october

First off, you've been forewarned, this post is gonna be all over the place. That's where, it seems, my mind is currently. I graduate on Friday about which I'm really excited and sort of disbelieving that it's already here. But that excitement gets tempered with nervousness (I know Quelle surprise for the few who read regularly) about passing NCLEX, which I need to do in order to practice as an RN, and finding a job, which I need to do in order to pay the bills, keep a roof over mine and the kids heads, eat. This need to find a job really weighs on me with every resume that I send off through the UPMC website, which, at times, seems akin to putting my resume in a black hole. I mean I've got previous job experience, I'm mature (at least that's the positive spin adjective for middle aged), I've got a 3.52 GPA in school (which is high honors in St. Margaret's land because they have a weird grading system that I'm still trying to make sense of, but I do know that school was ten times harder than being an English major at Syracuse), I presented at student nursing grand rounds which was hailed as the proverbial feather in my cap and supposedly this great thing to put on my resume. But I've only had one interview and that didn't go well.

It was at WPIC, a place I'd really like to work. I interviewed for two different units, the one woman was older and she went out of her way to introduce me to everyone even though I'd told her I didn't want think my skils were best suited for her unit (John Merck unit for those with mental retardation and autism). She understood why I didn't want to work in there, and as she sized me up and told me her unit is the most violent (staff has the highest number of injuries there) I think she questioned whether I could even physically be capable of being on that unit. But she still showed interest in meeting with me. The second woman, well I knew she wasn't interested in me 30 seconds into the interview, when I was trying to explain what telecommuting was and, no, I hadn't lived in Pebble Beach, California. I don't know if it was a generational difference (the woman was maybe 25) or something else but she introduced me to no one when we toured the unit and she didn't ask me any questions and the whole interview made me feel like I was failing with how little interest she showed in the whole process with me. And that was in a unit I'd like to be in. Oh well.

I finished up my last clinical day Thursday night, into friday morning. I worked on the liver and intestinal transplant unit at Children's and that unit is TOUGH but by the end of my stay there I really enjoyed it there and was finally starting to feel a bit comfortable. Maybe I am just a fucked up parent but I really want to work with transplant children or with the pediatric oncology population. You can build a long term relationship with the patient, and, for me, I think that's when you can be most effective because you truly get to know the patient and family and get a sense for their likes and dislikes, the nursing style that's best to keep them comfortable while they're in the hospital. My preceptor was young, 25, but a very good, very thorough and safe nurse who is absolutely loved by the patients and their families. It's a struggle for me, being the older one but a student learning, I don't have a problem with that but I can have a hard time reading certain people and the fact that I was working with this preceptor for 140 hours, I'm hypersensitive to my possibly driving her batty having someone following her every move, trying to help out but feeling sometimes like I'm just in the way. I learned an enormous amount from her, I just wish I knew whether she thought I was good, awful or somewhere in between. I frequently view myself as awful if a person says nothing, so I have no fucking clue. Getting a position at Children's is my first choice hospital and if I could get on the weekend program, because then I could go manage going on for my master's and not be stretched close to breaking, I'd be overjoyed then.

Being around sick children really makes me appreciate and love my children that much more because it's a very real reminder of how precious a healthy life is. There was one family I was involved with from October 1st through to my last day. Their strength and kindness in the face of such adversity is inspiring. The english major will forever be a part of me and some of the terms they toss out so quickly stuck with me, such as 'a hot mess' usually indicating a patient that's proving to be especially challenging from a medical standpoint. A 'rockstar' is the patient/family you want to have, very easy to work with, taking medications like a champ. And 'dirty' is used for patients with infections that they're trying to find a bed for, who tend not to be put on this unit because so many of the patients are immunocompromised. Like a ruptured appendectomy wouldn't be put on that unit - if it's really busy and you have the space non liver/intestinal transplant kids wind up on the floor but it would most likely be a T&A and yes, when I heard that I thought tits and ass? No it's short for tonsillectomy and adnoidectomy.

During my last week my back, groin pain, which has been a problem since June, reached new levels of pain. I worked overnight Monday with an icy/hot patch slapped on my back, popping 800 mg ibuprofen every 8 hours and still hobbling about like a none too spry octogenarian. When I got home Tuesday morning I called the doctor's office in tears and they called in a scrip for vicodin for me (because the ibuprofen and flexeril aren't touching the pain). I still can't sleep on my left side and haven't been to the gym all week, which is killing me because that's what keeps me on this side of sanity. I saw an orthopedic doctor Friday and need to get an MRI of my pelvis next week and he's scheduling me for a visit to the pain clinic because he said given my week it sounds like I need a shot of cortisone (I'm starting to feel like I need a half dozen shots of cortisone). He mentioned that I might have a labral tear (the labrum is sort of like a liner for the acetabulum, which is the socket the head of your femur goes into which makes up your hip joint). I read up on it and these injuries require rest, physical therapy (which I'd been doing in August and continued to do the exercises until this flare up) and if you still get no response then surgery. I think I rambled about this in an earlier post but this groin injury was from a massage. A masseuse told me I felt tight and manipulated my left leg and arm and both may hip and shoulder (consequently both are ball socket joints and can suffer from labral tears) have bothered me ever since. My arm doesn't bother me quite as much which I'm guess is because I don't walk on my arm but my leg, it gets me close to tears when I think about it. My range of motion is so limited now, I used to do the splits regularly when I cooled down after exercising no I'm lucky if I can touch my toes. And the pain, right now, as I type this, it's only about a 3 or 4 out of 10. But it never goes away. I feel it no matter what I do and I can no longer sleep on my left side. My Mom being my Mom had to tell me that she hasn't been able to sleep on her right side for years and then wanted to recommend another orthopedic doctor for a second opinion should I need surgery 'because he has this innovative technique and he's the best in his field when it comes to hips...' when all I really wanted to hear was 'That fucking sucks, let's go beat up that masseuse.' Why couldn't she commiserate with me without one upping me or trying to give me medical advice? I called the place I got the massage at and spoke to the owner, who hadn't given me the massage. She was very nice and concerned. She said she'd reimburse for what I spent for the massage (A LOT!) and offered to give me a massage to help out, I told her I'd hold off until I knew more from my MRI. I'm thinking of going on antidepressants because being in some degree of pain since June is really starting to affect me mentally.