(I’m frowning because, as you’ll note, my Jalapeno Bull has himself a little problem, in that his right front leg is protruding out of the top of his head. Oopsie. That’s gotta sting.)
28.
2
Scenes from Life: On Shower Temperature
Zack: <Gets in the shower after I’ve already been in there long enough to wash my hair.> That water is hot.
Sarah: No it’s not. It’s exactly how hot it was yesterday.
Zack: <Washes his face.> No, seriously, that water is face-scaldingly hot.
Sarah: The exact same temperature as yesterday.
Zack: No it’s not.
Sarah: Uh, Zack, I think I would know.
Zack: So hot.
<minutes pass>
Sarah: I’m getting out of the shower now, so you can adjust the water temperature however you’d like.
Zack: You’re abandoning me?
Sarah: I only have so long to get ready. I’ve gotta go.
Zack: <adjusts the water.> You can’t say the water wasn’t too hot when the cold water was completely off.
Sarah: I take a shower with only the hot water on every single morning.
Zack: No you don’t.
Sarah: <Sings, to the tune of “Every Morning” by Sugar Ray> “Every morning when I wake up I take a shower with only the hot water on…”
Zack: … No. On so many levels. No.
Throwback: My favorite pictures of Kate
I think this bottom one is my all-time favorite. Her expression is just priceless. She was only a month or two old there, and she was just starting to smile. I had just finished a baby photos shoot with her, and I still had my camera out when she started grinning at me. She was too close to my face for me to look through the viewfinder, so I just held the camera above my head and hoped that I got the shot. It’s fuzzy, and her chin is missing, but her expression makes up for the picture’s faults. That child melts my heart.
Never has a post been more deserving of my ‘non sequitur’ category.
I don’t have a poop story for today. That, my friends, is something to be thankful for.
Also, be thankful for river otters. Because they are mighty cute.
Today’s Poop Story*
Words that I heard today: “Um, Sarah? There’s poop dripping on the floor.”
Those words came from one of the 8 nursing students I had in my room at that particular moment, all of whom were accompanied by my nursing school clinical instructor. The student used her keen assessment skills to notice that my fecal collection bag was SO FULL of poop and gas (fart-in-a-bag, delicious, right?) that it was rupturing. RUPTURING. It’s always fun when the person who trained you how to be a nurse is in the room when something awesome (and completely avoidable, if you’re, you know, paying attention) happens. That’s a sure-fire way to impress a former instructor and a group of nursing students. Fumble some POOP. Super, super smooth.
Luckily, I managed the situation with some quick delegation (Ex: UUUUUHHHH, YOU**! GET ME THE BUCKET OUT OF THE BATHROOM!) and the swift aid of my instructor, who, thank God, happened to already have some gloves on. Sure there was some splashing involved, but luckily for me, I happened to be in the middle of bath time when the whole crowd of students rolled into my room, so there were towels everywhere. And, I’ll have you know, I used those towels preemptively. Not reactively. BOOYAH. NURSED!!!
*Almost every day has a new poop story. Almost every single day. Such is my life.
**In CPR training, they teach you that you should specifically choose one person to call 9-1-1. You shouldn’t just yell, “SOMEONE CALL 9-1-1!” because everyone will think someone else is doing it. Be specific, they tell you. As it turns out, emergency poop situations require a similar delegation technique. When there are 10 people in a room with an exploding poop bag, you have to pick a person to go get the poop bucket. You can’t just be yelling out for “someone” to go get the poop bucket. You have to be specific. Thank you, 9-1-1 training, for preparing me for these emergency moments.
On Very, Very Low Self-Awareness
I had such a strong craving for an ice cream sandwich over the weekend that I made a special trip to the store just to buy one (OK, fine, A FEW).
And that, in a sentence, is why I shouldn’t have been surprised by the fact that I started my period today.
Don’t fret, though. I called Zack and apologized for my behavior this week as soon as I figured it out. I should seriously put calendar alerts into my phone or something.
On How Zack Is Smarter
It never fails that the day after you tell someone how great things are going, that’s the day that blows up in your face.
