Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

Lately, the hospital work has gotten so demanding that it is incredibly discouraging to face the 12 hours ahead of me. Especially because I have become not-a-morning-person (or at least not until 9am). Anything that helps the time go either quickly or funly (yes, that's not a word, but I'm using parallel construction here) is a welcome relief. Anything that makes me feel marginally needed helps the day feel like a success. So I am proud to say that I saved a life yesterday. It was a small life. No bigger than my thumb. Despite its size, there's something definitely out-of-place (one might say it sticks out like a sore thumb . hahaha) in the moth flying the hospital hallways. You know what else sticks out like a sore thumb? A nurse erratically walking the hallway closing her hands on empty air. But by golly, I was gonna save that tiny life. Finally, with a cup and a flier on an upcoming nursing conference, I caught the little guy (or girl. I don't know moth biology) a...

My sister Rachel and I have different perspectives--like basically all the time. We had a hard time with that growing up, but the more I learn the more I realize I don't know anything [someday I hope to reach the realization that I know nothing. haha jk]. So I need to concede that she is right--that daily duties mean more than epic quests. That realization came while working with a patient whose wife was suspicious of the medical team's every action. I had been (somewhat) warned of this, and thankfully when I saw her I introduced myself as her husband's nurse (Big Win for a Small Act!). But when a lack of medical literacy led to a misunderstanding, I was unable to stand down to her anger. I didn't shout (I'm not a shouter), I didn't use a negative tone of voice; but I did question her logic and, ultimately, not acknowledge her feelings.    Side story: I am a fighter. Usually not literally. But if some threat confronts me, I will face it head-on and work to te...

And I am a person. A definitely quirky, peculiar person. God would be proud. The other day at work, I ran into one of the pulmonary nurse practitioners who had been my clinical coach when I first started working. She was wearing a neon pink/orange (maybe salmon?) top, and I remarked to her that it made her look tan. This would be perfectly fine...except she's African-American. **face palm** It didn't occur to me until later that my comment was incredibly stupid. I do dumb things, too. Yesterday I was getting impatient with the slow cooking of my stove-top frittata, so I stuck the skillet in the oven. That actually wasn't dumb; nor was the burn I got on my hand from touching the skillet handle (careless, but not dumb ). No, the dumb part was when I went to practice intubating mannikins and puncturing their epidural spaces and inserting central lines (IV catheters that are in the big veins in the femoral and subclavian area), but my hand still hurt, so I would periodic...

As a concept, death isn't that bad. It's just a marker, noting the end of life. When you are born, your spirit enters your body and you live. When you die, your spirit leaves your body. And your body rots. But you, glorious divine you, go on. The whole eternity of you  involved just a small little chunk of mortality, a short opportunity to try out flesh and bone. Imperfect though it may be, life--in a body--is pretty good. Which is exactly why most people avoid death, if possible. Why trade the flawed good of life for an unknown and pretty irreversible death? You don't, not if you can help it. Basically that's the whole purpose of the field of medicine [and nursing]. We try to figure out a way to keep you going, if you are willing and we are able. And that is precisely why two of my patients--one man and one woman--this past week faced death. My first patient no longer was willing. He'd been in the hospital for a month, and then one day decided enough was eno...

EXTRA! EXTRA! 1st-person Account of Being in Houston during Hurricane Harvey! The experience really has not been too bad. Which is kind-of why I haven't posted anything much on social media, because other stories deserve more attention. But diversity is the spice of life, so here is a not-so-scary account of riding the storm. Thursday and Friday of last week was a panic rush to grocery stores and gas stations. But I had gone grocery shopping on Wednesday, so we were okay there; we didn't even try. And Mark filled up with gas in the late evening when the lines didn't occupy the whole parking lot. So nothing much going on there. I did end up cooking a quiche in-between the normal shifts at work, so that we would have some healthy food that is still delicious to eat cold. That's it. Saturday it was raining all day; I knew things would be closed, so Mark and I basically stayed in the apartment and watched episodes of The Wire . [We're on a season that highlights t...

Once again I am in-between semesters (yay!). This calls for a trip. Except the trip involved a lot of cramming. Before I could even go, I crammed as much as possible into my brain for my semester final. Then I crammed work, meaning that I worked 2 days in a row and those days were FULL of  running around, frustration, and vows to not work again for a week [quick fulfillment tip: set simple and completely doable goals]. After work, I went with Mark to pick up his car from state inspection, and then packed for our flight early the next morning (those are actually on 2 separate days, but I don't really need to list out the schedule for y'all. and I ate dinner at 8pm and...j.k. that's enough. ) This is how you nap with bling Mark and I flew out to visit my parents in Utah early early [and I hate getting up before 4am. I prefer no movement before 7am, but as life has taught so many before, preferences and reality don't always match.], so the first activity of the tri...

All of the nurses I know are religious. That is what happens when you go to a private religious university for nursing school and then work in a cancer hospital;--if you don't have some sort of hope in a beneficent God, and in life after death, then working with cancer patients can get pretty depressing. But because of what we see every day at work, we are more likely to focus on relieving suffering than on prolonging life. Which is how I found myself praying for my patient to die. This patient, alias Bob, was on the highest oxygen flow possible without having a machine (aka ventilator) breathe for him [For those medically-minded, that means he was on high-flow oxygen 40L 100% FiO2 and ALSO had on 15L NRB mask]. Yet he was still in significant distress; he was using all of his chest and abdominal muscles to pull in more oxygen, and on top of that, he had blood constantly pouring out of his nose and mouth. He looked exhausted, agitated, and downright ghastly. After my morning...