nursejackie821

I think you're overthinking this. I personally worked an average of 60 hours a week while attending nursing school and managed just fine. I worked open to close as a bartender on the weekends, evenings as a server during the week and one day a week all day at a campus student help job. Even working 3 jobs, 7 days a week most weeks, I still came out of school $17,000 in debt (granted, I wasn't exactly frugal with my money in college). My monthly loan payments are roughly $230, which, on a nurse's salary are totally manageable. Especially since it sounds like your other expenses will be minimal, even once you graduate, you will be just fine taking out loans.

Alright, so I know it's good to have options and all, but I've been accepted to 2 CRNA programs and don't know which to pick. I'm looking for any personal experiences with the two programs or personal opinions that would help make this decision easier. Minneapolis School of Anesthesia: I'm originally from Minnesota, and have family that lives near the school. The tuition is roughly $35,000 less than MTSA. Good clinical sites, this would be the "safe" choice. The students I ran into on interview day say it's a very laid back program and they all love it. 33 students per class. The downside? I was less than impressed with my interview (seems a little TOO laid back) and the school is kinda sketchy (old community center with a few classrooms), which I'm told is how they keep tuition cheaper. Cold weather. 97% pass rate, >1900 anesthesia hours Middle Tennessee School of Anesthesia: farther away from home than I've ever lived, tuition is roughly $35,000 more, and I was very impressed with my interview. They seem to have a much more rigorous and intense program with high expectations. 72 students per class. Warm weather. Masters to DNP bridge offered. Downsides are obviously a higher cost and farther distance from any sort of family support system. 83% first time pass rate, >1800 anesthesia hours Anyone with personal experience with either program or this sort of decision, please feel free to weigh in!

I guess some of us just wondered if the patient indeed had a pulse after the third round, maybe just not bounding enough to feel, or the person checking the pulse just was frantic and missed it. How do you get a pulsatile waveform without a pulse? In hindsight, it makes sense that it could have been faint and CO would have been present but insufficient (and probably not sustained) had we stopped. Thanks RN543 :)

Looking for any experience with this and/or advice as to what you would do in this situation. We were in the middle of coding a patient last night that had a working arterial line (meaning that it read accurately, flushed, and had good blood return) prior to the code. After giving 3 rounds of epi and doing a rhythm check, the patient appeared to be in a sinus rhythm, but we were unable to palpate a pulse. HOWEVER, the a-line reading on the monitor was showing a pulsatile waveform and a systolic blood pressure in the 200's (with compressions stopped, obviously). We continued on the code this way for 20 minutes until we were able to palpate a definite pulse. The family ended up withdrawing shortly after and the patient passed quickly. I realize you're supposed to treat the patient and not the monitor, but my question is: doesn't a pulsatile waveform indicate there is a pulse? Maybe it was so faint we just had to doppler it? Or was it right to carry on like this for 20 more grueling minutes?

The other day, I remember making the comment "I feel like you don't have a clue what I do on a daily basis"...the response I got was: "you take care of sick people." That answer couldn't be more right, but it also couldn't be more wrong. Here's some education for all you people that think nurses just take your blood pressure and weigh you at the doctors office or pass medications in the hospital. Maybe you'll develop a new understanding of what it's really like. I went to school for 4 years and I learn new things every day at my job, but no matter how long I do this, I will never know it all. Chances are, if you tell me your symptoms, I won't know what's wrong with you. Why? Because you're what we as critical care nurses refer to as "a walkie, talkie." Because you can walk and talk, and you're fortunate enough to not be dying this very minute. Because my patients aren't otherwise healthy people who have a cold or a broken bone. I deal with patients who are critically ill, patients whose life is supported by ventilators and drips that I'm in charge of, patients that are circling the drain for days on end. So just because I can't properly diagnose your sore throat and stuffed up nose, that does not make me "not very good" at my job. My job is not as simple as following the orders the doctor puts in the computer. The diagnosis I deal with probably aren't anything you've personally encountered or likely even heard of. My main responsibility for 12+ hours is to keep an eye on every minuscule detail of my patient's physical, mental, and emotional state and know exactly when something is about to go very wrong. Anyone who has ever stepped foot into an ICU should know that it is a far cry from a "doctors office." My patients are so sick that I am only allowed to care for one or two at a time. Why? Because I'm busy. Busy receiving patients fresh off the helicopter, giving meds, titrating drips, doing assessments, paging doctors, giving baths, getting report on a patient coming up from the ED, comforting families, drawing labs, transfusing blood, charting, doing turns and clean-ups, packing up patients to go to stat scans, prepping for procedures, holding down patients that are kicking/punching/confused, charting, writing progress notes, responding to constant alarming and beeping, cleaning up puke, checking blood sugars, facilitating family meetings, helping out my co-workers, the list never ends. If I get to pee, I'm lucky. If I get to eat, it's while watching my patient's monitor like a hawk from another room. If I get out of work on time, it's a miracle. Therefore, if YOU ever are unfortunate enough to have to spend any amount of time in an ICU either as a patient or family member, keep in mind that your nurse is busy. She isn't just chatting it up at the nurses station about her personal life despite what you might think, and if you feel like you're being ignored or aren't getting enough attention, be thankful. Why? Because that means there are patients on the unit that are much sicker and requiring a lot more TLC than you or your family member. My job as an ICU nurse is emotionally taxing and far from easy. But I do it because I get to make a difference in someone's life every single day. Every day I have the opportunity to care for people at their weakest moments. Getting someone's dying family member to open their eyes, give a thumbs up, or breathe on their own are milestones worthy of celebration where I work! Discharging patients from their ICU room after they've sustained life threatening and grim diagnoses is beyond rewarding. So even though you may hear me complain about the long hours, the scared and needy families, the doctors who just refuse to acknowledge my concerns, the stress of being pulled in a million directions for 13 hours, and the sadness of watching people die day in and day out, there is no other job on this planet that I would rather do. Maybe now you might understand why. Oh, and for the record, even though I don't know what's wrong with you, that doesn't mean I'm bad at what I do. Maybe now you understand why.