No title available
⁂
sheepfilms
titsay
shark vs the universe
No title available
@theartofmadeline
styofa doing anything
Xuebing Du
trying on a metaphor
dirt enthusiast
YOU ARE THE REASON
roma★
blake kathryn
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
we're not kids anymore.
Stranger Things
h
Three Goblin Art
★
seen from Iraq
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Belarus
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Latvia
seen from Iraq
seen from Türkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Israel
@ohiomandy
The blood of Jesus does not give you amnesia, but it does give you life beyond your past. I have to get to a place where I make what Jesus did for me greater than what anyone did to me.
Christine Caine (via littlethingsaboutgod)
It’s one of my theories that when people give you advice, they’re really just talking to themselves in the past.
Mark Epstein (via lazypacific)
In any given moment we have two options: to step forward into growth or to step back into safety.
Abraham Maslow (via myocardial-revival)
… those who saw a palliative care specialist stopped chemotherapy sooner, entered hospice far earlier, experienced less suffering at the end of their lives—and they lived 25 percent longer. In other words, our decision making in medicine has failed so spectacularly that we have reached the point of actively inflicting harm on patients rather than confronting the subject of mortality. If end-of-life discussions were an experimental drug, the FDA would approve it.
Atul Gawande, Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End (via shrinkrants)
Miscarriage and You
No matter your specialty, learning how to deal with miscarriage is an important part of working in healthcare. I've been on both sides of this one. 7 years of infertility finally ended. Then, I had a staff member tell me THROUGH THE FRICKIN WINDOW that my hormone levels weren't doubling and that I'd lose my baby. So there I stood, alone in a lobby full of pregnant women as the staff member slid the window closed. My 9 week old dream was gone and I still had to go through the actual miscarriage. 3 years (and one healthy baby) later, and I still haven't found the words to tell my OB/GYN how terribly her staff messed up. On the flip side, I was there while we told a woman that she had miscarried a 20+ week baby while sedated and intubated. Working in an ICU, I never thought I'd be a part of this sort of conversation. This wasn't part of our annual training. But there we were, trying to help a woman navigate her grief. Experience has taught me this: There are no easy answers. What we need at a time like this is for somebody to take the time to acknowledge that we lost a baby. Not a fetus, not a product of conception. A baby with a future has died. Mama has already thought about preschool and play dates, first dances and first kisses. That has been lost. You don't need fancy words or meaningless platitudes. Just take a moment to sit still, look her in the eye and hold her hand. Tell her you're sorry. Sit in this uncomfortable moment with her and let her ache with you.
"Just a nurse"
We met our daughter's bf finally. I scooted out of work, still in my scrubs, for lunch with the family...and the boy. He was nice enough. He asked if I worked at X hospital. I reply with a little about my job, etc. Then he asked if I knew this guy, John _______. I didn't recognize the name, so I ask what department he works in. The boy says, "Oh, he's just a nurse." I couldn't help myself. I'm sitting there in my scrubs, having just explained I AM A NURSE. He's eating food we are paying for. I said, "Just a nurse?" The slack jawed little twerp had nothing to offer as an explanation, but at least did have the wherewithal to look scared. All I could do was look at the daughter and say, "Fail!" It got slightly awkward after that. 😎
Your blog is gold!! Thanks for the follow! :)
Thank you! I'm enjoying your posts too!
It's official 😂
I am an ICU nurse. Any advice is more than welcome!
Yay! Congratulations!
A few pointers:
1. Be prepared to feel dumb for a while. It's ok. The know-it-alls scare us. They kill people. Admit your knowledge gaps and we'll work with you. 2. When you make a mistake, admit it immediately so the risk to patient safety can be minimized. Don't blame shift. Take it seriously. We'll console you and whisper about our own rookie mistakes, but you had better be DEVASTATED about it. We'll trust you more for it in the long run. 3. Type A personalities abound here. Tempers flare. That same ***** who yells over (whatever) will fight the angel of death with you and help you when you're drowning, so don't hold grudges. 4. Get a handy guide. Back in the day, I carried Kathy White's Fast Fact for Critical Care. In book form. There's an app now, but I prefer the paper version due to poor app functionality. Ask question about how meds work and why one drip is preferred over another in certain circumstances. 5. Have patience with our dreadful dark humor. Soon enough, you'll see it for the coping mechanism it is. You'll find those same people who make those terrible jokes have the utmost respect for human life. 6. Respect the RT, nurse aide, unit clerk, and housekeeper. Each and every one will save your hiney one day. 7. Remember, your coworkers should function as a knowledge resource long after you're on your own. You help clean butts and ask for advice while you're doing it. If your unit functions effectively, you'll hear frequent 'consults' like this all the time. 8. Someday, you'll know what's what. Remember this newbie feeling when another fresh face shows up on the unit.
