ixchel, BSN, RN 43,755 Views
Joined Jun 3, '11.
Posts: 5,158 (75% Liked)
From loony tunes, to total inadequacies, this week was ... unusual. Certainly plenty to learn. I actually had a much bigger list and realized I was a bit *too* specific with some details. Don't want to anger the HIPAA gods!
That aside, I got my fair share of unstable people and psych consult-worthy (and maybe law enforcement worthy) people. Good times....
Flipping back to days this coming week, and only this week. I hate days. Expect Grumpy ixchel for the next several days. You've been warned! [emoji5]️
This past week, I have learned:
Biopsy was negative! And I'm surprised, because two different providers told me to expect something abnormal. Trust me - it's a happy surprise!
Esme is back!
Being on dayshift this week makes me want to cry. Also, there is no night shift jetlag/hangover when you stay up all night every night. Apparently I do better without all the sunshine.
Using a little creativity to bring a patient a small bit of joy after a week in the hospital from sepsis can really fill the heart. All it took was brewing some fresh iced tea.
"Roadkill", in rural poor slang, means cigarettes in public ashtrays that have enough left you can pull them out and finish smoking the rest.
I have met the creepiest man on the planet. I swear to God he killed his mom the night before he was admitted, and I'm pretty sure every single morning he dosed himself with different meds to have different legit symptoms to keep him in the hospital. By the way, being hospitalized is probably a great alibi.
There is a certain look that a terminally ill total dependent care patient gets on their face when you can tell they're only full code because their family insists. I wish I never noticed that exists. When you get them care that clearly makes them uncomfortable they get that look and all I want to do is apologize and promise I'll never cause them pain or discomfort again.
Expecting short term rehab because your driveway is snowed in is totes legit, yo.
If you are wondering why a medication that you get has increased in price, perhaps it's because their promotional brochure has started to include videos that can be played in English and in Spanish and is in full-color stuck in the middle of an actual pamphlet. God bless the pharmaceutical industry. (As much as I hate to link Vanity Fair, some of this is alarming. Deadly Medicine | Vanity Fair)
Lantus still smells as bad as it did the last time I broke a bottle of it.
If you feel your heart heavy after a shift because a patient situation was handled so horribly wrong, your hospital's patient advocate will enjoy hearing from you. You will also be able to go home and sleep knowing its in the hands of the person who is paid to solely make things better for the patient. If, as an RN, I opt for a 9-5, that's a job I could absolutely love.
I have once again witnessed how hard a body will fight to live. I'm sad for the circumstances with everything that went wrong, but honestly remain enamored by how impressive bodies really are. Newbies, remember this - the body wants to live. Let that truth steady your hand.
I actually found myself incredibly angry at EMTALA. It had good intentions, but now it can justify the non-emergent people pulling vitally needed staff away from the critically ill, leading to malpractice and negligence from severe lack of resources to handle the sudden influx of overflow.
So, what have you learned?
Duran Duran - Hungry Like The Wolf - YouTube
(But those lips, though. [emoji15])
Your info at the top, formatted in a more unique way than a list formatted to the left.
Personal Statement, Profile, whatever you want to call it
I am the most amazing person on the planet (be sure to list qualities, don't copy and paste that lol) and I'm looking for (paraphrase of this job described awesomely) to (satisfy life goal)
Relevant jobs, 19xx-2016
On this job, I (buzz buzz buzz). Skills used included (buzz buzz buzz).
(Lather, rinse, repeat, PRN)
Best online trade school on the planet, ADN/BSN, 20xx
Description of what you gained, if you feel like adding it
Certifications and Licenses
Registered Nurse, CA, 2015-2017
All the stuff you did with buzz words
Best Nurse EVAHHHHH!, 2016
Qualifications needed to get that award
The letter obviously needs a header. I'm not going to even try to format it right here. I have a template that allows for including a centered tiny photo at the very top. I LOVE to use this template. It makes it stand out and is memorable. You have no idea how many times I've heard, "ohhhh you're the one with the adorable photo!!!" (It's me with my little one, both of us smiling giant smiles.) Anyway, right align your info. If your email address turns blue with a line, get rid of it! This is ugly!
