Verde

Just saying, spanish is not my first langage, sorry to all my hispanic friends.

  When a call comes into the unit that  "Labor and Delivery" needs a NICU RN and Neonatologist, you know that it may not be good.

Got one of those calls one night.  The Doc and I  ran to the Labor and Delivery unit, where they quickly ushered us into the surgical suite.  An emergency c-section was under way, and the baby was in distress.  Mom was laying on the surgical table awake and alert, scared out of her mind, Dad was at her side speakly quietly to her in spanish.

The Doc and I worked on the little infant, he came around very nicely, but did need further observation in our NICU.

As usual, I put our guest into a heated Isolete, so that I may transport him to the NICU safely. I always made a point of stopping by the mother's head so that she may see her baby, and encouraged the father to follow me to the unit.

I told mom, Baby was doing well but needed to be watched, she just nodded her head.

Dad followed me and baby out of the surgical suite and into the elavator.  This is where I proceeded to tell dad that his son was doing well.  Dad shook his head and said  "no English". I then understood that these parents did not understand me. So I racked my brain for the few phrases of high school spanish that I could remember.  I told Dad that his son was verde. (I thought I had just told Dad that his son was red or pink in color which was a good thing).  But when Dad burst into tears, I didn't understand.

When I got to the unit with my baby patient and a sobbing father, the Doc asked me what happened.

I told him that Dad doesn't understand English and I told Dad that his son was Verde.

Doc burst out laughing, but then quickly reassured the Father that his son was doing very well and was rojo or rosa in color.

"Marylou" Doc said, "you just called his son green."

Transport, Donuts and O2 Tanks

One part of my job , that I absolutely adored, was being a transport nurse.  I would go via ambulance or helicopter and take a sick patient to a hospital or pick up a patient from another hospital.  I loved being a transport nurse, my coworkers used to call me "Tinker Transport Bell" Nurse. I don't know why, but the name stuck.  Anyway, I loved being on Transport, the thrill, the control, the getting a patient somewhere safely,  the cute Parametics and EMTs , I loved it all. I remember one particular night, the EMTs and I were taking a child up to another hospital far north,via ground, ie: in an ambulance. I always rode in the back of the ambulance, with my patient, there and back.  We delivered her safely to the waiting hospital without any incidences.  But on the way home, I was in the back of the ambulance, and we took a sharp turn and one of the O2 tanks sitting on the shelf behind my head, slid out and bonked me on my head. Holy cow that hurt.  The EMTs felt so bad,  because one of them had not secured the bus in the back, before we left for home.
They felt so horrible, that they took me for donuts, since it was almost 6am anyway.  I didn't mind, I love donuts too.

9/11 Above the Ashes

I am sure that most everyone remembers exactly where they were on that fateful day.  I do, I was at home, my husband had just left for work, and I was getting ready to start my day, rest a bit and then go to work that night at the hospital. My husband and I had just returned from a 10 day road trip. We had gone to the East coast.  I was to return to work that night.  My husband called me from the car at 8:50 am and told me to turn the T.V. on. A plane hit a building in New York. What?, I thought, are they making a movie?  I quickly turned on the TV and watched in horror as the second plane hit.  I kept thinking to myself  "Are there people in those buildings?"  Horrified I called my husband crying, begging him to come home, they were unsure of  where another plane was, then the pentagon was hit.  I was sure that Chicago was going to get hit next.  My husband calmed me down and stated that he was going to stay at his office, in Chicago, until things settled down.

All those lives lost, my heart was broken.  As a Nurse, I felt like I should have been doing somthing.  I went to work that night. I was so sad.  Our NICU was in the process of building a new state of the art Nursery, and the construction company had put up a fake wall, to seperate us from the building going on.

I saw that wall and told my night crew that I am going to draw the American flag on it. I felt very patriotic and proud of our country.  The girls and I spent the whole night drawing this flag, it was very cathartic.

Then we drew little stars with all of our premie patient's names on them.

And at last we put up the saying, "Above the ashes we will rise and unite"

There were four of us nurses that night, who did this, but when the day shift came in, they felt very proud of our flag, they started adding everyones name to the little stars.

People from all over the hospital came to see our flag.  It was just a drawing, but it brought us a little closer together that night.

I will never forget that fateful day or that healing night.

Tequila, Love Husband

Have you ever had a night (or day) where, when you come home, you can't stop thinking about all the events that happened.  I had one of those nights.  It was a very long, intense, 12 hours in the NICU.
NICU stands for Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, where the most fragile sickest infants come to, in the hospital.  I had a a very sick little peanut that night.  I got home late, 8:30 am, I had to be back to work at 7pm that same day. Eleven hours was all I had to sleep, eat and regenerate.
I changed into my jammies, washed my face, kissed my husband good morning and good night, made the bed, so I can get back into a nice orderly bed. That's a nurse thing, the analnicity of it all  (a word that I made up, explaining why a nurse needs to have things in a certain order.) got into bed and promptly thought about everything that went on that last night.  Ughhhh I couldn't turn off my brain. Why??? I need these precious hours of sleep. I started to cry, I was so tired. My husband heard me and came upstairs to check on me.

