Trash the Dress

  

 

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Respect

Some people earn instant respect by the credentials after their name. Others earn it by the school they went to, the awards they have won, or the position they hold at their job.  In pediatric nursing, these achievements mean absolutely nothing. A few weeks ago I had a fifth grade boy as a patient. He had a wound on his leg that I needed to examine, but he was terrified that I was going to hurt him. When I would come near him he would move to the other side of the bed. I needed to earn his trust or I was going to get nowhere. “How far can you get in Guitar Hero?” I challenged him. “I can almost beat it on medium,” he bragged. “That’s cool, I can beat everything but Jordan,” I casually said. His eyes got large and his mouth dropped open as he froze and looked over at me. “You can almost beat Guitar Hero on medium!?” he asked.  I smiled and replied, “No. I CAN beat it on medium. I just can’t beat Jordan on expert.” As we continued to discuss Guitar Hero, I assessed his wound and changed the dressing without even an “ouch”. 

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Jump!

 
Photo by Adept Studios, Ft. Lauderdale Florida
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The Wedding

Click on the link on the right to see our wedding pictures!

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The power of gas

After certain abdominal surgeries, passing gas can help relieve pain. I learned yesterday that farting is such a powerful healing tool that even fake farts can make someone feel better.
My patient was a grade-school aged boy recovering from a painful operation to his leg. He paged me to his room for pain medicine and as soon as I began examining his IV, he let out an extremely large fart. I looked at his face and could tell he was trying not to laugh, so I smiled and said, "Feel better now?" Both he and his sister burst out laughing. This laughter led to several more drawn-out farts, and it did not take me long to realize that there was a fart machine involved. "Where is it?" I asked with a smile. He pulled out from under his sheet a little remote-operated machine. Wow, the whoopee cushion has gone high tech! His doctor had ordered that he get up and out of bed several times each shift, but he had not been willing to walk around yet. Applying my hard-learned critical thinking skills from that awful experience I call nursing school, I said, "Want to have some fun with that?" His whole face lit up and he shouted, "Sure!" I grabbed his crutches and handed them to him. I gave his sister the fart machine and I took the remote. "Let’s go for a walk by the nursing station," I casually said. His mom laughed and his dad hid his face in his hands. Peter* slowly climbed out of bed and our journey began. At first he was slowly navigating down the hall. When he passed the extremely busy nursing station, I pushed the button on my remote. A loud but quick farting noise was immediately heard, and Peter hunched over forward and put his hand on his stomach. A few nurses and doctors paused and looked up, but no one said anything. As he stood there, I pushed the button again. This time the machine picked a long, diarrhea-sounding noise. Peter took off on his crutches moving down the hall. The nurses all looked around at each other, and my coworker Donna said to him, "Are you ok?!" He replied, "Yea, I *INSERT LOUD FARTING NOISE*, uh…" His sister was laughing so hard she was almost crying. Donna was obviously trying to stay composed, but after another push of the button, she could not control herself. As she started laughing, so did Peter, followed by most people at the nursing station. "I think I should go back to my room," Peter said, and as he began going back down the hallway, I accompanied him with the appropriate sound effects. When he finally returned to his room and was filling his parents in on his performance, he could not stop smiling. "How’s your leg feeling," I asked, expecting it to be pretty sore after walking around. "Oh, it’s great!" he answered, surprised. Two hours (and numerous times retelling his story) later, he still was not having any pain.
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My Prince Charming

We were on our way home from a nice dinner and I started having a mini "I’m getting married soon" freak-out. To calm myself down, I began thinking about how perfect Mike is. He’s sweet, loving, cute, and an overall great guy. By the time we pulled into the driveway and got out of the car, I was excited again about getting married. I smiled at Mike as we walked towards the house. But before we made it to the porch, I felt an awful sensation: a spider web stuck to my face. As I frantically began to rip the web off, I noticed a large spider on my stomach. Now, I have a strict no-kill policy when it comes to bugs, and I consider myself to be a tomboy, which is why I cannot explain or account for the sounds that I started making or the actions of my body. I let out a high-pitched scream as my arms, without my brain telling them to, began to hit at my stomach. "Get it off me!" I desperately screamed to Mike. I kept hitting myself and kicking my legs (I’m not sure how that was supposed to help get the spider off) when I noticed that Mike was not coming to my aid. I managed to temporarily regain control of my limbs and ran towards him. That’s when he did the unimaginable… he ran away from me. With one well-placed swat I finally managed to get the spider off myself, and I sprinted into the house. "Why didn’t you help me?!" I screamed at my soon-to-be husband. "Because it was dark out and I didn’t want to get the spider on myself," he replied. Well, at least he’s cute.
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Triage notes

Before entering my new patient’s room, I read his triage notes. “Diarrhea at 0300. Mucous membranes moist, patient playful, drinking Gatorade at triage. No fevers, no signs of distress.” I looked at my watch and noted that he had only had diarrhea for a few hours. This should be an easy patient, which was exactly what I needed at the end of this long shift. I walked into the room and introduced myself to the family. The boy was around two years old and was sitting on the examination table. He looked calm, but was working hard to breathe. This was not consistent with diarrhea for a few hours. The parents were Spanish-speaking only, so maybe there was a miscommunication at triage? I began examining the boy. Everything seemed fine- his breath sounds were clear, no fever, and he appeared well-hydrated. I bent down close to him to lift up his shirt to see if he was retracting (using extra muscles to breathe). That’s when it happened. “GRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!” he screamed, raising his hands up in a claw-like fashion while making a scary face. Startled, I jumped back, now fully awake. “GRRRRRRR!!” I growled back, tickling him. The triage nurse forgot to note that my patient was a little dinosaur. After he stopped giggling and doing his dinosaur breathing, he looked like a healthy little boy. Not wanting to spoil the doctor’s fun, I forgot to mention the patient’s reptile-status when she asked about him before entering the room. A few minutes later I heard another “GRRRRRRRRR!” followed by the doctor’s laughter and, “Would you please grab this dragon a popsicle?”

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