Saturday, January 30, 2016

Semester Four, Week Two

At the time of this writing, I'm beside myself in grief again, all teared up and snotty faced. It hit me out of the blue in lecture; we were covering shock, MODS, SIRS, and I wondered, did my dog die of shock? Did I kill her? Could I have done anything to save her? And as I wrestled with those thoughts, it only became stronger how much I dearly miss her.

At home, I'm reviewing what we learned, and I'm sobbing as I read about what happens to the GI system when its been subject to decreased tissue perfusion. New tidal waves of grief have knocked me off my feet today, and I cannot muddle through this material without profusely, and embarrassingly weeping aloud.

Days later, I still can't work my way through sepsis without getting teary eyed.

~Sigh~

Clinicals began this week. I'm at a premier facility (I don't actually know what that means, but I like the sound of it.) My clinical instructor is sharp, witty, and I think could be an asset to my budding career.

After ten hours of orientation on Thursday, and two hours on the floor, I then went home and did a few hours of prep-work. Lucky me, my patient had many complex co-morbidities and a billion medications to research.

Walking back to my car, I couldn't quite remember where it was, and so I wandered the streets of Denver, dodging the stumbling drunk man, and praying that I wouldn't be killed. (I wasn't.)

Back at 'em the next day, I was successful in trying my hand at giving medications via a dobhoff feeding tube, and assessing a patient in respiratory distress. Yes indeed, learning is happening here, even though I'm wildly exhausted and have little time to study. My memory is awful these days; I feel as though I'm in a fog. I literally cannot remember what someone told me after a few moments have passed. It's awesome.

My job is an hour and a half away from my clinical site, so every Friday night for the next month, I will further torture myself with an extra long drive after an extra long day, all so I can work for 8.5 hours, and bring in my awesome $~400 a month. #worthit #notreally

My limited time to study is further compounded by the fact that lecture is making almost no sense whatsoever. Literally, I was in lecture on Wednesday and felt like I had been dropped in the wrong class. The respiratory lecture was way over my head, and I haven't even begun that, as I make a desperate attempt to comprehend the material for my upcoming first exam; HIV/AIDS, immune system, autoimmune, transplantation/rejection, wound care/assessment, MODS/SIRS, Sepsis, septic shock, and severe sepsis.

God help me. Literally. I cannot make it through this semester without Him.

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Semester Four, Week One

The first week really wasn't that bad. I mean, I only had class for two days. On the second day of lecture, we were bombarded with three hours of immunology, HIV/AIDS, autoimmune disorders, and hypersensitivity reactions. My instructor said that this should all be review, but I'll be darned if it is. Review from five years ago, maybe...

I'm settling in well to another semester, with only a small/moderate amount of stress as I attempt to manage my ADN and BSN courses.

I'm determined to change some of the un-pleasurable aspects of my life, including, but not limited to, distancing myself from complicated friendships, and not being readily available. To attempt defining insanity, by doing the same thing over, and over, and over, and over...

In addition, I will attempt to venture out more, be even more adventurous, say "yes" more often, and be willing to transition into a side of myself that has yet to be uncovered. Sarah, RN. Won't that be the best day ever, to sign RN on documents...

I don't want to fail. Those thoughts came creeping in, again, as I attempted to understand the components of white blood cells.

Clinicals begin next Thursday. Gonna be a doozy. 120+ hours of fun!

I had another clinical calculations quiz this week, and I'll be darned if that is not the most stressful experience for me. My hands shake out of control, and not only that, they become numb and tingly. I'm sure my pupils are dilated, and my respiration rate beyond the 12-20 norm. It's ridiculous, really, and yet, I suspect, will be my nemesis until the very end here.

I still wish I had become a nurse sooner, lived life a little braver, not held back by my own perceived limitations.

Is it the journey, or the destination?

Monday, January 18, 2016

Semester Four: A new beginning

How?

How has time simultaneously flown and stopped over the course of the last year and a half? How is it possible that I am entering into my last semester, 108 days away from my pinning ceremony?

It doesn't seem possible, and yet, as I am one day away from beginning the last semester, I recognize my personal growth, that my thought process has been adjusted, and when I see a patient situation, while it is still a work in progress, I'm beginning to think like a nurse.

I had a patient tell me that he's been using an inhaled medication for his COPD, and recently has begun to notice a burning sensation on his tongue and down his throat. I immediately flashed back to pharmacology, and recalled that said medications can cause thrush, a fungal infection. Passing this information on to his nurse, the doctor evaluated and prescribed nystatin to treat. A victory.

Or, a patient is in respiratory distress. I suggested to the relatively new RN to re-position, leaning forward, in an effort to expand her poorly functioning lungs. He took my recommendation (!!!) and it provided some relief.

The point is, I feel like I'm thinking like a nurse, and not having as many "deer in the headlight" moments as I used to. Will I still have said moments? Yes, of course. But my goal is to progress beyond them, and endeavor to make accurate interventions for the safety and well-being of my patients.

I've been researching nurse residency programs. I am so hopeful that I will get into a program post graduation and ease into my new role.

Of course, I'm still a long way off from graduation, and those old "failure" fears are creeping in, but I'm hopeful. I'm excited, and nervous, optimistic, and ready to take on the insanity, again, for the sake of becoming, accomplishing, and entering into the world of a registered nurse.