Best of luck to you! There's nothing like ICU nursing!
Mistakes & Mercy
So there's this resident who's been an absolute &!@?# to me for a while. I don't really think she has a problem with me personally. You see, I recently accepted a new position and had a lot of haters for it. She jumped on the bandwagon. Actually, she ended up driving the darn thing. Anyway, as fate would have it, she's been working very closely with me for the past couple of weeks. As in, she's been by my side constantly. We break down cases, develop plans, and prioritize, and round. Together. (News flash: green residents can and do learn a lot from an experienced ICU nurse.) I took some small measure of pleasure in this turn of events and took the opportunity to call her on her bad behavior toward me. She acknowledged it and we've fell into a somewhat guarded rhythm. Then, she made a mistake. Not the, "OMG, I've killed somebody!" kind of mistake. More like the, "I told somebody it's going to be ok and then they died," kind of mistake. An employee we knew presented with a NSTEMI. Hesitant to undergo a cath, our resident told the employee it was a minor procedure. The cath showed severe disease. CABG. Severe hypokinesis. Balloon pump. Massive stroke. Ischemic colitis. When the time came, all the white coats had vanished. My phone rang asking to get the resident to call it. She had already been misty eyed when she thought nobody was looking. My heart sank. I knew it would suck. I've been through this so many times before. What I didn't realize was that this would be her first. Watching her, I was reminded of the first time watching my young child come to terms with death. Yet here she was, expected to perform in the midst of her own grief. I could see her weak knees. We quickly reviewed what she needed to do. Just a formality, really. But, oh the gravity of the moment. Nobody but me saw her hide in the bathroom for a mini meltdown. Then, we talked it out. Times like this, MDs and RNs aren't so different. We train and work hard to accomplish amazing things. We witness and take part in miracles every single day. We get used to it. But we never get used to things going wrong. We develop a wicked, dark sense of humor, but we never, EVER lose sight of the extraordinary value of human life. After coffee and a review of the case, I told her what every single practitioner needs to hear. Listen up, this is important. You are not God. Don't take me wrong. You may be a phenomenal MD, DO, RN, or NP who works hard to keep up with the best evidence based practice. That's our job, our passion, our calling. In spite of all that, we lose people. Ultimately, the results aren't our job. Please, put that burden down. I have a feeling this resident and I are gonna be alright.
Confession 42
I have found out in my years in the icu that death is truly NOT the saddest thing.
TRUTH
I'm interested, I just can't understand how someone who fully comprehends medical science (or any science) can still believe in any sort of religion. Do you ever think to yourself, 'why do I believe this'? Like, since religion is not based on facts at all, you literally just have to 'believe' what makes you so sure you've picked the right God or that there is one? If you had been born somewhere else you'd likely believe something else. Doesn't that tell you it's all just a social construct? :)
Really? That’s interesting, because I can’t understand why a person who clearly has very strong faith in science would hide behind a greyfaced mask when proclaiming their own beliefs.
I am not alone in my beliefs. There are TONS of medblrs out there who have strong religious faith (identify yourselves in the comments if you so please), and not just Christian. I could also name for you dozens of modern-day scientists and physicians with strong faith backgrounds, but I trust that you can use the Google machine properly.
I’m not going to delve super deep into the “fact or fiction” issue, but I will say that much of my faith is based on historical fact, as backed up by Christian, Jewish, and secular historians, so I don’t have to take the entirety of Scripture on pure faith. Knowing the history and facts helps me believe the parts that aren’t as easily “proven”. But there are also plenty of events in the Bible and in my own life that I cannot explain outside of God’s involvement.
Also just to clarify, my faith is placed in the person of Jesus Christ, not in the religion of Christianity, though I do follow many religious practices that were modeled by Jesus. As you pointed out, much of religion is based on social constructs (not to say that that’s a bad thing). I had religion long before I had a relationship with Jesus, and it left me feeling very empty.
