So I decided to come visit my brother for the weekend. Funny thing is, he's not here. Won't be here until late tomorrow evening. So why did I come so early knowing that?
He has a cat.
Mouser. His name used to me Sebastian, which is very formal and serious, but if you have seen pictures of this cat, you will see how undignified he actually is. When I asked my brother why he named him Mouser, he shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "Because when he meow's it's more like "mou." "
Sounds like mowh. not so much like mouse. So he is one of my 4 favorite "mou-mous."
It's good to be me cause I get the kittie all to myself, even if it is just for one night. I miss having a kittie!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Colors
It has been pointed out that the cool color of crocs abroad is ORANGE. I know the shade. It's not a subtle, la la la orange. It's a screaming "lookatme!" statement. Let's keep it abroad!
Not to mention that orange clashes with light blue, which is the only color of scrubs this hospital allows.
Most the nurses are still wearing the maroon/burgundy Danskos, which I personally never wore because they add a good 3 inches to your stature.
It's funny how with blogging, you think you are going to write about one thing, but it comes out completely different.
I was going to post about how frusterating it can be trying to convince a 23 year old that he really could die from his GVH (graft vs. host...look it up if you want to be grossed out and/or just thankful you don't have it.)
It is hard to explain to him that he could likely die in a puddle of his own feces. That, in case he hasn't noticed, he had pooped 4,500 ml of liquid poop in the past 24 hours. That's about 2 gallons.
And it is harder still to know that his wife is due to give birth in July, and today the doctors told him he has a 30% survival rate....if he cooperates, which so far he does not want to do.
When we say survival, we don't mean "back to normal." We mean, you will be able to breathe on your own.
Survival does not mean you can pee, poop, eat, turn over in bed, lift your arm up, sit up, cough, walk, talk, or move at all... on your own.
I don't think people understand that.
It certainly does come down to "quality of life." But there is no definition of that, really.
If someone told you that by drinking juice you could die, would you believe them?
If you knew you might live by not eating anything, or drinking anything, would you do it? Especially if you knew you were getting all the nutrition you needed through your IV?
Everyone is different. Some people would say "I don't care. If I am going to die, why not tackle that steak?"
Others would say, "I will do my best, even if it means I don't even swallow my own spit!"
It is facinating, yet heart wrenching, to see how people make decisions in their life. Especially critical ones, like how to fight. Or how to live.
It seems so simple for me to logically look at him and think, "If it was me, I would be doing every single thing the nurses and doctors are telling me to do. I want to live. If they tell me to touch my nose every 2 hours, then I'm watching the clock and setting alarms!"
But I am not in his shoes. I don't make decisions for people. And thank God for that! Sometimes it is such a huge relief that I don't have to make this decision for them. That no matter what they choose to do, God's will be done.
I guess that's what makes it easy to separate from the struggles at the end of the day: they aren't my struggles.
I think I know how I would react, what I would decide. Hopefully it will never be my decision to make. But if that time comes, it will be my decision.
From orange crocs to this. Funny how blogging takes you where it will!
It's good to be me and be able to blog about it!
Not to mention that orange clashes with light blue, which is the only color of scrubs this hospital allows.
Most the nurses are still wearing the maroon/burgundy Danskos, which I personally never wore because they add a good 3 inches to your stature.
It's funny how with blogging, you think you are going to write about one thing, but it comes out completely different.
I was going to post about how frusterating it can be trying to convince a 23 year old that he really could die from his GVH (graft vs. host...look it up if you want to be grossed out and/or just thankful you don't have it.)
It is hard to explain to him that he could likely die in a puddle of his own feces. That, in case he hasn't noticed, he had pooped 4,500 ml of liquid poop in the past 24 hours. That's about 2 gallons.
And it is harder still to know that his wife is due to give birth in July, and today the doctors told him he has a 30% survival rate....if he cooperates, which so far he does not want to do.
When we say survival, we don't mean "back to normal." We mean, you will be able to breathe on your own.
