Nursing

What Time Do I Wake Up and Go to Bed?

I wish I could predict. I would love to have a regular time but I have a hummingbird sleep pattern. I am plagued with restless legs and knee pain, so I never know if I will sleep once I go to bed. I take Requip but I still get breakthrough cramps. Last night, I went to bed at eight and slept till seven. Tonight I went to bed at ten, slept about an hour then woke up with knee pain. I had forgotten to take my tylenol before I went to bed. I hope to be back to sleep by two. It will be nice if I sleep till seven. Besides that, I make a couple of bathroom trips nightly.

My sleep patterns got really messed up when I took call as an acute dialysis nurse. It was not uncommon to get called out between midnight and two several nights a week. Quite often, after finishing a late treatment, I’d lock myself in my unit and sleep a couple of hours before I had to start the day shift. If I were lucky, I’d work part of the day shift before going home to get an afternoon nap.

I still crave sleep.

Cartoon from “All Nurses”

I Love Mr. Henry

 

loveMr. Henry was the one admitted as a patient, but the nurses took care of Miss Alice, too.  Mr. Henry had to have been in his late forties when he married simple-minded little Miss Alice, a girl of fourteen.  Nowadays, that would have been a case for the courts, but when it happened back in the sixties, there was no one to speak for Miss Alice.  They’d been married more than thirty years when I knew them and appeared to dote on each other.  Miss Alice never voluntarily left his side, except to go down to the courtyard to bum cigarettes from patients and staff smoking in the long ago days when hospitals had smoking areas.  Sometimes she even talked folks out of a little money.  After a successful run, she’d bring a couple back up to him to smoke in the room.  Miss Alice ended almost every conversation with, “I love Mr. Henry

Knowing Miss Alice didn’t have money to eat in the cafeteria, the staff always slipped her the “extra tray.”  She also knew her way around the kitchen and dipped into the popsicles, ice cream, juice, and milk for herself and Mr. Henry.  Over the three or four years I cared for Mr. Henry, I saw him get sicker and sicker.  Though he loved Miss Alice, he was a horny old-goat.  Staff had to dance to keep from being patted and pinched, but he was savvy enough not to do it in front of Miss Alice.  She told us she’d whipped a couple of women over Mr. Henry.  I, for one, didn’t want to get patted and “whipped.”  One day, he had a seizure.  We initiated resuscitation and worked to get him back.  The first sign of success was when he squeezed a nurse’s breast while she was trying to get his blood pressure.  We felt pretty sure he was back to normal, then.

Even though he was an unapologetic, old lecher, we were fond of Mr. Henry, probably because we loved Miss Alice. One day, I heard Mr. Henry had died. I’ve wondered so many times how Miss Alice fared after his death.

She loved Mr. Henry.

 

Out of Retirement

Though I retired from my nursing career several years ago, a few days ago I was involuntarily called out of retirement.  Hubby is suffering from back pain.  We are rotating out heating pads, cushions, medications, and positioning in an effort to get him comfortable.  So far, we haven’t found the magic combination. He is improving and looks forward to the benefit of physical therapy.  I do believe hospital nursing was easier.  There was support staff, change of shift, and a paycheck to look forward to.

The food doodling has been a huge deal. He alternates between sitting in his recliner and a wooden rocker. I bring his food on a tray. I definitely don’t want him trying to pick his way around Croc.

I can’t guess how many steps I’ve made between his chair and the kitchen. I did myself a solid favor today, can’t imagine why it took me so long to get my thoughts together. I put all the snacks in the house in this box. It rests serenely on his right side. On the left is a trash can. He tore into a package of taffy. I thought I detected a lifting of his spirits. After he opened the trail mix, it was definite. I suspect he’ll recover.

Bud’s get well gift and my salvation

The poor dogs are having a hard time.  Hubby is far superior when it comes to walking.  I cut them short.  Also, he gives them a cookie after every walk.  I am far stingier, limiting them to a couple a day, landing  me on their dirt list.  From earlier in post You can surmise Bud believes snacks. Our little guy is a champion lap sitter, alternating between the two of us every time he thinks of it.  Bud is not comfortable enough to hold him a lot now, so Izzy had to poop on the bathroom rug in protest. Had to be deliberate, since he doesn’t have accidents, just occasional “on purposes” to make his point.

All in the Family

I preceded my husband into nursing by several years.  I trained as an acute hemodialysis nurse and found myself suited to the work, enjoying the challenge and autonomy.  Acute dialysis patients receive their care in hospital, going to outpatient dialysis centers when they are well.  Naturally, patients on dialysis are not immune to health care problems experienced by the the rest of us.  Unfortunately, they may be more complicated. Hubby’s early career was in the oilfield.  Due to economic changes,  he saw the writing on the wall and realized he’d need to retrain.  He made the difficult decision to go to nursing school.

I’d trained and worked with many nurses coming from the oilfield. I knew Bud would do well. Like them, he was smart, technically savvy, accustomed to long hours, motivated, and happy to be out of the elements.  Comfortable with exchanging exposure to mud and grease for bodily fluids,  most did really well in acute hemodialysis, the intensive care unit, and the emergency room. 

Since I was in hemodialysis and Bud worked on a Physical Rehabilitation Unit, we shared many patients. Of course, it didn’t take patients long to ask about our link.  I am of a talkative nature, warm and friendly, greeting each patient by name as they arrived. Bud is friendly, but reserved. Hemodialysis is a typically a four hour treatment, so if patients felt like visiting, there was plenty of time for that.  One grumpy patient must have wished I’d hush.  When she got back to Bud’s floor, she asked him. “Is that your wife working down there in dialysis?”

