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 30, 2016
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?
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.
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.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Semester Three, Week Sixteen (Aka: Done)
Somehow, I made it.
Amidst all the fears, tears, heartache, and struggle, I've passed third semester, with an A in advanced concepts of medical-surgical nursing, to boot.
One semester left. I graduate in less than five months.
What have I learned this semester?
Amidst all the fears, tears, heartache, and struggle, I've passed third semester, with an A in advanced concepts of medical-surgical nursing, to boot.
One semester left. I graduate in less than five months.
What have I learned this semester?
- God is present.
- Even when it seems impossible, I can persevere, and triumph.
- I can do more than I ever thought possible.
Medically I've seen or done:
- PICC line insertion
- IV insertion
- IV push meds
- Care of paraplegia/tetraplegia
- End of life care
- Cancer care
- Juggling four patients (assessing priority of care)
- Cath lab (stent placement)
- End stage renal failure care
- Care of the patient with heart failure
- Psychiatric care
This semester wore me out. It brought many disappointments, but also many victories. I wish, so much, that my heart was still in tact. While I'm delighted to be done with this semester, a part of me is burdened by other factors in my life, that I've come to realize, can only hide under the surface, but will pop up, always.
I guess I struggle with why this prayer for nursing school was so easily, quickly answered, why I had such clear direction and understanding of what God was asking of me, leading me to do, when all the other aspects of my life are not as clear, and at best, confusing.
What if all I ever have is a nursing career? What if the years of my life to become a wife and mother never come? Will I be the old maid who contributes all that I have to my job, only to come home to no one? This. This is what is on my mind today, December 15th, as snow lays on the ground, storm overhead, at long last on break, but not at rest.
~
I waited a few hours before posting this, and I took some time to think about life. Okay, so I'm not exactly where I wanted to be at this late stage in the game, but I serve a good, good Father, and He knows what's best for me, even if I can't fathom that this is best. He is perfect in ALL of His ways. So, I'll continue resting in His grip, even when I can't see, and I don't know.
I waited a few hours before posting this, and I took some time to think about life. Okay, so I'm not exactly where I wanted to be at this late stage in the game, but I serve a good, good Father, and He knows what's best for me, even if I can't fathom that this is best. He is perfect in ALL of His ways. So, I'll continue resting in His grip, even when I can't see, and I don't know.
We'll talk again in a month or so.
Friday, December 11, 2015
Semester Three, Week Fourteen
Last day of clinicals.
The anticipation was high. I made it. I didn't love it, and it was perhaps my most challenging clinical yet, but I learned I can safely handle four patients, I can do IV push meds (always forbidden before this semester) and my knowledge base really, truly has improved.
It's funny though; on one hand I feel like "I've got this, nursing isn't that bad." On the other I'm like "I am going to kill someone. I know nothing! How the heck did I get this far?!"
Thursday evening, the primary nurse assigned to my patients ("my", ha!) has never liked me. I don't know what I did to her at the start of my clinical rotation two months ago, but she's been against me since day one. Actually, I do remember; I had no computer access, our patient's blood pressure was outside normal perimeters, and I asked her, when she had a moment, if I could pass along some info. She blew me off, then begrudgingly had me tell her, to which she blew me off again. The following week, she apologized for being so rude, as she "never does that" and I received the apology gracefully (if I do say so myself), but from that point on, whenever she was working, she'd a) ignore me b) scowl at me or c) treat me like I was a moron.
Attention RN's: I am here to be a help. I am here to learn. I am not a dim-wit, competition, or going to disservice you in any way. In fact; I am here to help. I am here to lessen your work load. I am here to make sure that you get what needs to be done, done. So, I'd appreciate a little respect, and for you to not cut me off, glare at me, or treat me like I'm less than human. Because I notice it, feel it, and hate it. So, thanks.
Completed my last med-surg exam (not my final) this week, with a 96%. The neuro exam was ridiculously easy. So at this point, barring some unforeseen disaster, it does appear as if I will be completing my third semester of nursing school, you know, the one that was promised to be the worst of the worst?
I feel as if I'm dreaming, constantly. None of this seems like reality. My clinical instructor told me that she could see me working as an oncology nurse. There's a thought. I don't know. The last month has seemed mindless to me. I'm trapped in my grief, and I can't summon up the...anything to care.
Monday. We'll talk Monday (or later), after the big, bad final (that I haven't really studied for/can't find the gumption to study for.)
The anticipation was high. I made it. I didn't love it, and it was perhaps my most challenging clinical yet, but I learned I can safely handle four patients, I can do IV push meds (always forbidden before this semester) and my knowledge base really, truly has improved.
It's funny though; on one hand I feel like "I've got this, nursing isn't that bad." On the other I'm like "I am going to kill someone. I know nothing! How the heck did I get this far?!"
Thursday evening, the primary nurse assigned to my patients ("my", ha!) has never liked me. I don't know what I did to her at the start of my clinical rotation two months ago, but she's been against me since day one. Actually, I do remember; I had no computer access, our patient's blood pressure was outside normal perimeters, and I asked her, when she had a moment, if I could pass along some info. She blew me off, then begrudgingly had me tell her, to which she blew me off again. The following week, she apologized for being so rude, as she "never does that" and I received the apology gracefully (if I do say so myself), but from that point on, whenever she was working, she'd a) ignore me b) scowl at me or c) treat me like I was a moron.
