully. It most certainly is the most difficult of them all, to date. So much busy-work on any given week, that you can't really catch up. I wrote a three page paper on nothing. It was defining PICOT. Any paper that requires one to define an acronym is just about pointless. But I digress.
Five (four) more weeks.
So, remember when I inadvertently walked in on my instructors "discussing" (to put it politely) my class last week? Well. I made the error of telling two (2) people.
When I walked into my classroom Monday morning, people were talking about the event as if they had actually been there. Also, the story had been changed that our instructors hate our class and say we're stupid.
This exploded into threats of talking to the dean, people actually going to the assistant program director, demands for action via facebook, and a general poor attitude. The instructors are acting differently around me. At least, I perceive that as such.
My stupid mouth...
I thought my vision was slowly fading recently. Being concerned, I scheduled an appointment with an eye doctor. He told me my eyes are overly strained from all the dang studying I've been doing, and need "computer" glasses. (Whatever those are.)
My cardiac exam on Monday went exceedingly well; with extra credit, I received a 92%. Thank you, God.
I had a patient ask me if I was married. I replied "No" but that I pray for a spouse. She told me to pray to the Virgin Mary, and I wanted to cry, not because of any affiliation with the Catholic belief system, but because I have prayed, so much and so often for a spouse, and it yields no returns.
Visited the cath lab on Friday; it was really neat, even if I had no idea what I was looking at most of the time. I saw a stent placed, and watched as the right coronary artery went from being 95% occluded to wide open, thanks to a well-placed stent. Cardiologists and interventionalists are amazing. They make this process of stent placing look so easy, when most assuredly, it is not.
Now back in the day, when I was a newbie to medicine, I participated in a voluntary internship to gain some medical experience. I recalled visiting a cath lab all those years ago, and thankfully, I blogged about it. Re-visiting who I was once is pretty comical. Take a peek here.
I was naive in the ways of the world, and I sometimes wonder if I'll look back on this blog and chuckle at my naive self, again. Perspective.
I feel, sometimes, like the more I know, the less I understand. I also feel that nursing school is the best of times and worst of times. It's complex, really. One minute, I'm flying, the next I'm doubting my self-abilities. But I'm working my butt off for this. It's rewarding, challenging, joyful, and stressful. And it's worth it.
Five more weeks. Four, if you exclude the Thanksgiving break. I hope, I pray I complete this semester successfully. It most certainly is the most difficult of them all, to date. So much busy-work on any given week, that you can't really catch up. I wrote a three page paper on nothing. It was defining PICOT. Any paper that requires one to define an acronym is just about pointless. But I digress.
Five (four) more weeks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)