Doin' this Sh*t

“…and the only thing more impossible than staying…was leaving.” – from Eat, Pray, Love

I’m coming down with another flu. Yesterday I was feeling very off, fatigued, feverish and sore in the throat; I could barely think properly. Good thing I only had this seminar to attend to, and didn’t have to weather the entire day going on duty, because if not, God knows what I could’ve messed up.

I was feeling terribly worried yesterday too, since my co-nurses told me that the patient I handled the other shift had to be transferred to the ICU because aside from having Dengue, his throat swab results showed he tested positive for MRSA too. Now, for those who are unfamiliar with MRSA, it’s a superbug—a strain of mutated bacteria that has become resistant to most antibiotics over the years, making it more difficult to treat and more life-threatening than usual infections.

A Vision and a Life Mission

And the winner is…the bookstore!

In any battle—any battle at all that rages in my head, heart and will to win the favor of my wallet—between the department store, the ladies’ wear section, the shoe store, the accessories shop, the home depot, the supermarket, the restaurant and the bookstore…almost every single time, the bookstore always wins. I mean, I was out the other day planning to buy meself a tote bag, and I roamed the malls all day scrutinizing bags on display. Somehow I always found something I didn’t like with each of them, until I wandered into a bookstore and it took 5 minutes for me to stumble upon a book that screamed out to me that I should buy it at that moment, or else lose the opportunity to ever find it again, and I walked over a few aisles ahead to think and there yet another book found me, and another one…until it was only a question of which book I bought, and no longer a question of whether I should buy one.

You see, every time I am in a bookstore, I realize just how much more wisdom and entertainment there is in the literary world that I haven’t soaked up yet, and just how much I am missing out on every moment I spend not having a book in my hands. So now that I’m actually earning again AND I don’t have any take-home work to do when I’m not on duty, I figured I should devote a portion of my budget and time to realizing my lifelong vision of reading the best books ever written—the classics, the award-winning, the extremely entertaining, the life-changing, THE literary jewels which have undoubtedly influenced the world and stimulated even life’s greatest thinkers.

So as you may have noticed,—or will notice, as soon as you finish reading the rest of this sentence—down the side of my blog page, waaay down below, I’ve added a section about the books I would want to have read before I kick the bucket. Most of it I already saw available in the bookstore of course, but among the first ones I bought were Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations and James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces.

Ohmysiomai and More

Ohmysiomai, ang ingay sa labas.

Lawnmower. Bsssshgrrrssshhhhbrrrssshhhhh.

Hammer. Pukpokpokpokpokpokpok.

Repeat. Bleaaagh.

Soooo, naturally, I cannot sleep.

Night shift pa man din ako mamaya. =(

I need to wring myself dry of thoughts and energy, so I’m here again, writing.

Last night I was on my way home from PM duty and as I passed by the glowing façade of the hospital I’m now employed in, I can’t help but feel awed at how “plateau” I feel about it…you know, about being employed here. Dati rati, tinitingala ko lang ‘tong ospital na ‘to. And I used to wonder, what it must be like to work here, one of the most esteemed hospitals in the country. I remember visiting the thought once or twice before—without expecting or hoping much—what it would be like to assume the status “staff nurse” under its roof. I remember marveling what it would feel like to wear that uniform, bearing a proud RN label on my chest with that famous insignia.

And now that I’m finally here, employed as a staff nurse, wearing that uniform…why am I not jumping up and down in absolute ecstasy? I mean, is this not the ultimate goal for any sensible novice nurse such as myself? Have I not just achieved the best thing that could ever happen to me after college? My first job, in this hospital…my goodness, it should blow my mind right now.

Baby RN Diaries: One Foot After the Other

I think I’m nearing the acceptance stage.

After a looong time bouncing between denial, bargaining, depression and sometimes anger, finally, it’s starting to feel like I’m more open to living the reality that’s life. In my half-awake, half-asleep state last night, I witnessed the word acceptance float into the realm of my consciousness. And I was like, it’s about time.

I don’t know if this will last, but I sure do hope it does. It’s been all too exhausting fighting against myself, fighting against the turn of the earth, fighting against life itself.

I’m not necessarily skipping on my way to work these days; it’s just that I feel I am more tolerant and accepting of how things are in my life right now. I’m no longer bawling my eyes out every day. I understand that I am at the prime of my youth, and if I keep babying myself, acting up and saying “I give up” all the time, I may well be surprised to one day find time has passed me by, and all my chances are gone.