Zack and I had dinner with some friends last night, and I told them about how well nursing was going. I was starting to get a handle on my time management, I told them. I was starting to feel a wee bit comfortable.
Words of death.
Luckily, my husband is smarter than I am. He must have taken note that I was mindlessly declaring my awesomeness at dinner last night. Because tonight, when I came home from work totally ragged — having not eaten anything more than a granola bar since my alarm went off at 5:10, having run my ass off all day long, never sitting down, never catching a break — he had dinner ready and waiting for me. And he had the margaritas pre-blended. And then, when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he turned on Crazy, Stupid, Love, which he rented just for me.
I’m so glad he’s smarter than me.
Throwback Photo Booth Content
I love my dog.
Scenes From Life: Dinner Conversations with Boo
Boo: I’ve been making lists on my marker board every night before I go to bed. I have projects up there, to-do lists, all sorts of stuff. I’m a list person now! I make lists!
Sarah: No wonder you were so productive with your day today. You had a list.
Boo: I know! I did every single damn thing on my to-do list today!
Sarah: Yes, but did you clean your room?
Boo: Actually, my room has been pretty clean lately.
Sarah: Oh, yeah?
Boo: Yeah. I kept it pretty clean for about a week, and the change in mom’s mood was so noticeable, that now if I don’t clean it, dad will sneak in the room and clean it for me.
Sarah: …Wow.
Boo: Yeah! I asked dad about it, and he was like, “Hey, if that’s what it takes to make her happy, it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” I mean, who knew all it would take to make our mom super happy was to pick up a few pieces of clothes off the floor and make my bed every day.
Sarah: EVERYONE ELSE. THAT IS WHO KNEW THAT. EVERY ONE BUT YOU TWO. I mean, shit, I figured that out years ago! Why do you think I’m her favorite child?
Boo: Touché. Oh, well, we get it now. Problem solved!
On Rembering The First Death
They say you always remember your first death.
As nurses, we see a lot of people die. That’s part of our job. We get to experience life in its best and its worst moments, and death is a big part of that. Eventually, we see enough of life’s worst moments that we become calloused to them, and they don’t affect us as deeply anymore. But new nurses don’t have callouses yet. And we all know that we have to watch out for the first death.
My first death was months ago. An elderly patient who was well loved and well cared for. I thought that I would be sad about it, but I wasn’t. The patient had a good, long life, and was surrounded by a loving family. I kept waiting for the feelings of sadness to wash over me, but they never came. I almost teared up as the hospital chaplain prayed with the family, but just as I was about to cry, an alarm went off that I had to silence. Work comes before emotions when you’re in the hospital.
I’ve had a few deaths since then. Some were sadder than others, but nothing that made me cry after I got home. At-Home-Crying is the easiest way for me to judge my emotional involvement. People tell me all the time that I have to learn to leave work at work and not take it home with me. Maybe that’s a skill that comes with becoming calloused. I try, I really do try. Most days I succeed. Today, I have not succeeded.
I picked up an extra shift at work today. I didn’t have to work, but I chose to–partly because we were short-staffed–but mostly because I really liked the patients that I worked with yesterday. Liking the patients that you’re working with makes all the difference in how difficult your day is. If you’re working with patients that are incessantly auditioning to play opposite Walter Matthau in the next Grumpy Old Men, it makes for a long day. If you’re working with sweet, gentle families, days go quickly and smoothly. I had sweet, gentle families and good patients yesterday, so I chose to come back today and work with them again.
Nobody died on my shift today. When I agreed to come to work today, it had never occurred to me that someone passing away on my shift was even a possibility. As soon as I realized that death was (not just possible, but) imminent, I prayed constantly that nobody would die on my shift. I really, really didn’t want anyone to die on my shift. But as the shift started to draw to a close, it became very evident that my prayer was being answered in a literal way. The patient was not going to die… on my shift. The night shift nurse was going to have to do their own interceding if they wanted to change their fate.
It’s hard to say why some patient’s situations hit home and others don’t. There are some reasons for my emotional reaction that I understand, and there are others that I don’t. All I really understand tonight is that I am having the reaction that I expected to have months ago when my first patient die. I am having this reaction even though it wasn’t my first time, and even though nobody died on my watch.