Left align the facility's info.
Center the date.
Left align the rest.
Dear Hiring Manager:
First paragraph - state some strong qualities. State that the job listing caught your eye. State a small quip about a news article, or something small you enjoyed on their site. State that you're very interested in being part of their team.
2nd paragraph - state things about yourself that make you awesome, but be slightly humble. You are introducing yourself here. You need to tell them something incredibly unique and interesting about yourself, if you have something to share. This is where you make them want to meet you.
Paragraph 3 - share why they are a perfect fit for you. This is usually where I throw the mission statement as it applies to me, or I'll pick my favorite value and share how I exemplify it.
Closing - as you can see, I'm a perfect match for your organization. Yada yada yada.
In roughly 1970, my grandmother was married to a man who had begun to sexually abuse his daughters, my mom and aunt. At that time, my mom was 4, my aunt was 10. My mom was the first to break the silence. This wasn't talked about at that time. It was scandalous and the abused wives and daughters would be the ones to be made into villains. Grandma threatened George (bio grandfather), telling him that there would be a world of hurt if he did that again.
She became an LPN. She learned the abuse continued, but it had been a couple of years. She realized she was helpless to raise 4 children on an LPN wage. She vowed to leave him, just not yet. No one would take in a single mom with 4 kids and small paycheck. She went back to school, became an RN, and then she left. She took him to court. Her sons took his side. She was devastated by that, but she kept going. Her daughters were protected from him, but not without being terribly damaged. And, not without being required to testify against him, on a witness stand, in the judgmental eyes of the courtroom (no pun intended).
At the beginning of 1980, when my mom was 13, I was conceived. Somehow she had internalized the idea that sex was the way to be liked by others. She never learned strength, or to value herself. My father was 15. At the time she got pregnant, Grandma married the man I call Grandpa. He is a dignified man who lives with pride, patriotism, and all of the values that a man who matured in the 50s "should" have - respect, duty, discipline, intelligence, honor. The discipline part of him scared my mom, so she fled to where she knew she wouldn't have to face the reality of her situation - to FL to live with her former abuser.
No one "back home" knew she was pregnant. Not her mom, not my father. Grandma found out about me when, after we'd been in an accident, she was contacted as "next of kin". My father, I found after a desperate feeling of needing to discover my heritage. When I was 19. And he was 35.
After notification to Grandma by the hospital, my mom's step mom, a paranoid schizophrenic woman, had had escalation of her paranoid behaviors. This reached a climax when she took a machete and tried to kill my mom with it, all because she ran out of hot water taking a shower. My mom couldn't safely get out with me, so she left me, at about 18-20 months old, and ran for help. She banged on the doors of neighbors, one by one, and no one would answer. A good while later, she found someone who would. The police came, found me in a room locked from the inside. The next day, George slipped my mom bus passes, said its just not working out. We came home.
After I was 8, my mom, tired of her restrictive rules living with her mom again (she was 22 at the time), found a ticket out - a man she'd just met proposed a whirlwind marriage. She said yes, and she gained independence. We moved to a new school district. Every time I rode the bus home, I'd walk under the window of our apartment. There he would be, waiting. Daily, I was beaten. The worst of it came one day when I took a crayon box to school, and it was in my backpack when I came home. Then that night, my mom snuck into my room, which woke me up. She slept on my floor. I didn't understand why she wouldn't tell me what happened. To this day she hasn't told me. I never saw him or our apartment again.
It was at this time that her addiction began. And instead of being nurturer, she became abuser. I never told her about her husband abusing me. I felt like I had to protect her from that information. We spent months homeless at this time. Who knows how long it was going to stay that way. My school told her she had to have a permanent address within the district. So, because she was forced to, she got us a roof to live under in an apartment complex.
In the next year, she met a man who she would stay with until I was 16. This man had a thing for little girls, too. I couldn't tell my mom. It's not that he threatened me. I just felt like I couldn't tell her. She had become mean and unpredictable. My protector was gone and I knew it. At 9 or 10 years old, I knew I was on my own.