The Baby RN Diaries: Dark Times

Yesterday morning I got woken up by a phone call from the unit. I initially thought—and was kind of hoping—that it was about my shift being moved from the scheduled PM shift to Night shift, but oh boy, was I wrong to think that ring-ring was a beacon of good news.

It was my manager, asking me about the patient I admitted the previous day. In my just-woken-up confusion, I recalled I admitted only one patient, a 6 y.o. girl, towards the end of my shift. My manager proceeded to tell me, in a frantic and almost desperate tone, that the patient fell from the bed that morning. She then asked me if I ever offered a crib to the patient’s mother, considering she was just 3 y/o and was therefore at a high risk for falls. I explained that the patient I admitted was 6 y/o and not 3 y/o, and when she insisted the patient was really 3 y/o, I got up and looked for my worksheet the previous day. Then I recalled the 3 y/o patient she was referring to was a patient admitted 15min before the start of my shift, so in essence I just “half-admitted” the patient. (Our policy states that if a patient is admitted 30min before the start of the next shift, the outgoing and incoming nurse share the responsibilities of admitting the patient).

The patient was in a regular bed when I received him, and as I explained to my manager, I wasn’t able to offer a crib. As my conversation with my manager went on, it became pretty clear to me that the fall incident would negatively impact my standing as a probie yet again. Great, katatapos lang ng medication error thing and here we go with another incident again. My half-dazed, half-confused self reeled from the weight of the reality that things are going from bad to worse.

The Baby RN Diaries: Ugly Realities

So my 3^rd week of duty is over and I’m here feeling like I’m about to lose my sanity yet again. I’m supposed to be asleep because I’ve got to go on duty again this afternoon, but insomnia has kicked in as my frail defenses crumble again and I am once more possessed with hopelessness and the I-don’t-wanna-do-this-anymore syndrome. It’s just been 3 WEEKS, folks, THREE WEEKS!—and yet it feels like it’s been forever. It’s overwhelming to think I’ve still got *pulls up calculator* ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THREE WEEKS TO GO, and I don’t know how on earth I am going to survive this.

I’m not the only one though. All over Facebook and there out on the streets, my batchmates who’ve been hired the same month as I have are all bewailing some sort of struggle as well. I’ve heard one say she’s been seriously considering a career change. I’ve talked with someone who’s thinking of giving up every.single.day, like I do. I’ve heard another one say she’s cried her eyes out and called up people to say she didn’t want to be a nurse anymore. I’ve read FB status updates saying “One month pa lang yun?? Feeling ko 10 years na!” At eto pa ang status na nagsummarize ng mga daing namin: "Dati pangarap ko... mag-abroad at yumaman. Ngayon iba na pangarap ko. Makakain ng 3x a day. Makainom ng tubig kapag tuyot na ang dila. Makaihi man lang kahit once sa loob ng isang shift. Makatulog ng kahit 6 hours man lang, at higit sa lahat pangarap ko ding makaupooo." 

The Baby RN Diaries: Won’t!

“Won’t!” –it’s one of a toddler’s favorite and most-used words. Child psychology explains that as they go through the developmental task Erikson describes as “Autonomy vs. Shame and Doubt,” it’s expected for them to often respond with “no” or “won’t” when asked questions or given orders. It’s not that they aim to show defiance; it’s just that it’s their way of fighting for their autonomy, as they begin to realize they are separate from their mothers and want to express that separateness while trying to prove their independence.

So the medication error thing has gotten more attention than I have expected. It turns out it has more serious gravity than I imagined it to have.

I was given a lengthy one-on-one medication orientation with the head nurse of the Pedia ICU yesterday, which was something I’m surprisingly thankful for, because I knew I was getting firsthand counsel from the expert. It felt like I actually got a personal tutorial, and not just from any senior nurse, but from a senior nurse who has been in the industry long enough to already be the one giving doctors advice about what should be done to the patients. In other words, sya ang tipong haligi at pundasyon na ng ospital.

The Baby RN Diaries: 2 Weeks Old and Dying

So I’m changing the name of this series from “Staff Nurse on Duty” to “The Baby RN Diaries.” I think “Baby RN” more aptly describes me in this phase of my life because 1) I am a staff nurse in the Pedia unit, so all my patients are bebes, and 2) I’ve just begun life as a practicing RN so I’m still kinda like a “baby” in this profession. Yeah, I’ll need to crawl first before I can walk. I’ll mess up a lot, probably ruin stuff, make honest mistakes. I’ll cry a lot, wail my tonsils out. I’ll need help, a lot of it. I’ll need mothers, babysitters, mentors, people who will understand…and from time to time, I might need help getting myself out of sh*t I’ve gotten myself into.

