Double double, urine and trouble
This week was a long week, I was working doubles every other day, with one shift in between each, and I am exhausted! But it has been a really rewarding week, good thing I love my job :) Tonight I want to post about a sweetheart I got to know well at one of my jobs tonight, one of the rewarding moments of my work came out tonight.
This patient is very confused, with some sundowning tendencies, and I had mostly been working graves when he first moved in, which meant I dealt with the worst of both conditions for eight hours. He was notorious for pottying everywhere, wetting the entire bed as well as the floor sometimes. One night I even came in to find him on the floor, lying in a pool of urine, stripped naked, curled up in fetal position, completely confused as to how he got there, and apologetic.
Another night he took the water carafe, which holds 1020 cc (mL) and pottied into it until he filled the entire thing. Good thing the aide helping me noticed it and recognized that it wasn't apple juice! :) Needless to say, cleanup was always hard, time consuming, and exhausting, and I had gotten into the bad habit of using the room number to refer to patients instead of their names, and so i had done with him.
Tonight was a really slow night, and I was tinkering around at the front desk when he came rolling out in his wheelchair. He sat out there and talked to me for almost an hour, and when he first started I was just listening to give him someone to talk at, but as I listened to him tell stories about Japan, his work in the air force, and about his dear wife, I felt awful. He poured his heart out to me, and told me several times how lonesome he was in that room all by himself, and my heart finally was softened, and it was breaking for him. All this time I had been on autopilot, just doing my work and leaving his room, and forgetting the most important part of my job: being a comfort, a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. I had him sit right by me, and we were having a lovely talk, I was sorry when his sleeping pill finally got the best of him.
I finished the night by talking to my coworkers as we waited for the next shift to arrive, and we discussed losing patients. I was surprised to hear that every employee had just one or two patients that stuck out to them when they lost them, and changed their lives for years to come. We all connected in that moment, sharing stories of those we love and have passed on. This poem has always meant a lot to me, I don't know who wrote it, so tonight I dedicate it to the twenty nine patients I have been close to, loved and lost in the past two years:
This patient is very confused, with some sundowning tendencies, and I had mostly been working graves when he first moved in, which meant I dealt with the worst of both conditions for eight hours. He was notorious for pottying everywhere, wetting the entire bed as well as the floor sometimes. One night I even came in to find him on the floor, lying in a pool of urine, stripped naked, curled up in fetal position, completely confused as to how he got there, and apologetic.
Another night he took the water carafe, which holds 1020 cc (mL) and pottied into it until he filled the entire thing. Good thing the aide helping me noticed it and recognized that it wasn't apple juice! :) Needless to say, cleanup was always hard, time consuming, and exhausting, and I had gotten into the bad habit of using the room number to refer to patients instead of their names, and so i had done with him.
Tonight was a really slow night, and I was tinkering around at the front desk when he came rolling out in his wheelchair. He sat out there and talked to me for almost an hour, and when he first started I was just listening to give him someone to talk at, but as I listened to him tell stories about Japan, his work in the air force, and about his dear wife, I felt awful. He poured his heart out to me, and told me several times how lonesome he was in that room all by himself, and my heart finally was softened, and it was breaking for him. All this time I had been on autopilot, just doing my work and leaving his room, and forgetting the most important part of my job: being a comfort, a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. I had him sit right by me, and we were having a lovely talk, I was sorry when his sleeping pill finally got the best of him.
I finished the night by talking to my coworkers as we waited for the next shift to arrive, and we discussed losing patients. I was surprised to hear that every employee had just one or two patients that stuck out to them when they lost them, and changed their lives for years to come. We all connected in that moment, sharing stories of those we love and have passed on. This poem has always meant a lot to me, I don't know who wrote it, so tonight I dedicate it to the twenty nine patients I have been close to, loved and lost in the past two years:
God saw you getting tired, a cure was not to be,
so he put his arms around you & whispered come with me.
With tearful eyes we watched & saw you pass away.
Although we love you dearly we could not make you stay.
A golden heart stopped beating, hard working hands at rest.
God broke our hearts to prove to us, He only takes the best
I'm very glad this week happened, because I have been pushed to my limits and reminded why I work so hard at what I do. I also made a good friend this week that is teaching me a lot at work, so I'm especially excited to don my scrubs now. Have a good week guys, I'm going to bed. :) God bless
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