The things you learn....

To be honest, there are some moments at work when 

I really hate my job. 

 Or to be more precise, I hate the stress

that comes with it. 

In no way did my education prepare

me for what being a nurse was truly like. 

There is nothing more

frightening than having a person's life

depend on your skills and judgement. 

There is also nothing more

rewarding than helping

another person

on the road to recovery. 

At least a few times a shift I grumble over

something.

It could be my patient's IV pump going off for the 

eleventh time even though I primed and flicked

every bubble out of the tubing. 

Or it could be that I was informed 

that yet again, we have 

to do more redundant charting so Medicare

will reimburse us... it takes more time

away from my patients. 

Possibly it could be the nurse

I am giving report to who turns it into

an interrogation session (excuse me, this

is not Guantanamo Bay)... but when she 

gives me report she tells me they are 

a FULL CODE and they have an IV site. Thanks? 

Or, it could be a patient's

girlfriend who went to medical assisting

school and has decided

she will be making all of the 

patient's decisions for him. 

She makes us stop his antibiotics for

his cellulitis

and wants to sign him out against

medical advice. 

Apparently they don't teach in medical assisting

school that cellulitis

can lead to sepsis which

can kill you. 

Rough stuff. 

These things just barely brush the surface of what

drives me to the brink

of insanity everyday. 

There are also moments I will never forget.

There is so much that has happened to me in

my first year of nursing... I honestly should write a book.

Like the first time I had a hospice patient and

a family member hugged me and said

thank you when the patient died. 

I cried in the bathroom five minutes later. 

Or the moment when an off-coming nurse

told me a man's girlfriend was rude to the 

staff and very annoying. And my first encounter with 

her I wasn't very nice. 

Until I saw she was just riddled with anxiety and

stress. I felt so ashamed of myself I 

got her a cup a coffee with a double shot 

of "I am very sorry for my behavior this morning". 

She forgave me. I was lucky. 

 

 The time I delivered a baby at work

when I haven't been on a labor and 

delivery floor in over a year

as an intern. 

A blue breech baby with a cord around it's neck

and the placenta already out, and somehow

the resident physician and myself

managed to get him to take a breath after I caught him

and got the cord off his neck. 


Or, last week I walked my patient
around the unit (which was difficult only
because this guy had drips and lines and drains
everywhere), made his bed, and helped him wash up. His
wife brought me a Starbucks coffee from our coffee
shop and told me I was a good nurse. 
And I felt like one because for once I was
able to spend time with all of my patients.

I complain about my job a lot. My amazing friend and fellow RN Jennifer and I 

spend many a hour talking about how we would change

things if we could, 

or how we will both end up 

in a psych ward

doodling butterflies in crayon

while being heavily sedated with haldol. 

But the fact is, nurses and doctors and other clinical 

staff have the rare opportunity to change

someone's life. 

Sometimes even save one.

There aren't too many jobs, nay careers, out there

that give that kind of reward. 

Although my job has made me Queen of the Eye Roll, 

it's also made me a better human being.

It's given me some experiences I would never have had 

anywhere else or in any other

capacity. 

And to me, that is worth more than a paycheck. 

My supervisors surprising me with an award

after delivering the parking lot baby.