A break. Hooray.

Well, I realize it's been a while since I wrote, and I'm sorry about that. Things have been C-R-A-Z-Y!! P-cubed has been going fine. Lots of poop and vomit and urine and other yummy stuff that I'm now intimately acquainted with how to clean. No, that is NOT a complaint. Just information. Ahem. I guess the biggest thing for me is that last Thursday I gave medication for the very first time. It was only by mouth (PO if you're a nursing student. It means 'per os'). But, it was really fun to study the MAR (Medication Administration Report, I think) and make sure I was giving the right dose at the right time via the right route to the right patient for the right reason. Be thankful your nurses do this!! It was nice. I also got to see a REALLY cool procedure. Did you know you can see the back of the heart through the esophagus? You can. And it's beautiful.

In other news, Nurse Rockstar gave us a test yesterday. It was on the heart, pancreas, liver, and gall bladder. Yipee! I think I did just fine. I am having a sever drought of motivation right now. Maybe it's because we only have FOUR weeks of school left, or maybe it's just because I'm tired, or maybe (and this is probably it, in all honesty) it's because it's SO pretty outside! I just wanna go out and play with my sweet kiddos/cheerleaders!! At any rate, we'll probably get our tests back tomorrow, and, while I do want to get a good grade, I feel like I did what I could. We'll, um, see how it goes.

Coming up, we have something called clinical seminar for P-cubed. I'm not sure what that is. In Patho, we have hormones up next. Now THAT will be fun. Hormones are REALLY cool because they make you think, um, like a nurse. 'If this substance is released, what can I expect to see in my body?' Conversely, 'If I have these symptoms, what substance (hormone) is likely being released?' It's like trying to solve a puzzle. Sweet!

I'll keep you posted.

The one that was hard to write.

Hello again!

Sorry it's been so very long since my last post. I just realized I never even posted since our first clinical. Wow. Things have been busy! As I write, I have two clinical days, two patho tests, and ALL of my semester's validations under my belt...and it feels GOOD! Um, where to start?

Clinical has been both fun and exciting. (And scary at first!) But, my first day I was blessed with the coolest girl, Meg, who is 2 semesters ahead of me in Harding's nursing program. We were inadvertantly assigned to the same patient. At first, I thought I would have to switch to a new patient, but we soon realized that we needed to 'attempt' completely different skills, so we decided to work together. And I'm SO glad! It was so great that first day just to be in the room with a more experienced student. It gave me that extra boost of confidence to really try out my skills. She also showed me basic things like where all the supplies were kept and how to work the computer system. Meg, wherever you are, you're the bomb diggity!

On the second clinical day, there were no advanced HU students with us, so I was on my own. And it went great. I spent my day giving bed baths and bedside assessments. Now, this may not seem like a great deal of fun, and it really wasn't. BUT, it made me a better nurse. I got those experiences under my belt. And someday when I'm an RN and all the techs are busy, I won't balk at giving the bed bath myself. Also, a little shout out to the RN's of 2North! They are simply amazing. Kind, caring, and with the heart of a teacher. For the rest of my life, when I have a nursing student come work on my floor, I will keep your kindness in mind and do all that I can to help that student and teach her. You have been amazing.

Then, came sadness.

(Family members, you may want to stop reading here.)

Thursday, after clinical, I received a phone call from Handsome Kenny that Grandmother Robertson, a graceful, elegant woman of 96 years, was in the hospital. This news wasn't particularly alarming, because she had been in and out of the hospital many times over the past couple of years. I ate lunch with my clinical group (which has become a Thursday tradition) and headed back over to the hospital. When I walked in the room, I knew right away that things were not good. You know, I have put a lot of thought, actually, into what I would do when I knew a patient was not going to have a good outcome. You know? You have to be ready for those things as a nurse. And as a nursing student, I have learned quite a bit about medical signs and symptoms and how to reach out to a patient's family. But nothing had prepared me for being a nursing student standing in the room with a family member who was, well, on the point of death. When I walked in, I saw immediately that Grandmother's hands were blue. We read about cyanosis, a condition that is caused when not enough oxygen is perfusing to the tissue of extremities. The body actually causes this...it 'shunts' blood away from those extremities towards the vital organs. It's a beautiful defense system that God gave us. What's a missing toe if our heart is still working, right? Anyways, this was my first time to not just read about cyanosis, but to see it. I was not ready. Her fingers were blue. Her nose was blue. Her lips were even darker. It alarmed me, but I tried to hide it as best I could. Soon, I could see Grandmother using her accessory muscles to breathe. Again, we read about accessory muscles all the time. But seeing it was so different from what I expected. The nurses were talking about lab values and pH levels, and I understood all of it, but it frightened me because I knew that they all pointed towards an unhappy ending. As I stood by her head, the nurses left. I was watching her accessory muscles as she breathed, and then, all of a sudden, those muscles quit working. It took me a second to realize that this was it. It was happening. I told Kenny to get the nurse, but he (or I, really) wasn't convinced that she wasn't breathing. Quickly, though, I knew I was right, and I raced into the hall yelling for a nurse. She came quickly and confirmed what I already knew to be the truth: Grandmother was gone. She had left us. It was a hard, hard day.

What I take from this experience, though, is that what you read about in a book and what that looks like in real life are two different things. And that's okay. Also, I learned that I can keep my cool when I'm frightened. Finally, and most importantly, I learned what it looks like to die with grace and dignity. Those nurses knew what was going on, but they did not show fear. We exchanged meaningful looks, looks that communicated the gravity of the situation, but neither they nor I shared that fear with the family. And I appreciate their discretion. I spent a couple of days being upset that they chose not to tell the family members what they knew was happening. But the truth is that I made the same choice. I learned from them that day. And the next time I'm in the room with a dying patient, I will see Grandmother lying in that bed, and I will be reminded to give that patient grace and dignity to the very best of my ability. Because that patient may be somebody's Grandmother too.

Grandmother is up in heaven pestering Grandaddy Robertson, so she's doing just fine. We all miss her, but we are happy for her. People have reached out to the family in ways that I never even would have considered. Bringing us food, babysitting our children, even providing us with paper cups, plates, and napkins so no one has to wash dishes. I feel so loved and blessed. And I will definitely pay it forward. Because that is exactly what Grandmother would have done. She was one of a kind.

And now, it's Monday evening of spring break week. My family and I are about to head over to my in-laws' house for one final meal before all the extended family goes back to their various residential locations. As for me, well, I suppose that I will try to get some studying in this week. And for some reason I have the compulsion to paint a room. I think it would be cathartic. We'll see if I do it or not. Either way, I'm ready to get back to the hospital, shake out the jitters, and get back to normal.

Talk to you soon.

Angie