Working Women Wednesday

I haven't put up an interesting work tid-bit in a while. So maybe I'll try this 'working women Wednesday' gig, since i work on Tues. nights, it might jog my memory. And man, this morning after having been awake for over 27 hours in running, I had lots of ideas of things I wanted to blog about. I think the creative mind must go into overdrive after being awake for that long. Don't professional writers do their best work at like 3 in the morning or something??? Well I have now had 4 hours of sleep, so I can't promise even mediocre work here. Wewhhh, did I go on a tangent there.
ANYWAYS......here's one that might make you squirm. Sometimes when patients get really imunocompromissed (in other words their immune system is shot to pieces for one reason or another), they become incredibly susceptible to even their own bodies natural bugs. But one thing that can occasionally happen, and it's pretty life threatening (as if the person didn't already have something life threatening going on) is that a person can develop what is called.....are you ready.....fungal balls all throughout their body. Yes, you read that right, it's called fungal balls. As nurses, after we hear that our patient has this, we say, 'ahhh, no,' we then squirm and say a big long 'ewwwwwww' on the inside (can i get an amen you nursing bloggers).
As a side note, after having worked in my department for 3 years, I have had many children be very close to dying on my shift, or have helped a co-worker with their patient as they expired, or have gotten a patient ready for organ donation, but never have I had a patient actually pass away while on my watch and on my shift. This happened for the first time over a week ago. I can't give details of coarse, and I have intentionally not written this close to the date of it happening, but it was pretty horrible (as if that even comes close to describing it). The patient died a terrible death (away from the hospital), and the entire time he was under my care, it was all in vein to try and bring the patient back from death essentially. Picture a crazy ER scene with tons of people all working on one person, and that pretty much sums it up...along with tons of family freaking out (semi-appropriately) in the hallway. Finally, the doctors decided that our efforts were futile (after 6 hours), and told the family so, and we all stepped out of the way, and let the family come in to spend those last minutes with their child. But then the family leaves, leaving their child behind with us, and it's my turn again. The room is trashed from the hecticness of the previous hours, and the patient is still there, tubes and lines and everything still intact (because the patient will be a coroners case, so all lines and invasive things have to stay put). I now have to clean the room....and the patient, giving them their last bath. Nurses are pretty good about making sure that you don' t have to do this job alone, so I had help, but it's still not enough sometimes. Giving a child their last bath is so sad, and quiet and sur-real. And when that's over, and the rooms clean, you get a body bag off the cart in the back, tag their toe with all their info, and place them inside the bag. It's the zipping that thing up over their face that is so nauseating. I heard someone say recently that police, doctors, nurses etc, give a piece of themselves up when they choose to do this kind of work and see these kind of things. I am beginning to think that's true. This part of my life gets tucked away from the hum-drum of 'normal' life that most experience everyday, and that i participate in when I'm home. But it's there, in my subconscious still bothering me, waking me up with jolts at night as if I've been the one shocked by the defibrillator... wondering if there was something more i could have done, but really knowing that there wasn't. And the whole time that the patient is trying to die, your thinking to yourself....don't die...don't die.......and then.....but i know it would be better for you if you did. It makes me think of this quote i heard on a show that i saw once about the residents at John Hopkins Hospital...this resident doctor said, that when working with kids, what you know that the parents don't is that sometimes the worst thing isn't death. And maybe only nurses and doctors can understand that or someone who has seen it, but I think she was right. Regardless, we are going to do whatever the family wants, and give of ourselves to see that it happens.
Holy Moly, that was heavy, okay how about something a bit lighter and embarrasing to end. This morning when I was taking a shower i almost laughed out loud when i leaned over and suddenly took notice and thought just how funny looking my upper body parts are now....(for modesty sake the upper body parts shall remain nameless). Where the heck did those come from and where is that body-snatcher that took the good ones.