My Patient's Diagnosis

Semi vs. Fire Truck collision.
The driver of the 18 wheeler died at the scene.
The Fireman remains in ICU.

3 suppositories and 5 enemas later...

Wow. I am now officially a night shift nurse and can't believe that my body will ever get used to it. I think I'm going to like it. The entire atmosphere is completely different and everyone is more relaxed. It's pretty weird to eat lunch at 2 am and go to sleep at 8 in the morning. You sorta forget that the world is sleeping while you're saving lives ;)

I think I made the right choice as far as units go. The staff where I work is really fun and young. Last night 6 of 7 nurses working were between 22-27. That's a little scary but fortunately we have some awesome Charge Nurses to help us new-bees along.

I've got to accept that I'm going to make mistakes though. That's really hard for the perfectionist in me. I think every week I do at least one really stupid thing. Fortunately none of them have injured my patients in anyway. But it's hard to accept that your screw ups can have some pretty significant impacts on another person's life. It makes you want to double and triple check everything you do. I wish there was time for that.

I called a MD in the middle of the night for the first time, and despite the fact that it took three times for him to call me back, it wasn't nearly as bad as people say it can be. I guess that's something else I have to look forward to. But all in all, I know this is right where I should be and something about getting up as the sun goes down makes you feel like you're a part of some adventure.

Surgical Trauma Intensive Care Unit

For those of you who have been wondering/praying/asking...

Today I chose to commit to the STICU for the next year. Not the ER like many people expected. A LOT of factors were involved, but the main thing that knocked me off the fence was that in the ICU, despite all the death you see, you also see people get better.

Last week a man came into the unit to say hello to the staff. He had been in the ICU for over four months and no one thought he would make it out. His liver was so damaged that his eyes were florescent yellow, he was on dialysis, maxed out on blood pressure meds (among other things), and is still battling his leukemia. The doctors wanted to give up but kept on because he's only 29 years old.

He WALKED into the unit last week and the nurses started freaking out. Many of them crying. You never get to see that in an ER. I'm not sure I could watch all the pain without the occasional happy ending.

.tuesday.wednesday.thursday.

We've been studying how to engage the poor at my church. It's the most relevant topic I can think of in a city that has at least two homeless people standing at my Exit on 16/75 everyday, and blanketed bundles in nearly every alleyway downtown.

We've talked a lot the last two weeks about how we don't have to go looking for hurting, poor and broken people. They are surrounding us. Even though we often don't take the time to look under the old blankets, in the garbage bins, or even just behind our neighbor's door.

This week God didn't even give me the chance to look around. He put a homeless, hurting, child in one of my hospital beds for three days. Stephen (name changed to protect the innocent) is a 19 year old, mentally handicapped foster child. He has had no friends visit in three days. He had no one call to check on him. He had a previous foster mother come in once on my shift. He is fighting for his life.

He was brought into the ER with a temperature of 89 degrees, he was covered in staph infections and his platelets and white blood cells were so low that everything pointed towards an autoimmune disease...perhaps HIV or even leukemia. He should have been in the hospital weeks ago. But there was no one to take notice.

Engaging the poor occurs pretty often in my job. And I don't say that to make it sound easy. It just isn't something I have to go looking for much. The hard part for me is believing that there is anyway to make a difference. Believing that anything will change.

I like fixing people. I'm not great at it but I always try. My mom has laughed at me over the years because I tend to have close friends with huge catastrophes in their lives...divorce, cancer, abuse, deaths, eating disorders and so on. I'm not sure how it happens. But God shows Himself to me through their pain. Even if it takes years.

I'm not sure what I'll learn from Stephen though. It makes me angry. Angry that no one wanted him when he was born, angry that he's been thrown into the foster system, angry that even at 19 he was unable to escape the system, angry that he's sick and no one noticed, angry that he's in the ICU and no one cares. And perhaps most angry that if and when he gets out...none of those things will change for him.

Where is the hope in that?

We're singing a song tomorrow at church that contains the hope.
"A Father to the orphan, a Healer to the broken, this is our God.
He brings peace to your madness, and comfort in our sadness.
This is the One we have waited for, this is our God."

I'm not sure I've really engaged the poor this week. But they have engaged me.

grace disguised.




by jess parks.