The whole point of faith is believing in what you cannot see. Faith is a choice. But in my own life God has provided little “proofs” all along of his existence and of his provision over my life. When I pray and get a response—especially one I wasn’t expecting—that is a proof to me. When I learn about the complexity of the human body and systems in nature, that is proof to me. The fact that there are thousands of unexplored universes in just a tiny patch of dark sky blows my mind and, again, is proof to me that there is something someone beyond science.
How am I sure I’ve got the right one? Again, part of that is blind faith and part of it is based on the evidences I discussed above. I believe that the triune God of the Christian faith is true because before I met him, I was unsettled and guilty, and after I met him, I was forgiven and full of peace. When I have read about and researched other faiths, that unsettled feeling comes back. I also believe in Christianity because Jesus said that he was the only way to heaven. Now some will say that I am taking this on blind faith as well, but considering that he is the only person to have died and come back to life on his own and who has lived a sinless life, I tend to believe whatever he says.
I am a Jesus freak. That doesn't mean I have to put my education in a box on Sunday. Medicine (and every other scientific field) is the study of the orderliness of His creation. We try to cram God into a box of a few unexplained miracles, but He also dwells in the ordinary.
The fact that a few cells in an upper chamber trigger the heart to beat for a lifetime is astounding to me. Kidneys, liver, skin...even the Krebs Cycle . It's all pretty freakin' amazing. (Not exactly King James, I know) This knowledge doesn't detract from my faith. Rather, the more I learn about my preferred science (medicine), the more I am in awe. Working with patients teetering on the brink of death has only served to reinforce my faith.
My friend, old and passing, said, “There is more to life than staying alive. Don’t rescue me too much.” On his farm, twelve miles out by rough gravel roads, he is done with plowing, spraying, harvesting. But he is not done watching the sun sink below the windbreak or listening to the nighthawks above his fields. Don’t make him move to town. There is more to tragedy than dying.
A Note to His Doctor by Kevin Hadduck.
Poetry and Medicine, JAMA July 2, 2014, Vol 312, No. 1
(via medicalstate)
Deep
Helping families make the decision about when to withdraw life support was hard at first. Now I believe that sometimes death can be a natural thing
Critical Care Nurse, MI
(First Year Nurse: Wisdom, Warnings, and What I Wish I’d Known My First 100 Days on the Job, Edited by: Barbara Arnoldussen, RN, MBA)
I think the most stressful part about being a superhero would be never knowing if it was a good time to go poop.
As a nurse, I struggle with the same issue.
What if somebody codes while I’m on the crapper…?
Life and death on the porcelain throne...
In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26-year-old mother stared down
at her 6 year old son, who was dying of leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination Like any mother, she wanted her son to grow up & fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible.. The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son’s dream to come true. She took her son’ s hand and asked, ‘Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish about what you would do with your life?’ Mommy, ‘I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.’ Mom smiled back and said, ‘Let’s see if we can make your wish come true.’ Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fireman Bob, who had! a heart as big as Phoenix She explained her son’s final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her 6 year-old
son a ride around the block on a fire engine Fireman Bob said, ‘Look, we can do better than that. If you’ll have your son ready at 7 o’clock Wednesday morning, we’ll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you’ll give us his sizes, we’ll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy — one-with the emblem
of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like
we wear, and rubber boots.’ ‘They’re all manufactured right here in Phoenix , so we can get them fast.’ Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital
bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck. Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic’s’ van, and even the fire chief’s car. He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him,
so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer
than any doctor thought possible. One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone,
began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he
made his transition. The chief replied, “We can do better than that. We’ll be there in five minutes.. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system at the hospital that there is not a fire?” ‘It’s the department coming to see one of its finest members
one more time. And will you open the window to his room?’ About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived
at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy’s third floor
open window 16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy’s
room. With his mother’s permission, they hugged him and held
him and told him how much they LOVED him.
With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, ‘Chief, am I really a fireman now?’ ‘Billy, you are, and The Head Chief, Jesus,
is holding your hand,’ the chief said. With those words, Billy smiled and said, ‘I know, He’s been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing..’ He closed his eyes one last time.
Oh the tears...
