This past Saturday was my first day on the regular pediatrics unit. Didn't make much of a difference since I spent most of my time down near PICU. Its quieter down there and the nurses are nice. I picked up my patient the Friday before. Seizure disorders! Not a topic I am good at but I figured if I picked it I would have to learn about it. Hilarious story: there was this nurse there, she worked Saturday two, woman was as white and blond and blue eyed (well I have green eyes) as I am and was talking like she came from "the block". Not saying this to be racist or anything, it was almost like she was ripped out of some movie. Like in Scrubs where Carla and Laverne try to tell JD you can't give ghetto attitude unless you are a minority in a bad movie. It was TOTALLY how she talked. And the woman was an RN! She sounded so unprofessional and uneducated. Part of coming off as a professional is your speaking abilities, I would have asked for a change of nurse if she had been mine. And she was LOUD. Really really loud and the things that came out of her mouth loudly were so wrong. I was afraid to say anything, lest she jump my ass with her nine in the alley.
Day 75: I was at the hospital at 0645 all bright eyed and bushy tailed (if you know me you are probably laughing hysterically at that comment). NONE of the day shift nurses were there yet, so we stood around with our fingers up our noses waiting for morning report in SBAR format. Look how professional I am getting! Anyways, my patient was not as bad off as her diagnosis sounded. She was a 10 month old cutie, that was eating eggs with her mama when I came in to do her vitals. So since she was doing well the nurse I was following for the day asked me to help her with this 18 month old who was in the hospital by himself, sick, because his whole family had what he had, and couldn't take care of him. So it was my job to bounce between the two, keeping him occupied and trying to get him to eat and drink something. I got him to eat a cracker and drink about an ounce, but his IV was taking away his desire to drink. He didn't feel well and you could tell. I would play with him, but mostly he just wanted me to sit and rock him. I had a feeling that this much contact was going to get me sick. I washed and washed my hands that day. He was discharged later in the morning. His mother who didn't look so hot came and got him, and my little patient was discharged later that afternoon. So I decided to help one of the other girls (I am going to call her Scion, cause that is what she drives) in my group with her patients. Not like we could do much since she was in PICU and her nurse wasn't letting her do anything, but watching was still fun. Scion had two patients, a 12 month old boy who's mother clearly didn't care about him. He had ringworm and something I had never heard of...its a disease that is the opposite of diabetes. I forgot what the intern called it, but I never knew you could have such a thing. Anyways, that poor baby was miserable and just wanted love from his mommy. The other patient she had was this nine week old girl with true apnea...such a cutie. The little one gave Scion and I heart attack when her nurse walked away to get some medication and the nine week old decided to start crying with no sound and stopped breathing. Her O2 sat went from 100% to 75% in seconds, she went from pink and peachy, to a hideous gray-purple color in two seconds. Scion ran to get a nurse, no one was at the PICU station, I choked and tried to adjust her O2 mask, but neither of us knew what to do! All that training and we got clear the airway...I felt like a retard afterward. But the baby was having apnea spell and recovered as soon as my nurse came in and helped fix the O2. I don't which makes you feel worse in an emergency: knowing you panicked or having a brain fart. The respiratory therapist was called in and told she needed to correct the baby's O2 get up because what she had was not working. By the end of the day the baby was sleeping peacefully and our brains were fried.
I woke up the next morning after being out all night with friends, by the way From Paris With Love is pretty good, feeling like crap. I figured it was being out and having drinks, but the worse I got the more I knew I wasn't reeling from a calm night out. Stomach Flu!!!! I got from my little one! So day 76 was spent dying on the sofa, trying not to toss my cookies. Amy and Lucy brought me popsicles and Gatorade. I ate one popsicle and got the most horrify pain in the left side of my jaw and face. I couldn't get rid of it so....I went to the ER. Boo. They told me it might be an infection, so they gave me antibiotics and told me to follow up with the dentist.
Day 77 was spent slogging through a quiz, that in my drug induced state I probably failed. It is hard to do calculations when you don't feel well and your mind is befuddled by Motrin. Prof Mom said I looked like death and sent me home. I had to go to the dentist though. He said the pain was caused by my bite being off from a large crown, so he shaved it down. If that doesn't get rid of the pain, then I need a root canal. Oh joy. Jeremy is no longer allowed to deploy.
Day 78: First test of the semester! Once again in a medication induced slog while studying. Studying for a test and the flu do not mix. So I slogged through the test. I'll be overjoyed if I passed. I have already been told I look like poo today, thanks Prof CSI. I feel like it too, but I can't go home cause Dr. Turnin' won't count my homework if I am not in class. So I will slog off to class.
I just wanted to shout out to Scion and I'll call her Chuck (cause we aren't suppose to call her bf that), for the great evening out! Had fun! Next time I start talking so much just tell me to shut-up! We need to do it again.
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