Nursing 101 (Part 11)

When you answer your phone like this: 

"Neuro ICU, this is Jessie." 

But you're driving in your car, and you're not at work, and you're talking to your BFF in the next time zone over. 

#nursingproblems #embarrassing

Nursing 101 (Part 10)

Some days, I can't see myself working in the NSICU forever. And then there are moments like this, and I can't imgaine working anywhere else.

In the morning, before rounds, the nurse practitioners visit each of their assigned patients. Yesterday Lindsay (my favorite NP) and I were in my patient's room to do his Neuro Assessment. He's a sassy older gentleman and he teases and jokes with us throughout the assessment. Then we got to the point in the exam where we test muscle strengths, and our laughter could not be contained:

Lindsay: Can you squeeze my hands?

Patient: I don't want to squeeze your hands. I want to squeeze your body!"

Step Mom? More Like Super Mom.

I am one of the lucky kids that gets to have more than one mom. Some people get the evil stepmother and step sisters. Me? I get the awesome stepmother and ridiculously awesome step sisters.

I've always known my step mom gives good advice, but I haven't always asked her for it. She can read me like an open book even when I'm determined to keep my pages locked up tight. 

I've struggled with my relationship with my biological mother for quite a while. We've both said and done things to distance ourselves from each other. I've been working a lot on myself lately. There has been some major self remodeling and improvement. I talk to my step mom pretty regularly about my progress and current projects. She listens with genuine concern and interest. And her advice often adds a whole new perspective to what I thought was previously so black and white. 

The most recent lesson she taught me was just this week. I explained to her why I was anxious and quite frankly stressed out about seeing my mom while I was in town. I explained the very black reasons why I wanted to see her and the very white reasons of why I didn't want to see her. And then she taught me something.

She explained to me that those feelings were valid. She then proceeded to ask me a couple of questions:

1. Which decision would you regret? (Aka would you have more regret not visiting with your mom while in town or more regret if you didn't). I explained that I felt I'd have regret either way. I couldn't predict what positive or negative interactions might occur between us. And I thought it'd be safer to just avoid the situation entirely.

2. Are you making your decision to see or not see your mom from a vindictive place? Or are you making the decision to see or not see your mom from a loving place? To be completely honest, I had to really ponder my answer. I wasn't sure. There were pieces if me that wanted to be vindictive and plain awful to protect myself from the hurt I've already experienced and from the hurt I was positive would come with our interactions. The other pieces of me yearned for the chance to have a positive experience with my mom and to give us both a chance to attempt another fresh start-- even if it was just baby steps. 

She further explained to me that the boundaries I have set for myself and for my mother don't have to come from a harsh mindset; In fact, I can make every interaction with my mother a loving one. I can always choose to be gentle and honest with her. It's not always easy and she may not always react in a calm or understanding way-- but it can be done. And in the end, I wouldn't feel the shame or guilt from shutting my mom out.

It just clicked.

Here is this woman who has married my father, who my mom really doesn't care for, who has every reason to be undesireable in her dealings with my mom-- and she is teaching me how to love her. 

How incredibly humbling it was to learn this lesson from her. 

I am so lucky to have a stepmother who genuinely cares about my well being and the developmrnt of my character. She really is a Super Mom. And I'm so glad I get to call her mine.

Mind Blown

Story of my life. 

**there are no words fit for the title of this post

As a nurse, I often feel spread thin. 

I do EVERYTHING that I can to ensure that I have given my patient the best possible care. If it means putting lunch off, holding my bladder, or biting my tongue, I do it. Most recently I have worked with a variety of patients who don't even think to say "please" or "thank you".  Some days I just want to pull out my hair or make a snide remark like: "This isn't a freaking five-star resort". 

Of course I bite my tongue. 

The other portion of patients I care for are the ones that take a piece of my heart with them, and leave a piece of theirs with me. I recieved a message from the family of one of the patients I cared for a couple months back. To be completely honest with you, I've thought of this woman and her family often. But I never thought that they'd remember me. I want to remember it, so I'm writing it down (like Lauren said to do) for the days that I feel like I just can't be a nurse anymore. And I'm sharing it with you (Yes I am aware there are typos, but I couldn't bring myself to change them because it wasn't written by me). Here it is: 

"Jessie-not sure if you remember me or not, but you took care of my precious Mom back in September...she was the one that invited you to thanksgiving dinner (C.S.). My Momma was called home this morning and is now in heaven I just wanted to thank you for everything you did and were in those days spend in the icu. I know you brought light to my mom's world and that was something she needed especially in those first days. I truly cannot thank you enough for your professionalism, excellent care, and simply going above and beyond what we have ever seen a nurse do!" --J.S. 

I sobbed.

I kept thinking about how much more I could have done as her nurse. I have the sacred responsibility of caring for God's children in their most vulnerable moments. When they are scared. When there are no answers. When their lives change forever. When their bodies betray them. When their minds are lost. When they can't care for themselves. And when their families grieve for the loss of the person their family member used to be. They look to us as healthcare professionals to make things right.