Survival does not mean you can pee, poop, eat, turn over in bed, lift your arm up, sit up, cough, walk, talk, or move at all... on your own.
I don't think people understand that.
It certainly does come down to "quality of life." But there is no definition of that, really.
If someone told you that by drinking juice you could die, would you believe them?
If you knew you might live by not eating anything, or drinking anything, would you do it? Especially if you knew you were getting all the nutrition you needed through your IV?
Everyone is different. Some people would say "I don't care. If I am going to die, why not tackle that steak?"
Others would say, "I will do my best, even if it means I don't even swallow my own spit!"
It is facinating, yet heart wrenching, to see how people make decisions in their life. Especially critical ones, like how to fight. Or how to live.
It seems so simple for me to logically look at him and think, "If it was me, I would be doing every single thing the nurses and doctors are telling me to do. I want to live. If they tell me to touch my nose every 2 hours, then I'm watching the clock and setting alarms!"
But I am not in his shoes. I don't make decisions for people. And thank God for that! Sometimes it is such a huge relief that I don't have to make this decision for them. That no matter what they choose to do, God's will be done.
I guess that's what makes it easy to separate from the struggles at the end of the day: they aren't my struggles.
I think I know how I would react, what I would decide. Hopefully it will never be my decision to make. But if that time comes, it will be my decision.
From orange crocs to this. Funny how blogging takes you where it will!
It's good to be me and be able to blog about it!
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
1 more
I am excited because I have 6 days off in a row. Now what to do with them?
Maybe a hike? Maybe a drive up through the mountains? Maybe a trip to visit with my brother?
The opportunities are endless. And, for a bonus, it is suposed to be nice weather!
Just 1 more shift, then it will be good to be me again!
Maybe a hike? Maybe a drive up through the mountains? Maybe a trip to visit with my brother?
The opportunities are endless. And, for a bonus, it is suposed to be nice weather!
Just 1 more shift, then it will be good to be me again!
Monday, May 21, 2007
The bright side
Night shift is certainly not getting easier, but on the bright side, it is not getting any harder! I'll take that!
I have been meeting some really great new people who I have really been enjoying working with and getting to know.
Every hospital has the "stereotypical" nurse. Without meaning to sound racist, sexist or anything else-ist, I simply must point out some of my observations.
In San Diego, it is a short, cute Philipino nurse who is in her 40's or 50's.
In Los Angeles, it is a short, tiny Philipino nurse in her 20's.
In Philadelphia, it is an average but beautiful Indian nurse.
In Texas (Dallas at least), it is a heavy, 40's to 50's slower white nurse.
In Sacramento it was a smaller Russian woman who is "older" although you could never guess her age.
In San Francisco, it was thin, brainy looking uptight nurses who were very PC.
In Hawaii, it was taller (and I use the term loosely, being nearly 6 foot) beautiful, funloving Hawaiians, who at all times had a flower tucked behind an ear. Really.
In Colorado, it is a taller, muscular burnette, who looks like they have never touched makeup in their life, but they are good looking without it.
Of course, these are very broad generalizations, but it is interesting to me. I was suprised to work with such a "white" group of girls.
I enjoy working with them all, and have learned so much from each place I have worked. I have gotten to try wonderful dishes brought in for an abundance of potlucks, and gotten to learn phrases, most of which I have forgotten, in other languages.
I have enjoyed traveling the states. Being a traveler has allowed me sneak-peaks at other cultures, not just of the city I am in, but far away countries too.
I have met Indians, Hawaiians, Samoans, Philipinos, Canadians (Yeah!) Ethiopians, Russians, Croatians, Chinese, Japanese, Australians, Brits, Germans, and who knows what else!
It is so interesting trying the different foods, hearing the different customs, even trying the different dances when there is time!
I never went into nursing thinking I would get a taste of so many parts of the world, but that has certainly been an added bonus!
I love hearing the stories, the beliefs, the traditions, and how holidays are celebrated. If nothing else, it makes my own beliefs stronger. It feels really good to help define your beliefs, and if I can help someone become stronger in thier own belief, so much the better!
