11E Thanksgivukah

Feast.  11/28/2013

An RN Thanksgivukkah!

Chanukah,the holiday celebrating the victory of the Jewish people in their fight to practice their religion and traditions; Thanksgiving; with a similar type of thanks  came together on one day. This occasion was made memorable for me, not only because of the rare occurrence of this once in lifetime holiday combo, but it occurred in my milestone year, my first thanksgiving and my first Chanuka as a nurse. The way to show thanks for feeling free to practice religion is by actually practicing it.I marked some of my thanks towards God for reaching my novice state, by practicing my nursing expertise, all while celebrating the holiday and keeping my traditions.

Aside for the perk of earning overtime, celebrating this doubly monumental holidays on a unit tending to call bells and patient needs, does blow.
Sleeping in, enjoying hot coffee with mama's Chanukah cheese pastries with my frat house/ siblings, participating in my family's potluck Thanksgivukka party and it's mouthwatering delicacies, does sound way more appealing than leaking ostomies, and beeping IV pumps.
We celebrated on my unit with our very own potluck. I made the Chanukah contributions with doughnuts, muffins and chocolate coins while some others contributed pies, turkeys,and snacks. We sat around, in our usual green attire, pockets stuffed with our usual  saline flushes and alcohol swabs. Most of us managed to swallow 3 or more mouthfuls before a medication was due or a call bell rang end of our chewing time. It was almost as if our supply room, transformed into our makeshift dining room, was that haven, where for a few milliseconds we could forget our endless responsibilities and the sorrowful states of the individuals under our care, and provided a slight version of the holiday spirit being celebrated outside the hospital walls.

One of our Jewish patients, was elated to be going home for Chanuka and to be able to properly light his menorah with real candles, he graciously added an electric menorah to our 11E stash of Chanuka decorations. Even in the dark hallways of illness, we managed to hang sparkly decorations, quiet celebrations, and a beacon of the holy Chanukah light.

To be truly thankful, isn't just by eating heavenly delicacies, playing with dreidels and watching football games, but also by doing actions that show true thanks for being able to live by our traditions freely. We lit that menorah on our unit, decorated the unit, and allowed those people cuffed to our iv lines and heart monitors during the holiday to attain some semblance of the holiday spirit. TO be thankful for the light isn't just to savor it, but to share it.

   The food was delicious an company was divine.  Sitting around the food and enjoying my minor version of festivities all while feeling slightly left out of my own family's holiday celebrations with its mouthwatering menus; I can only think how grateful I am to be healthy and be the one caring rather than the one being cared for.

A 12.5 Hour Purpose

In 12 hours one can consume 3 meals and several snacks, wish loved ones a good day and come back and discuss the events of the day gone by. 
In 12 hours many can sign off on big deals, open and close up a shop, and travel across town and return.
In a 12 hour day a child goes off to school, spends the day, comes home, does homework, and heads to bed.

12 hours is quite some time; 12 hours is 720 minutes, 43,200 seconds.

 For me 12 hours, is a work day; it often includes one meal,  multiple medication dosages, and mostly running about trying to maintain the health and lives of those under my care. 12 hours seems so long, but often feels not long enough to provide all the care I want for my patients.
It takes not even one hour of introductions to the human being under my care and most of their life history and intimate details are revealed to me.
In that first hour my nurse brain takes immediate action. Who is this under my care? What is the health situation? What are the presenting signs and symptoms? What should and can I do during these 12 hours to make that situation even slightly better than the previous 12 hours?

But as the first hour drifts by like a blink of an eye the next few hours roll by almost as fast and I often don't get to watch the hours on the clock go by unless I'm tallying up my intakes and outputs or configuring the scheduling of my meds to cluster my care.

In those 12 hours my patients may progress or regress. They may upgrade from bedrest to chairfast, from stepdown status to regular room status.  These long hours often times are not long enough for me to provide both physical care and emotional care to my patients.

12 full hours of my work day, are spent dedicating every ounce of my brains, physical strength, knowledge and emotional abilities to improve the well being of another person.
Although my day essentially starts consists of 12.5 work hours, my 8-8:30 shift is prefaced by a lengthy train ride and gym workout.  Although my shift rarely ends what the night staff take over, as I often stay for hours beyond documenting the events of my day and doing just one more thing before I leave, those 12 hours are solely focused on the needs of those under my care.

My connection to the 12.5 hour day does not disappear once I leave the hospital doors. As I daydream on my ride home, or when my head finally reaches my pillow, my thoughts are on my 12 hour day. How did I do? How can I work better or more efficiently? What did I forget? It is either my neurotic nurse behavior, nurse instincts, or just me being a typical novice; that I often spend the first few minutes at home texting the night staff to double check something or another.
However, as I will look back at my days, my weeks, and my life I know that the 12 hours I spent on my shifts were hours well spent. These hours consisted if me caring, me thinking, me moving, me learning, and me attempting to help others simultaneously to my becoming a stronger, better and more constructive human being. Most individuals spend 12 hours of their day performing multiple tasks and have multiple purposes. My 12 hours on the unit are uni-focal: to optimize  and maintain the health level of those under my care. I spend those 12 hours with a sense of purpose, and with a hope of touching others lives and with a desire to make a difference. 

Happy Hour with my Green Team

Dreams of a Novice

I want.

I want to tend to your every need and concern.
I want to give your meds in time.
I want to sit and chat; get to know you.
I want to  have the answers to all the questions you ask.
I want to make you comfortable.
I want to have time use my whole lunch break for relaxation and recharge my energy for the rest of my care for you.
I want to answer your call bell as soon a you ring.
I want to cross off those tasks on my endless to-do list in a timely manner.
I want you to live a pain free healthy life.

But I can't

I can't because there aren't enough hours in the day.
I can't because I'm often called to endless numbers of tasks.
I can't because your neighbor next door has a life threatening condition in need of my attention at that exact second.
I can't because I must chart, lest I forget important info.
I can't because I've got only 2 hands. 2 feet and 1 head.
I can't because I'm new and often task oriented.
I can't because even years of experience won't give me all the answers.
I can't because I'm not God.


I can.

I can try my very best.
I can accept an occasional constructive criticism.
I can receive reminders to follow up and research your questions.
I can learn from my mistakes.
I can get more organized so I can save some time to sit and get to know you as a person.
I can get better and more knowledgeable each day.
I can ask for help.
I can see you for the individual human being you are.
I can care for you with all my heart and endless devotion.

I hope.

I hope to convert some of my "wants"and "can'ts"' into 'I Cans"

Cups and tray tables thrown my way.

True story. 

The cups, along with many other contents residing on the beside tray were thrown my way just as I, a battered, hungry, frizz-headed, overworked, yet still energetic nurse toiled to untangle a patient from his tubing mess.

He wasn't mad at me per say, but at his situation, and I can't blame him. I wouldn't want be a patient either. It is tough stuff having someone poke and prod, tell u when to eat, ask you how much and what time you peed, and make you walk and breath on other's commands. 

As nurses we toil all day, we run from room to room,always in a rush to get care done. Sometimes we are so preoccupied with the clinical aspect that we forget that behind those drains and IV tubing, is a human being. Often these human beings are older, probably wiser, have life histories and experiences that have shaped them into something more significant than a room number with a diagnosis. These people with a whole life behind them are suddenly succumbed to our rules, and dependent on us for their daily care.

That tray table thrown my way, was my kick-in-the-butt reminder, of the soul and feelings of the human being behind the hospital gown, monitors, and IV tubing entanglement.