10 4. Over and Out.
I have walked the 240 hour walk. Yesterday morning, I put on my nursing student uniform for the last time. Alas, my clinical journey is over.
It's done.
Does that mean this blog is done? No. Not yet. Even though there are no more "clinical adventures," as this blog title discusses, there are still many nursing student adventures that I will be blogging about. My last HESI, my class trip to Frontier Nursing University, my pinning ceremony and graduation, my first time taking the boards, and of course, my first job. There are still many things that I will be blogging about, and I've developed a unique way of how I am going to end it when that time comes. But for now, I'll let bygones be bygones and briefly (or not) discuss my last clinical day.
The morning started out kind of rough. Over the weekend, my 91-year-old Grandpa developed a turn for the worst after a nasty fall over the last few days. My mom called Thursday night and stated the staff was doubtful he'd even survive through the weekend. But as from this afternoon's phone call, he's still with us, but my family is certain that his time will soon be ending. I'm not terribly sad though; I know where he's going and I know he'll be in a better place. Anyway, in lieu of this experience in starting to grieve over a family member's loss, I was surprised to see one of the patients I had last weekend. Turned out he too had taken a turn for the worst; he had some cultures come back positive for cancer. Yesterday the family had decided to withdraw care and to let him go on his own. He was extubated around 4:00; around 5:30 he passed. I remember running into his wife on the way out. We shared an embrace and she thank my preceptor and I for taking good care of her husband. She said she was going to take a break from school, but we encouraged her to finish. After a few more minutes of talking, she left. About an hour later the coroner came in. We shut the curtains of all the other patient's rooms. Even though this occurred at shift change, when the coroner brought the body out, it grew quiet. Though some remained where they were, others stood. I then realized I will probably never experience any moment like that in my life again. It was just so...real. But this experience of me with my grandpa's ailing heart really helped me. It helped me to be a temporary support, even if just for a few minutes. Sometimes a few minutes can make all the difference in the world.
My one constant patient throughout the day was a treasure. I wanted to take him home with me! He was so sweet!!!! Definitely a good one to end my time here. Anyway, he was stable and the only reason he was with us was because he had a lumbar drain and we had to drain out 10mL of fluid...EVERY. HOUR. My preceptor said that if he were on a regular floor they wouldn't have time to do that. In the back of my mind I was wondering though...well what makes them think WE have enough time to do that? I was kidding of course, and I made the time to do it. Had to be done. I wrote "lumbar drain q1hr" on my arm so I wouldn't forget! Anyway, the only difficulty I had with my patient was that he was a bit HOH, which sometimes made things a bit interesting. In case you are wondering, HOH means hard of hearing. I didn't shout, because I don't believe in doing that with HOH patients; I just get a little closer to them and talk slower. I had the opportunity to do a lot of things I normally don't do; make sure his "jug" was nearby (urinal), made sure he had his "water" (diet Sprite) and that his "button" was always with him (call light). I also got to clean dentures, which is something I had never gotten the opportunity to do. Anyway, sometimes I'd go in there and he'd be sleeping and most of the time I didn't wake him up. One time I did wake him up though and he asked me what I was doing. I don't even remember what I was doing, but when I finished he looked at me and said "10 4." Without even missing a beat I said "over and out." It's the little things. I felt that phrase was an appropriate title. But yeah. That was about it. A good last day, one I soon won't forget. It's over. I'm still trying to let it sink in. Doesn't seem like it is. There's not much time left now; 4 more weeks until I walk, skip or crawl across that stage! It hasn't really hit me yet, but I think it's starting to. But yes, my clinical journey has reached an end. Hopefully the next time I walk into a hospital, I'll hopefully have the initials RN beside my name!
With your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Go in peace, and laugh on glory's side
And fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live.
# of days completed: 20
# of hours remaining: 0
It's done.
Does that mean this blog is done? No. Not yet. Even though there are no more "clinical adventures," as this blog title discusses, there are still many nursing student adventures that I will be blogging about. My last HESI, my class trip to Frontier Nursing University, my pinning ceremony and graduation, my first time taking the boards, and of course, my first job. There are still many things that I will be blogging about, and I've developed a unique way of how I am going to end it when that time comes. But for now, I'll let bygones be bygones and briefly (or not) discuss my last clinical day.
The morning started out kind of rough. Over the weekend, my 91-year-old Grandpa developed a turn for the worst after a nasty fall over the last few days. My mom called Thursday night and stated the staff was doubtful he'd even survive through the weekend. But as from this afternoon's phone call, he's still with us, but my family is certain that his time will soon be ending. I'm not terribly sad though; I know where he's going and I know he'll be in a better place. Anyway, in lieu of this experience in starting to grieve over a family member's loss, I was surprised to see one of the patients I had last weekend. Turned out he too had taken a turn for the worst; he had some cultures come back positive for cancer. Yesterday the family had decided to withdraw care and to let him go on his own. He was extubated around 4:00; around 5:30 he passed. I remember running into his wife on the way out. We shared an embrace and she thank my preceptor and I for taking good care of her husband. She said she was going to take a break from school, but we encouraged her to finish. After a few more minutes of talking, she left. About an hour later the coroner came in. We shut the curtains of all the other patient's rooms. Even though this occurred at shift change, when the coroner brought the body out, it grew quiet. Though some remained where they were, others stood. I then realized I will probably never experience any moment like that in my life again. It was just so...real. But this experience of me with my grandpa's ailing heart really helped me. It helped me to be a temporary support, even if just for a few minutes. Sometimes a few minutes can make all the difference in the world.
My one constant patient throughout the day was a treasure. I wanted to take him home with me! He was so sweet!!!! Definitely a good one to end my time here. Anyway, he was stable and the only reason he was with us was because he had a lumbar drain and we had to drain out 10mL of fluid...EVERY. HOUR. My preceptor said that if he were on a regular floor they wouldn't have time to do that. In the back of my mind I was wondering though...well what makes them think WE have enough time to do that? I was kidding of course, and I made the time to do it. Had to be done. I wrote "lumbar drain q1hr" on my arm so I wouldn't forget! Anyway, the only difficulty I had with my patient was that he was a bit HOH, which sometimes made things a bit interesting. In case you are wondering, HOH means hard of hearing. I didn't shout, because I don't believe in doing that with HOH patients; I just get a little closer to them and talk slower. I had the opportunity to do a lot of things I normally don't do; make sure his "jug" was nearby (urinal), made sure he had his "water" (diet Sprite) and that his "button" was always with him (call light). I also got to clean dentures, which is something I had never gotten the opportunity to do. Anyway, sometimes I'd go in there and he'd be sleeping and most of the time I didn't wake him up. One time I did wake him up though and he asked me what I was doing. I don't even remember what I was doing, but when I finished he looked at me and said "10 4." Without even missing a beat I said "over and out." It's the little things. I felt that phrase was an appropriate title. But yeah. That was about it. A good last day, one I soon won't forget. It's over. I'm still trying to let it sink in. Doesn't seem like it is. There's not much time left now; 4 more weeks until I walk, skip or crawl across that stage! It hasn't really hit me yet, but I think it's starting to. But yes, my clinical journey has reached an end. Hopefully the next time I walk into a hospital, I'll hopefully have the initials RN beside my name!
With your final heartbeat
Kiss the world goodbye
Go in peace, and laugh on glory's side
And fly to Jesus, fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus and live.
# of days completed: 20
# of hours remaining: 0
AHH don't you just love sweet patients!? They always make my clinical days go so much smoother!
ReplyDeleteHi Rebecca! Thanks for reading! :)
ReplyDelete