On a completely different note, I am working on the north wing, which is the oncology ICU part of our 3 parts. A long time ago, when I was a baby nurse, I started out working in the ICU. There were times I loved it, and there were times I was so scared I didn't know what to do. Being back on this floor, even though I have very stable patients, who can walk and talk and everything that means they probably shouldn't be on this floor, I get so see and help with the patients who are here because they really should be. I remember things about the ICU that I loved.
I loved being able to give the patient the kind of bath they deserved, taking the time to wash between the toes, under the nails and the sort. I loved being able to comfort the family and explaining to them what I am doing and why, pointing out the colorful numbers on the screen and letting them in on which ones are what, and what we are looking for when we watch them.
I loved being able to ask a family member to help do something, even as simple as holding a hand so the patient does not pull out a tube while I turn them. Or asking them to help put the pillow back. It is so good to give them something, anything that can help ease that horrid feeling of helplessness.
I love that I got to know everything about my patient. That I got to be close to them and not constantly running out of the room. Everything was in the room. I got to stay with my patient.
Even if they couldn't talk, or maybe it was because they couldn't talk, it just squeezed my heart, and it made it so much easier to have complete compassion for them. It was like thier life was in my hands, and I really was nurturing them and helping them get better.
It is good to do what I do. I love what I do. That is probably one of life's greatest blessings.
(and for those of you who were wondering, my crocs are light blue today!)
I have been meeting some really great new people who I have really been enjoying working with and getting to know.
Every hospital has the "stereotypical" nurse. Without meaning to sound racist, sexist or anything else-ist, I simply must point out some of my observations.
In San Diego, it is a short, cute Philipino nurse who is in her 40's or 50's.
In Los Angeles, it is a short, tiny Philipino nurse in her 20's.
In Philadelphia, it is an average but beautiful Indian nurse.
In Texas (Dallas at least), it is a heavy, 40's to 50's slower white nurse.
In Sacramento it was a smaller Russian woman who is "older" although you could never guess her age.
In San Francisco, it was thin, brainy looking uptight nurses who were very PC.
In Hawaii, it was taller (and I use the term loosely, being nearly 6 foot) beautiful, funloving Hawaiians, who at all times had a flower tucked behind an ear. Really.
In Colorado, it is a taller, muscular burnette, who looks like they have never touched makeup in their life, but they are good looking without it.
Of course, these are very broad generalizations, but it is interesting to me. I was suprised to work with such a "white" group of girls.
I enjoy working with them all, and have learned so much from each place I have worked. I have gotten to try wonderful dishes brought in for an abundance of potlucks, and gotten to learn phrases, most of which I have forgotten, in other languages.
I have enjoyed traveling the states. Being a traveler has allowed me sneak-peaks at other cultures, not just of the city I am in, but far away countries too.
I have met Indians, Hawaiians, Samoans, Philipinos, Canadians (Yeah!) Ethiopians, Russians, Croatians, Chinese, Japanese, Australians, Brits, Germans, and who knows what else!
It is so interesting trying the different foods, hearing the different customs, even trying the different dances when there is time!
I never went into nursing thinking I would get a taste of so many parts of the world, but that has certainly been an added bonus!
I love hearing the stories, the beliefs, the traditions, and how holidays are celebrated. If nothing else, it makes my own beliefs stronger. It feels really good to help define your beliefs, and if I can help someone become stronger in thier own belief, so much the better!
On a completely different note, I am working on the north wing, which is the oncology ICU part of our 3 parts. A long time ago, when I was a baby nurse, I started out working in the ICU. There were times I loved it, and there were times I was so scared I didn't know what to do. Being back on this floor, even though I have very stable patients, who can walk and talk and everything that means they probably shouldn't be on this floor, I get so see and help with the patients who are here because they really should be. I remember things about the ICU that I loved.
I loved being able to give the patient the kind of bath they deserved, taking the time to wash between the toes, under the nails and the sort. I loved being able to comfort the family and explaining to them what I am doing and why, pointing out the colorful numbers on the screen and letting them in on which ones are what, and what we are looking for when we watch them.