I was 13 (1993) when I truly realized what addiction was. Cleaning her vomit and getting her into bed regularly was certainly a wake up call. I'd also reached the age she was when she got pregnant with me. Her resentment at my lack of parental responsibilities started, and grew worse over the next couple of years. It was when she made her first sobriety attempt, when I was 15, that the abuse escalated to a point that I couldn't handle anymore. She was constantly emotionally abusive, and her boyfriend was not shy about how much he loved me "as a woman". I moved out. Grandma and Grandpa took me in.
When I was 19, living on my own, I visited the health department for birth control. For the first time ever, I was asked by a nurse, "have you ever been abused?" I couldn't stop the word yes from coming out of my mouth. I told them about my mom's boyfriend. It didn't even occur to me that I should mention my mom or her husband. Her husband was a distant, neglected memory.
And, as it turns out, the human memory has an immeasurable capacity for forgetting what we do not want to remember. I can tell you this story because I know it to be true. But if you asked me to tell you literally any other thing before turning 20, I can't. I remember nothing prior to the results of the police investigation that resulted from my confession of abuse.
Btw, in the years between my grandmother's fight against abuse (mid 70s) and my reported abuse, which took place in 1990, there still were no laws in my state prohibiting sexual abuse toward minors.
So, why do the abused stay with their abusers? The abused feel they have to protect them. They feel there is no choice. And, our horrifically archaic legal system took way too long to support the end of DV and child abuse. The institution of marriage was viewed as so sacred, it would be a betrayal for a woman to step out. My grandmother was courageous to take the steps she did, knowing the scandal and undue scrutiny it would cause her. She continued to feel the sting of what she did and the choices she was forced to make for decades. In the late 90s, after having a very close relationship with my aunt, my aunt let go of repressed feelings of betrayal toward my grandmother. Wrote her the most hurtful letter imaginable, blaming her for allowing the abuse to continue. Nothing good could have come from any choice she would have made. Not only that, but abuse patterns just weren't known or understood at that time. Grandma really thought he'd stopped.
Now, as a mom, I'm terrified. I see the innocence of my kids and fear that it may be shattered. My daughter is 8, the age I first was assaulted. My son is 10, the age I was first molested, after having been homeless for about a year. I feel myself wanting to spazz on my kids when the consistently normal life they've had makes them blind to how hard life can really be. It comes from jealousy, I know. They know very little about my childhood. Heck, they barely know my family, as torn apart as it is.
My marriage sucks frequently. My husband grew up being treated like crap and never learned coping skills. So, while I feel this compulsion to overcompensate in communication and trying to understand someone else's POV, he'll hold in whatever is bothering him for days and days, until he goes into tantrum mode for a few days. We have brilliant communication skills. :\
I keep my dysfunction deep under wraps. It's there. I just keep it to myself. And my relationship with my mom is good now, but we never talk about the past.
Thank you for starting this conversation. And please, if you are in a situation that is abusive, start to plan your exit strategy. He/she may have control over your life and resources, but he/she does not have control of your thoughts. Escape begins with strategy, planning. If you struggle to find the inner strength, try, if you can, to find it for your children. I am living proof this affects multiple generations.
"Real" Nurses come in all shapes, sizes and education levels.
LTC nursing is no joke. It's exhausting and mind boggling at times.
People who don't do patient care really shouldn't be making rules. A med pass at 1500, 1800 and 2000? Why?
Not all CNAs are hard workers like I was. Some really have no business working with patients.
This week, I have learned hoarding can be a blessing. (I promise that actually is nursing related. ) Always, ALWAYS retain documentation you receive from your employer.
Recreating a timeline of events in writing to describe an emotional situation can bring those emotions to the surface again, fiercely, even if a decent amount of time has passed.
I'm so thankful to have LadyFree take over while some things in my world are getting sorted out. Woman, YOU ROCK!
LOL!! This used to happen to me all the time, although for a different reason. The patient wasn't answering the phone on purpose, because she was annoyed with the annoying family member. After the third time of "she's resting and doesn't have to answer the phone if she doesn't want to," I finally got blunt and told the family member "she said she doesn't want to talk to you and to please quit calling so she can sleep."
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