"Whats wrong?" he asked gently. Always approach a tired crying nurse slowly, with care.

"I can't sleeeep" I wailed. "I need to sleep."

He promptly turned around and went back downstairs. I heard him rumbling around in the kitchen for a few minutes. Then he came back upstairs holding a tray and on it was a piece of toast and a shot glass full of tequila.  "Eat this, then drink this, and then you will have no problem going to sleep."

Did I forget to mention that I love this man.

"Tequila, Love Husband"

Oh Charlie

Nursing school, first year, first rotation.......
I was dress to the nines, had my nursing cap on, check, my white shoes, check, my super clean white uniform, Yep, and my blue apron that had my school logo on it, ( which I always thought It made us look like we worked in Dietary). But anyway I digressed.
I arrived at the Nursing home where my first rotation was to take place. I recieved my ONE patient's name.  An elderly gentleman named Charlie*.  My duties were to obtain vital signs, get his weight , and do am care, which included a shower and hair care.  Ok I can handle that. What trouble can an 80+ year old man and I get into?

I walked into Charlie's room and with a large smile and a sappy happy voice, I stated " Good Morning Mr. D. I am your student Nurse Marylou and I am here to get you all cleaned up." He looked at me with his watery eyes and slight smile on his face, just nodded at me, not saying a word.

I got him into his wheelchair, briskley took him down the hallway to the showers. Placed him into the shower chair, lathered him all up and got the shower hose to rinse him off, but all of a sudden Charlie grabbed the hose and decided to hose me down instead.  I mean full on soaking, head to toe.

With my soaking uniform, and nurse's cap askew I manage to get the hose back and take care of Charlie.

As he was resting nicely in his bed, all clean and waiting for breakfast, I stood outside in the hallway leaning up against the wall.  Feeling very defended and WET.  I was thinking "Why did I decide to go into Nursing?  What am I doing?  I will never make it as a nurse, I can't even give and 80 year man a bath" just at that moment my nursing instructor Mrs. S. came around the corner and saw me.  I thought for sure she was going to give me a tongue lashing, but she stood there for a minute and then burst out laughing, doubled over slapping her thighs laughing.  With tears in her eyes and tears in mine ( for a different reason) she said "Student Nurse Marylou is your patient clean?"  All I could do was nod my head, then I burst out laughing and my day just got better.

To this day I always wonder if my Nursing insturctor would have acted differently, would I have stayed in this career?  Thank  goodness for loving, nurturing insturctors with a sense of humor.

*All names have been changed*

The blood clot

The Blood Clot

Don't let the names of my titles scare you.

Before I became a Nurse, I was a nurse's aid, the right  hand for a nurse. I cleaned up all the messes. I worked the night shift on the oncology floor (Cancer unit), in a very large hospital.

On a very busy night ,the Nurse and I had 28 patients to care for. My nurse was busy getting all the numerous meds ready, while I checked in on our patients and did vital signs, which is basically , blood pressures, temperatures, breathing and heart rates, checked all IV's and urinary cathers and any other bodily drains.

I came into Mr. G's room, our comatose patient, I monitor all of his vital signs and as I was coming around to the other side of the bed ,to check his IV, I noticed that his hand (the one with the IV in it) was hanging over the edge of the bed and his IV, in that hand, had become disconnected and he had bled out onto the floor.

Much to my dismay, there was a huge blood clot on the floor.  I'm not talking about a splat of blood but a small garbage can lid size.  I notified his nurse right away, and now I thinking to myself, this needs to be cleaned up.  No problem , I grap some paper towels from the bathroom and proceed to wipe up the clot.

Yeah right, this thing had a mind of its own. First it slipped to the right. I chased it. Slips to the left, come on I think.  Have you ever seen a big glob of  jello wiggle and slip around. This was that and more.
We finally ended up under the bed, the clot and I. And all I was thinking was "What if Mr. G wakes up and is wondering why there is a small blond woman under his bed."  Set me into a fit of the giggles.
I told  this clot"I will get you my pretty" but it still eluded my grasp.  I went into the nurses station "and found the biggest drainage syringe I could find (syringes without needles).   And proceeded to
suck up one end of the elusive clot with my big syringe. I gingerly carried Mr. Clot to the biohazard
waste container and disposed of him!
Eureka, success!
Mr G. did get a new IV and I got the clot.