I loved being able to ask a family member to help do something, even as simple as holding a hand so the patient does not pull out a tube while I turn them. Or asking them to help put the pillow back. It is so good to give them something, anything that can help ease that horrid feeling of helplessness.
I love that I got to know everything about my patient. That I got to be close to them and not constantly running out of the room. Everything was in the room. I got to stay with my patient.
Even if they couldn't talk, or maybe it was because they couldn't talk, it just squeezed my heart, and it made it so much easier to have complete compassion for them. It was like thier life was in my hands, and I really was nurturing them and helping them get better.
It is good to do what I do. I love what I do. That is probably one of life's greatest blessings.
(and for those of you who were wondering, my crocs are light blue today!)
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Crocs
I am sure by now most of you have seen someone wearing Crocs, those big, awkward plasticy shoes in a rainbow of colors with holes in them. They are ugly as sin, in my own opinion.
That said, I also think they are one of the most comfortable things in the world.
They recently came out with Mary Jane crocs, and I was fortunate enough to find a pair of them in my current favorite color, lavender, and in my size! Being a size 11 makes shoe buying difficult sometimes. Most shoes go up to 10, but not 11. So imagine my delight when I found these.
When I showed up at work tonight, I got an abundance of "Ooohs" and "Aaaahs" from just about everyone. The nurse I gave report to spotted them and raved, especially saying how tiny my feet look in them. Imagine that! Tiny!
It is good to be me! I just wish I had a picture to show you all my cute lavender Mary Janes!
That said, I also think they are one of the most comfortable things in the world.
They recently came out with Mary Jane crocs, and I was fortunate enough to find a pair of them in my current favorite color, lavender, and in my size! Being a size 11 makes shoe buying difficult sometimes. Most shoes go up to 10, but not 11. So imagine my delight when I found these.
When I showed up at work tonight, I got an abundance of "Ooohs" and "Aaaahs" from just about everyone. The nurse I gave report to spotted them and raved, especially saying how tiny my feet look in them. Imagine that! Tiny!
It is good to be me! I just wish I had a picture to show you all my cute lavender Mary Janes!
NIght shift
I worked the night shift for about 5 years, during school and after. Now I know most of you "older" people still think 28 is young, but it has been about 2 years since I have worked nights, and it is so much harder than I remember it being!
I still love that usually (knock on wood) it is slower, and I have time to do stuff like this. Blog. And sit. And talk to my patients. When they are awake that is. It seems these patients are all about sleeping. Not that I mind. I'm just a little jealous.
That is wrong on some level. Me wanting to trade places with a cancer patient. Well, stranger things have happened.
The first night of a 2 or 3 night stent is definately the hardest. Around 11 my body starts to protest, insisting that it is time to lay down and close my eyes. Then, by 2, my body is so confused it does not know if it is coming or going.
I have taken to walking down the halls for 20 minute increments, if time and patients allow for it.
Double bonus: it keeps me more awake, and I am getting paid to work out! Cool deal.
It is good to be me, since I am getting paid to blog at the moment. It's all about how you look at things. Between the blood, the platelets, the potassium, I can blog.
I also just wanted to take a moment to say how much I enjoy getting to read all of your blogs. I am impressed with the beauty and energy that gets poured out into this cyber world through all your blogs. Keep it up, ladies and gentlemen!
I still love that usually (knock on wood) it is slower, and I have time to do stuff like this. Blog. And sit. And talk to my patients. When they are awake that is. It seems these patients are all about sleeping. Not that I mind. I'm just a little jealous.
That is wrong on some level. Me wanting to trade places with a cancer patient. Well, stranger things have happened.
The first night of a 2 or 3 night stent is definately the hardest. Around 11 my body starts to protest, insisting that it is time to lay down and close my eyes. Then, by 2, my body is so confused it does not know if it is coming or going.
I have taken to walking down the halls for 20 minute increments, if time and patients allow for it.
Double bonus: it keeps me more awake, and I am getting paid to work out! Cool deal.
