Last weekend ended on a very odd note for me, especially as a new nurse. I had the pleasure of attempting to admit a very mentally unstable patient, complete with security escort, requiring all items that could be used as a weapon removed from the room, and having to grill my aide sitter about safety precautions - always stay near the door, do not allow the pt to come near you, hit your panic button at any violent agitation, never turn your back or allow the pt to come between you and the door, etc...
After my unsuccessful admission interview and the detailed novel of a progress note that followed my interactions with this pt, I finally got to go home. (Of course, wouldn't you know, the pt came up from the EOD 30 mins before my shift ended ) I really thought I hadn't taken the pt's particular craziness to mind much at all, but I guess I was wrong as evidenced by events later that night.
My poor husband. Apparently at 3AM, I sat up in bed, shook him violently awake, and started yelling "Code Silver! Get under the bed! Go! I'll get the door, just get under the bed!"
Then the cat jumped up on the bed, and I apparently said "Oooh, a kitty!" and shoved her under the bed.
He finally got me all the way awake, made me apologize to my cat, and then got me a drink before we laid back down again. I conked out again almost immediately, but he told me he laid awake for a while thinking about all the stuff I have been exposed to/been at risk of at work. For one of the first times in our lives, he felt a little worried about my choice of profession. I couldn't help but laugh...I guess he truly thought nursing was a busy, stressful, but *safe* profession.
Poor guy though...during clinicals he'd been awakened by me muttering that I needed to check blood sugars, needed K+ results, etc.
Anything like this happen in anyone else's relationships? I feel kinda bad for the guy.
) I really thought I hadn't taken the pt's particular craziness to mind much at all, but I guess I was wrong as evidenced by events later that night.