Speaking of sh*t, I’ll start off by saying, two weeks pa lang ako sa work, nagka-medication error na ako. Paksh*t, wrong timing ang medication na nabigay ko. Ako na ang tanga. Hay. The timing of the medication I gave was endorsed to me by the outgoing senior nurse who handled the patient, and I believed the timing he endorsed without double checking it with the pharmacist on duty. Akala ko kasi talaga yun na ang adjusted timing for administering the medication dahil hindi sa standard time nastart ang drug. Pinacheck ko naman yun sa charge nurse bago ko binigay. But still, an error is an error. I can’t take it back anymore and I don’t want to make excuses. Kasalanan ko naman talaga kasi hindi ko muna vinerify sa pharmacist ang endorsed timing ng medication. Buti na lang topical medication lang yun at hindi IV. Goodness, ikamamatay ko kung IV yun. Gaaaaaad.

Nonetheless, kahit topical medication lang yun at wala namang adverse reaction ang patient, as I’ve said, an error is an error. I don’t want to detail what happened here because this is most certainly not the right venue for that; hindi ito incident report. Suffice it to say na nagkamali ako, period. May investigation pa daw kung ano ang gagawin sakin, at may discussion pa, and all that. Syempre big deal eto kasi probie pa lang aketch at mahigpit dw ngayon ang kataas-taasang hukuman ng division of nursing namin sa mga probie na nagkaka-medication error. Most medication errors daw kasi, kagagawan ng mga baguhan. Err, just want to raise a point here, by the way. Bakit ang labas ng impression ay, “Ke bago-bago nyo pa lang, nagkaka-error na kayo,” at mas mabigat ang effect sa amin? Shouldn’t it be the other way around—nga kaya nga kami ang ngkaka-error, kasi bago pa lang kami?

Staff Nurse on Duty: The First 3 Days

Okay, so I’ve been through 3 days of duty. *frantically feels entire body*

OMG, I’m still in one piece! *does happy dance*

Day 1. AM shift.

I had to resist being defeated again by the agonizing fears and crippling worries that have invaded my being for the past weeks. I steeled myself from it all as much as I can, to the point that I almost felt like it was a different me getting up, having breakfast, dressing up, walking to the bundy clock, and going through those doors to the unit. I felt like I had some sort of a chest armor on, strengthened by my renewed faith that God will carry me through whatever comes along, and empowered by the fierce desire to once and for all get the most difficult day—the first day—over and done with.

When I saw in the posting that I was assigned only 2 patients for the day because it was my first day of duty, I was SUPER relieved. At least I still had time to get the feel of things again after more than 3 weeks of not going on duty. Aside from having to facilitate an IV reinsertion for one of my patients, nothing much happened during duty. The load was of course light, and I was able to eat lunch ‘round the middle of the shift. By 3pm, I was done with everything and out the door breathing a deep sigh of relief.

I was thankful that nothing majorly distressing happened on my very first day of duty as a staff nurse, but nonetheless I knew that the real test would begin once I handled the regular number of patients a staff nurse is assigned.

Day 2. PM shift, or so I thought

6:40AM. My ringing phone woke me up. With my half-opened eyes, I saw that it was the unit calling. I hesitated. Seeing your unit calling you early in the morning could only be a bad omen.

After I answered it, I heard the 3 worst possible words I could hear that moment: 
“Duty ka ngayon.”

MAJOR OMG. Nabago na pala ang schedule. 6am pala duty ko, hindi 2pm. 
Shet, shet, shet.

Of Thunderstorms and Faith

After 4 days of hospital confinement and a week of advised rest at home, it was time for me to face reality once more and fly back to Manila to finish my training. My mother was hesitant to let me go back to training, reasoning that I don’t know how to take care of myself properly when I’m away from home. I too was not all that willing to go back to living alone, to living the life of a nurse, but for some reason I could not bear letting go just like that. I was a crazy brew of contradictions—I felt like I lacked the willpower to live the difficult life of a nurse, yet I was also not willing enough to give up on it and let the opportunity pass. I was in a difficult place but at the back of my mind, I knew that I just had to go back.

So still with a heavy heart and a doubtful mind, I went back on duty. I continued fighting it out with myself during those last 4 days of duty, and I counted down the days until, after what seemed like an eternity, it was finally over. It’s ironic how I sooo longed for my training duty days to be over, when, after those days I would be expected to sign a 3-year contract as a staff nurse—READ: duty days for the next 1,095 days.