Some Patients require Patience
Recently at work, I took care of quite the character of an old man. He'd been in the hospital for about a month, which is never good for sanity, let alone senility.
He knew who he was, where he was, what season it was, who was president, who was going to be president, etc. but something was still off.
He told me rather chipperly that the doc said he was getting blood today.
But the next time I went into his room (which was not infrequent. He had about 10 pills, and only took them if halved or quartered, and only 2-3 pieces at a time, so I basically lived in his room.), he told me he felt weak.
"Well, you are anemic. You need blood."
"I do?"
"Yes. That's why you're getting blood today."
"I am?"
"Yes"
"But I feel sick."
"Well, it looks like you might have pneumonia."
[wide-eyes] "I have pneumonia!?"
"Probably, yes. You'll notice you're coughing up some gunk out of your lungs." [I didn't bring up the xrays. TMI for this guy]
"Ah."
I was doing my physical assessment on him while I was talking, and at this point had reached his feet, which I noticed were so dry that they were flaking off dead skin. Not really wanting a shower of epidermal cells, I took some lotion from the counter and rubbed some emollient on his feet and legs. He declared I was the best nurse ever.
I didn't tell him that so far, all I had done could be done by a nursing assistant.
Later that day, he called for me (by shouting "Nurse!") and when I went to check on him, he declared, "I'm choking to death on pneumonia."
I had my doubts. If you're shouting and cussing at your nurse, you are NOT choking. And let's leave death out of the picture.
He knew who he was, where he was, what season it was, who was president, who was going to be president, etc. but something was still off.
He told me rather chipperly that the doc said he was getting blood today.
But the next time I went into his room (which was not infrequent. He had about 10 pills, and only took them if halved or quartered, and only 2-3 pieces at a time, so I basically lived in his room.), he told me he felt weak.
"Well, you are anemic. You need blood."
"I do?"
"Yes. That's why you're getting blood today."
"I am?"
"Yes"
"But I feel sick."
"Well, it looks like you might have pneumonia."
[wide-eyes] "I have pneumonia!?"
"Probably, yes. You'll notice you're coughing up some gunk out of your lungs." [I didn't bring up the xrays. TMI for this guy]
"Ah."
I was doing my physical assessment on him while I was talking, and at this point had reached his feet, which I noticed were so dry that they were flaking off dead skin. Not really wanting a shower of epidermal cells, I took some lotion from the counter and rubbed some emollient on his feet and legs. He declared I was the best nurse ever.
I didn't tell him that so far, all I had done could be done by a nursing assistant.
Later that day, he called for me (by shouting "Nurse!") and when I went to check on him, he declared, "I'm choking to death on pneumonia."
I had my doubts. If you're shouting and cussing at your nurse, you are NOT choking. And let's leave death out of the picture.
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