“Sure is,” he admitted.  “Did she take good care of you?”

“Yeah.” She admitted. “But she talks too much! And ever’ time I go to sleep she comes over and gits my blood pressure.”

“Well, I guess you better tell her she talks too much, but you do know she has to take your blood pressure every fifteen minutes, don’t you?”

The next time she came to me, I greeted her like always.  “Good morning, Mrs. Smith.(not her name) Let me get you all settled in. Now you know I have to get your blood pressure every fifteen minutes, but I’ll try to keep quiet and let you get a good nap.  I know I talk too much.”.

“You shore do.” she said.  “Now, put a pillow behind my back, git me another blanket, a cuppa ice an’ switch that TV to “Price is Right,” Turn off that light.” With this, she nodded off.  I didn’t wake her if I could help it.

Bud greeted her when she returned to his care.  “How are you? Mrs. Smith.  Did your treatment go okay today?”

“Yeah, but they keep it like a freezer down there.  Git me some blankets an’ a cuppa coffee.” She snapped.”

“Yes ma’am, as soon as I get your vital signs. He got to work. 

“Is that all y’all Betheas can do? Talk and git my pressure.  Git me some blankets.” He did. I was happy for him.

Help! I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up!

My husband I are both retired RNs so we frequently spot errors in commercials.  The other evening, one of those frequent “Help, I’ve fallen and can’t get up!” commercials came on.

Bud watched the poor woman intently for a moment and said, “I know damn good and well she didn’t fall.  She didn’t piss her pants.”

He knows whereof he speaks, having worked on a physical rehab floor for more than twenty years.

Mother?

We never stop wanting our mothers. That is probably our first and last longing. When I cared for patients in times of pain and need, they often called out for their mother’s comfort. We want out mothers when we are giving birth, traumatized by pain or events, and at the moment of death. Many times I have held the hand of elderly patients whose mothers had to have been long dead and had the patient call me “Mother.” I never corrected them. Who am I to say it wasn’t their mother they saw as they moved on.

Warm Welcome

The best part of being a nurse was getting to know the patients.  Most days brought a surprise.  Late one afternoon I was hurrying to return a patient to his room after a treatment.  I helped him into his chair, wrapped him in a blanket, and zipped down the hall.  As always, I was in a bit of a hurry to get home to my children. I wheeled him into what I thought was his room only to find the bed already occupied by a little old lady. “Oh excuse me Ma’am. Wrong room!” I apologized.

“Just bring him right on in, Honey. I’ve been here quite a while!” We all got a good laugh out of that.

Hint for anyone in hospital. Always ask that your wheelchair seat be covered and be wrapped in a blanket when you leave your room. Wheel chair seats can be soiled and those halls get cold.

Uh Oh!

I used to moonlight at an urgent care clinic. Mother called me at my regular RN job one day to complain of an earache. Like I always do when people ask advice, I recommended she see a doctor. She decided to go to the urgent care clinic where I sometimes worked. I called to speak to my friend, Judy, who was working that day. I asked her to surprise Mother by telling her she had to have a full internal pelvic exam. She knew Mother, and was delighted to pull a little trick on her. Sure enough, she showed Mother to the OB/GYN exam room, telling her to prepare for a full exam. Naturally, Mother was stunned, protesting she only had an earache. Of course, my friend quickly gave the joke up.

They turned the tables on me. Judy, the nurse called me. “Linda, your mom was so shocked she fell and her head. She’s gonna have to have stitches. You are gonna have to come see about her.”

“Oh my God, I never dreamed that would happen! Let me get someone to cover for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can. At that, They started laughing. The last laugh was on me.

Death by Bed Bath

It’s a good thing people are harder to kill than I thought in my nursing student days.  In my first few weeks, I thought I’d killed several.  My first great scare was in my first day on a clinical unit.  I was assigned to give a bed bath to a poor old lady who’d had a leg amputation.  I did NOT want to give that woman, or any patient for that matter, a bath in the bed or otherwise.  Of course we’d practiced bed baths in the lab till we were sick of it.  I dreaded clinical that day, knowing bed bathing would not be put off any longer.  I gathered my supplies, a bed pad, two sheets, a mattress cover, four bath cloths, four towels and a blanket.  In the room I introduced myself to the patient and bumbled around till I came up with gloves, a basin of warm water, soap, toothbrush, tooth paste, mouthwash, and lotion.  God forbid, I was expected to do mouth care, too.

Done properly, a bed bath and bed change can be accomplished in minutes.  I believe I probably tormented that poor woman the better part of two hours.  I won’t bore you with the details but I slopped water all over the patient, the bed, myself, and the floor before I was finally through.  I left her wet, uncovered, and freezing, I am sure.  Finally I labored long enough to get her in a clean gown and do mouth care.  I was so relieved to be through when she looked at me with sad eyes and said.  “You put my gown on inside out.”

Sure enough, it was.  Hopefully I suggested, “You don’t want me to change it, do you?”

“Yes.” she moaned.

I wanted to argue, but knew I had it to do.  I worked till I got it fixed, but snatched her IV out in the process.  I hadn’t gotten to the point I could start IVs, so my nursing instructor had to do it.  She was not happy.

Not long after I escaped from her room, her family returned.  The doctor made rounds with the head nurse. They all came came out with their heads together.  I was sure they were all discussing the horrible bath I’d given.  I had no idea they’d be able to tell.  I was mortified. Fortunately, that was not the problem, but it was an awful day.