It is good to be me, since I am getting paid to blog at the moment. It's all about how you look at things. Between the blood, the platelets, the potassium, I can blog.
I also just wanted to take a moment to say how much I enjoy getting to read all of your blogs. I am impressed with the beauty and energy that gets poured out into this cyber world through all your blogs. Keep it up, ladies and gentlemen!
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
I know everyone always says they have the best mom in the world, but I really do.
My mom is my absolute #1 fan. She supports me through thick and thin. She has held me when I cried, and hugged me when I rejoiced.
She has challenged me to do and be my best, and repectfully puts me back in my place when I need to be put there.
She has listened to me, read my blog, read my stories, tasted my cooking, smelled the "soap creations" I used to make as a kid, rubbed my back, done hundreds of "little things", and stepped up to the big things.
I know I can depend on my mom. I know she loves me.
She is the smartest person I know. Imagine that. A smart librarian!
She has the smartest wit, a graceful vocabulary, and she knows how to use them!
She makes the most amazing creations: hats, stories, blogs, paintings, meals, homes, outfits and poems.
I love that she has no sence of direction whatsoever, that her singing and dancing amuses me to no end, and she's not a fan of "noise" (or what I call music.)
My mom is cute.
She raised me, and I think that is saying the most.
She let me live when I cut ALL the daffodils in the garden to make an arrangement the day before a real estate appraisal.
She let me live when, at 15 1/2 I backed up our van into a parked car.
She let me live even after I fed pennies into the air conditioner in the car.
She let me live despite my putting my plastic blocks into the oven.
And she loves me. Despite it all.
She is truly the greatest!
Mom, just wanted to give you a shout out! I love you! Happy Mother's Day! You did a wonderful job of raising us kiddos. THank you for every sacrifice you made, from career, to grocery trips in which you had to leave groceries in cart because of a tantrum, to the countless hours of sleep both when we were babies, as well as when we were teens, and beyond.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being amazing. THank you for your strength, courage, and patience.
Thank you for all the times you watched when I called "Mommy! Watch me Mommy!" and then did some underwater summersault, followed by "Wait! I messed up! Watch again!"
You rock!
It's good to be me cause I have you as my mother.
I love you.
My mom is my absolute #1 fan. She supports me through thick and thin. She has held me when I cried, and hugged me when I rejoiced.
She has challenged me to do and be my best, and repectfully puts me back in my place when I need to be put there.
She has listened to me, read my blog, read my stories, tasted my cooking, smelled the "soap creations" I used to make as a kid, rubbed my back, done hundreds of "little things", and stepped up to the big things.
I know I can depend on my mom. I know she loves me.
She is the smartest person I know. Imagine that. A smart librarian!
She has the smartest wit, a graceful vocabulary, and she knows how to use them!
She makes the most amazing creations: hats, stories, blogs, paintings, meals, homes, outfits and poems.
I love that she has no sence of direction whatsoever, that her singing and dancing amuses me to no end, and she's not a fan of "noise" (or what I call music.)
My mom is cute.
She raised me, and I think that is saying the most.
She let me live when I cut ALL the daffodils in the garden to make an arrangement the day before a real estate appraisal.
She let me live when, at 15 1/2 I backed up our van into a parked car.
She let me live even after I fed pennies into the air conditioner in the car.
She let me live despite my putting my plastic blocks into the oven.
And she loves me. Despite it all.
She is truly the greatest!
Mom, just wanted to give you a shout out! I love you! Happy Mother's Day! You did a wonderful job of raising us kiddos. THank you for every sacrifice you made, from career, to grocery trips in which you had to leave groceries in cart because of a tantrum, to the countless hours of sleep both when we were babies, as well as when we were teens, and beyond.
Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being amazing. THank you for your strength, courage, and patience.
Thank you for all the times you watched when I called "Mommy! Watch me Mommy!" and then did some underwater summersault, followed by "Wait! I messed up! Watch again!"
You rock!
It's good to be me cause I have you as my mother.
I love you.
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