Attention RN's: I am here to be a help. I am here to learn. I am not a dim-wit, competition, or going to disservice you in any way. In fact; I am here to help. I am here to lessen your work load. I am here to make sure that you get what needs to be done, done. So, I'd appreciate a little respect, and for you to not cut me off, glare at me, or treat me like I'm less than human. Because I notice it, feel it, and hate it. So, thanks.
Completed my last med-surg exam (not my final) this week, with a 96%. The neuro exam was ridiculously easy. So at this point, barring some unforeseen disaster, it does appear as if I will be completing my third semester of nursing school, you know, the one that was promised to be the worst of the worst?
I feel as if I'm dreaming, constantly. None of this seems like reality. My clinical instructor told me that she could see me working as an oncology nurse. There's a thought. I don't know. The last month has seemed mindless to me. I'm trapped in my grief, and I can't summon up the...anything to care.
Monday. We'll talk Monday (or later), after the big, bad final (that I haven't really studied for/can't find the gumption to study for.)
Friday, December 4, 2015
Semester Three, Week Fourteen
I'm always in such a state of disbelief as the semester creeps to an end. It never feels like real life. One moment, I'm launched into the beginning of a semester, all the fears and concerns at the forefront, the next; I'm preparing for finals, ending clinicals, submitting paperwork and getting ready for a month off.
I'm struggling.
This year has been difficult.
I found out yesterday my friend's cancer has returned. And we're not talking a minor recurrence; we're talking stage four cancer with distant metastasis.
It really feels like there is a dark cloud over me; a heavy weight that cannot, will not be lifted.
Nine days, and I'll be done with third semester. I've completed pharmacolgy; had standardized testing to measure my knowledge against other nursing student's across the states. Incentive: If you do well enough, you get to skip the final. I remember hearing about that possibility my first semester of nursing school, and thinking I'd never get the grades to pass. Sure enough, no problem.
I have completed the last of this semester's Med-Surg lectures, on neuro disorders. There's something about declaring brain death that makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable and sad. Some of the tests to confirm said death are ancient sounding (reading the apnea test) while other's yet simply make me yearn for Heaven all the more. I'm tired of the pain, death, and suffering of this world.
One more week of clinicals. I really look forward to the end of that experience. I felt like a dunce during my clinical day yesterday, and just felt like I couldn't get it together. Though there was a moment when explaining what I heard on ausculation of a patient's lungs, that it felt real; here I was, so easily discussing rhonchi in the middle and lower lobes. Surreal.
We placed our fourth semester preceptor requests this week. I wrote "The reason I entered nursing was to eventuate in emergency medicine. It is my passion! I am willing to drive anywhere." I am hoping, praying for an ER preceptor spot. That alone would make my semester. If not (ever the Eeyore) I'm asking for anything but long-term care. *Shudder*
I'm just not feeling good enough for anything anymore. I can't snap out of the funk of losing my dog, and discovering my closest friend has cancer, again. The words of a friend stated a few weeks ago continue to echo in my mind "I keep you at arms length. You're a 'I'm in crisis' kind of friend."
Mix that in with the fact that I met a nice fellow over Thanksgiving break, got the commitment jitters and ran away faster than you can say peace. I'm a flight risk.
And so, nursing school. (I've been digressing a lot lately.) As of this writing, there are nine days, fifteen hours, and forty-two minutes left to this hellacious semester.
I'm struggling.
This year has been difficult.
I found out yesterday my friend's cancer has returned. And we're not talking a minor recurrence; we're talking stage four cancer with distant metastasis.
It really feels like there is a dark cloud over me; a heavy weight that cannot, will not be lifted.
Nine days, and I'll be done with third semester. I've completed pharmacolgy; had standardized testing to measure my knowledge against other nursing student's across the states. Incentive: If you do well enough, you get to skip the final. I remember hearing about that possibility my first semester of nursing school, and thinking I'd never get the grades to pass. Sure enough, no problem.
I have completed the last of this semester's Med-Surg lectures, on neuro disorders. There's something about declaring brain death that makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable and sad. Some of the tests to confirm said death are ancient sounding (reading the apnea test) while other's yet simply make me yearn for Heaven all the more. I'm tired of the pain, death, and suffering of this world.
One more week of clinicals. I really look forward to the end of that experience. I felt like a dunce during my clinical day yesterday, and just felt like I couldn't get it together. Though there was a moment when explaining what I heard on ausculation of a patient's lungs, that it felt real; here I was, so easily discussing rhonchi in the middle and lower lobes. Surreal.
We placed our fourth semester preceptor requests this week. I wrote "The reason I entered nursing was to eventuate in emergency medicine. It is my passion! I am willing to drive anywhere." I am hoping, praying for an ER preceptor spot. That alone would make my semester. If not (ever the Eeyore) I'm asking for anything but long-term care. *Shudder*
I'm just not feeling good enough for anything anymore. I can't snap out of the funk of losing my dog, and discovering my closest friend has cancer, again. The words of a friend stated a few weeks ago continue to echo in my mind "I keep you at arms length. You're a 'I'm in crisis' kind of friend."
Mix that in with the fact that I met a nice fellow over Thanksgiving break, got the commitment jitters and ran away faster than you can say peace. I'm a flight risk.
And so, nursing school. (I've been digressing a lot lately.) As of this writing, there are nine days, fifteen hours, and forty-two minutes left to this hellacious semester.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
Semester Three, Week Thirteen
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.
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.
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