I'm Surprised Her Head Fit Through Her Shirt

No, this is not about a patient, but rather a nursing student whose ego flared like the sun.

Yesterday was the day we all got to practice our vital sign skills on...drumroll please...the nursing students who are a year ahead of us!

My partner and I kinda looked at each other, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing: "Please don't let us get the egocentric snobby girl."

I don't need to tell you, I'm sure, about how all of our wishes did not come true. As soon as she sat down, we could immediately see she wanted nothing to do with us. Perhaps we were lowly scum, and having her precious arm in our dirty blood pressure cuff was sickening her. (By the way, our cuffs are not dirty. Just thought I'd clarify:) We introduced ourselves like civilized ladies and thanked her for her time.

My partner put the cuff on her, and began the procedure as we were taught, as it is in the book, and the first thing out of her mouth was, "Um, what are you doing?"

"I'm taking your blood pressure," my partner replied as steam began to rise from her ears.

Then she laughed at my partner. "Ok. Why are you doing it that way?"

"Because this is how we were taught. This is what's in the book."

"Yeah, well, you can't take blood pressure that way because..." (and here she explained why we should not take blood pressure this way. And I wanted to chuckle privately as I thought about saying to her My God. It's utter rediculousness that someone with intelligence of your obvious magnitude is still in school, and not writing text books like the veteran RN-MSN-PHN who wrote ours.)

Instead, I said, "I understand that. But we were told to go by the book. This was what our instructor wanted us to do, and if he caught us in clinicals doing it otherwise, we would get marked for that. So, you understand why we do it this way?"

She continued to chuckle, belittle, and have attitude. So, I thought maybe it was a kind of test to see how we handled that, but as I looked around and listened, every other student in her class was smiling and helping.

Then she got up, and the "good-cop" sat down, and she was the sweetest woman. She smiled, encouraged, spoke to us like the adults we are (and by the way, I am almost 30. Miss attitude had to be younger than me...just a side note :). And it was like night and day!

The point of this story is not only what makes a good nurse, but what makes a good person?

When you work your way through the boot camp that is nursing school, you have every reason to be proud of yourself. But pride should never be substituted for humbleness.

Your patient's are not going to care how many tests you aced, nor will they care how many big medical words you know when their collar bone is sticking out of their neck and they just want it back where it belongs and some serious pain meds. And the uniform or scrubs you wear with authority wont mean anything to the woman whose mother is dying. What they should say is "I'm here, and I care, and I will do what I can."

Looking back on yesterday, I realized I was not completely innocent. My thoughts about that nursing student were not ones of humbleness and humility (maybe that test she just took was draining; maybe her pet turtle just retreated into his shell for the last time) or whatever. Point is, you never know what's going on in someone's life.

It's a fine line between pride and humbleness that a nurse must walk. The good ones are the ones who find the balance.

Meeting the New Instructor

Yesterday, we got to officially meet our new instructor. Our current instructor is really only filling in - he's already teaching the full-time day students. But we really like him, which made knowing he was leaving scary, because what would our new teacher be like?

We met her last week, but only for a few minutes, and didn't know anything about her at all.

We were all so skeptical and nervous. But, I had a feeling I was going to like her, and so far, I do.

She's been nursing for 28 years, and she's still so passionate about it! She's worked on every floor in every situation. When we asked her why she chose to teach (this is her first teaching job), she had this smile on her face and said "it's just a new adventure in nursing!"

I mean, we could not ask for a better quality in a teacher! We really are lucky, and maybe her passion for nursing will translate over to teaching, and it will become contagious. Hopefully, she'll keep that enthusiasm.

Some of my classmates are still a little iffy about her, but I say you gotta give people a fair chance. Don't pass judgement until you're certain they possess qualities that you loathe.

I think she'll be great, simple as that. I just pray we won't scare her away.

The Rollercoaster of Emotions that was my First Clinicals

So, I  know I said I would let you know first thing Monday about my first two clinicals, but honestly, I was putting it off.

But I have to write it out and get it out.

I decided Friday night that I would hope for the best and expect the worst (and I'm sure you can guess what the worst thing would be as far as walking in to a nursing home as a nursing student for the first time).

I woke up at 4 a.m. Saturday morning ready to go; had my coffee, did a little reading up on assessing patients etc., and had my "let's do this!" music all set up for the short drive to the facility. I was excited I was working with the person I wanted to work with, and I kept mentally pumping myself up.

The first thing we did was look at a chart the size of a phonebook, and I could only make guesses as to what I was looking at. My partner happened to be a CNA years ago, and she still works in an LTC (long-term care) facility, so she's looking and flipping, looking and flipping, and I did my best to keep up. (I did gently tell her the second day to please slow down and tell me what it was I was looking at, and she did it without question. She's a great partner.)

Then, the 30 minutes of looking over our patient's chart was over, and it was time to go meet and greet her. And what I had expected to happen, happened. I walked into a smell I will never forget. The heat from the room's personal heater mixed with it and just blasted me in the face as soon as I opened the door.

 But I took it like a champ. I made a decision right then that I would not gag, throw up, run away, or faint. I called on my powers of wifedom and motherhood (the things that have been most challenging in my life) to help give me strength. And it worked.

The whole day was overwhelming, and right away I caught the sights, sounds, and smells that I knew I would have to quickly get over. And our patient had everything: Alzheimers, COPD, psoriasis, hypertension, edema, obesity, diabetes, the list of what was wrong and all the meds to try and make it right went on.

I thought I did ok dealing with the emotions that took me that first day. But nothing could have prepared me for the second day.

Our patient had had enough of us (and everyone else for that matter - and why they gave us a patient who is well known for consistently refusing care is beyond me) so we were assigned a new patient. All we had time to do by then was roll her down to the dining area (which is smaller than my livingroom) for lunch, then bring her back to her room for rest.

As we sat there waiting for the lunch cart, I was looking at these ten patients in their wheelchairs, bibs around their neck, some falling asleep and some staring off at nothing or talking to no one...and I lost it.

I didn't make a scene! It was more an emotional "losing it". I smiled at my partner and said, "excuse me a moment. I just need to use the bathroom." And I quietly slipped out to an unbusy hallway.

My eyes were burning fiercely, and my chin was doing that whole "I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry, pull yourself together" thing. I don't know what happened. Cleaning poo? Fine. Seeing things on a naked body I didn't even know were possible? No problem. Watching what a full life lived ends up as - in a wheelchair with a bib on while someone more than half your age wipes pureed turkey off your face? Not so much.

But I had to be stronger than that, at least for the moment. I dabbed my eyes, took some deep breaths, put a smile on my face, and went to help feed a patient.

I cried the whole way home. I cried while my poor husband consoled me. And I talked to my partner on the phone later that day. I was so happy to know she understands exactly what I'm going through, and she thinks I will be a great nurse. "Don't give up!" And knowing we both want to work in Peds (with babies) or in L&D (labor and delivery) and that geriatrics just isn't for us makes me feel a little more confident. This won't be forever, and from what everyone says, I will get used to it anyway.

Was the first weekend of clinicals what I expected? No way.

Should I give up now and save myself the trouble?

No way.

Clinicals for REAL, with a touch of good news!

The first clinicals are this Saturday and Sunday, for real this time! And, my touch of good news: I'm working with the person I was hoping to work with, and the Long Term Care Facility is about 45 seconds from my house.

YAAAYY!

That's it for now; the juicy stuff will have to wait until Monday.