jean.

"83 year old caucasian female status post motor vehicle accident. L rib fracture, L clavicle fracture, L knee fracture, L tibula/fibula fracture, L pneumothorax. Trach size 6, Flexi Flo with Jevity 1.5 running at 55 cc/ hr. Bowel and Bladder incontinent. No foley. She's a keeper"


i never cried for a patient before. Never cried in clinical either. But to 757, i cried my brains out.
You dont meet peoplke everyday that work their hardest. Then again, you dont meet people who are 83 and mistaken the gas for the brake. Its different you know? The older we get the more things seem to be a blur, whereas when we were children, everything was clearcut- black and white.

I felt like no matter what i did for her, things never got to get better. I knew what i had to do however, i felt like i wasnt making a difference. It's not like she was a difficult patient, meaning she wasn't needy, but she was , in fact, needy. She was constantly pooping every 3 seconds and peeing all over herself and i still do not understand why she was not on a foley or that they discontinued her foley.

14 times. i counted. 14 times i had to turn her and change her and wipe her and cause more and more pain to the poor lady. She had an excoriation on her rectum, so everytime i wiped her- it irritated it even more to the point where it started bleeding. So i, like the weak one i normally am, started crying. I couldn't help it. I was frustrated and i wanted to help, but i felt like iwas just making her worse.

After sobbing my eyes out, i spoke to the doctor and he gave me the a ok for the foley. I did it successfully. She kept pooping bit by bit, but we gave ehr a suppository and she was able to rest esy after i left.

The next morning, they told me she was going to acute rehab. That means, she was getting better. I remember coming into her room, and she looked a million times better than yesterday. Still pooping, but smiling. I told her the good news and she told me that she was gonna miss me. She told my teacher that i was gonna be a good nurse. And the staff told my teacher that i am too compassionate at times, but its nice to see that in the newer generations. My teacher relayed that all to me and included " you're too hard on yourself. You beat yourself way too much. Don't worry". Alas, i got her washed, and ready, and bid my goodbye to her. I don't think i'll forget what she taught me. I don't think i'll foget the glasses that probably see into the future and how they magnified her tears when she was in pain. I don't think i'll forget the weak but sweet hug she attempted to give.

I feel lke i lost so much of me, and everyday the more i look at it, i feel like i keep losing touch within myself. Thanks 757, for reminding me that im still there, in some way.


God,
thanks.

april dawn.