I didn't know whether to curse God for taking such a loving and loveable soul from this world or to find peace in knowing Him and rejoice in His plan of happiness. I didn't know whether to be angry at Him for feeling so much hurt or to run to him with arms wide open so He could succor me. 

In the end, I ran to Him full speed. 

In the end, I begged him for understanding. I begged him for peace. I begged him to comfort the people that loved her. She left this world entirely too quickly. The last 7 weeks have been devastatingly harsh on her mind, body, and soul. And yet, I can't be angry, because I know she is whole and revived and walking with God. And one day we'll be there too. I don't always understand why things happen the way they do. My lens only shows so much of the picture. But I know the Lord can see the big picture. And sometimes, all I can do is trust in Him and know that one day everything will be made right. 

Days of Gratitude

I'm grateful for:

   1. My marked up, worn out, scriptures

   2. Puppy kisses, snuggles, and eyebrows

   3. Dr. Pepper

   4. My job

   5. My anything but ordinary dad and step-mom and my crazy siblings

   6. Crunchy leaves and short little dachshund legs

   7. Potatoes.

   8. Coloring books and crayola crayons

   9. Teaching in the cadaver lab at BYU and Anatomy Academy to elementary school kids

   10. Foley Catheters

   11. The Temple

   12. Running Water

   13. Little feet that run to greet you, and little hands that reach up for hugs. 

   14. FRIENDS

   15. Sundays

   16. The Fish Family

   17. Therapy

   18. My Little Brother

   19. God's Love

   20. Thunderstorms

   21. Rising Star Outreach

   22. The ability to learn

   23. Little brothers who have patience to teach me how to play FIFA.

   24. Family nights with enough laughter to give you an ab workout

   25. The atonement of Jesus Christ

   26. NERTZ 

   27. My bed

   28. My co-workers

   29. My Nurse Mentors

   30. Legs that work so that I can run

Dopplegangers

#twins

What Can You Do

when the roles change

when there's nothing you can do

when it's out of your hands

completely

how do you cope

how do you sit with it

how do you do nothing

knowing what you know

wait for answers?

the unknown is a scary thing

Do the feelings of helplessness leave on their own or does it require force?

when your family member is the patient

when you become the patient family

when you're 2,000 miles away

everything you know means nothing

when the roles change

you might as well have never learned at all

so i'll try to be still, sit with it, and wait for more news. i'll let the anxiety come in like crashing waves and slowly draw back again. 

what can you do when the roles change

Nursing 101 (part 9)

You know you're a nurse when what attracts you to a man is their veins. 

And if they're nice enough to stick without a tournequet, he's definitely a keeper.

A Silly Thing Called Change

I was talking with a dear friend recently. About change.

How it's scary and nerve wrecking-- especially for people "like us" who thrive in an environment where we can make a plan, execute the plan, and everything is predictable. Big changes are especially scary. The ones where you make a big life decision like: who you're going to marry, taking a job on the opposite side of the country, or deciding where to go to college.

One of the quotes change reminds me of is by C.S. Lewis. It goes a little something like this:

"Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes into rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what he is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you know these jobs needed doing and you are not suprised. But presently he starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominally and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is he up to? The explanation is that he is building quite a different house than you thought of-- throwing out a new wing here, putting an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were building a decent little cottage, but he is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it himself." 

It's a bit silly how often I confide in God how I have my life planned out. Down to the little details. Sometimes I can picture him laughing at me, like my own father would, shaking his head with an all knowing grin. He does have bigger plans for me. Bigger plans than I can imagine. He knows me better than I know myself. I've learned this many times before, and this time won't be the last time I relearn it.

The truth is: nothing stays the same. Except God.

I've been learning to accept it. Change is always happening. It doesn't occur overnight. You don't celebrate your 6th birthday and wake up the next day with 5 grandkids and 2 granddogs. There are little changes happening daily. Hourly even. It's so subtle, you look back on the last five years and tell yourself you're such a different person. And it's true. And yesterday you met people who shaped you, shared experiences with you, and taught you-- whether profoundly or not. In retrospect-- life looks so short. You're not the same person today as you were yesterday. And you'll change more today. Tomorrow too. We were made to progress. Change is part of the process of becoming. It's part of the human experience. Look how beautiful life is with its color.

So bring on the change. Basque in its glory. And let God stay constant. 

A New Perspective

Nothing God asks of us benefits God. God asks things of us so that we may grow, that we may experience joy, and that we can hold within us the Spirit of God to allow us greater guidance, reassurance, and peace. 

When I Grow Up

Growing up, I always wanted to be like the older and "cooler" kids. I didn't realize that the coolest kid was my little sister. I've spent so much if my life trying to be different than her. Being so close in age we liked so many of the same things and looked so much alike. We still look so much like each other. Now all I really want to be when I grow up is someone just like her.

Nursing 101 (Part 8)

When you go to irrigate your patient's foley catheter and you leave the room wearing diluted urine water on your face and the rest of your person. 

Yes. This happened.

Wear your PPE fellow nurses! 😂

Lightbulb (?) Moment.

For a very long time, I've known I wanted to be a nurse. I remember my failed attempt to get into my program and my victory. I remember working so hard to make my dream come true. 

I also remember Ms. Wiley, one of my advisement coaches. She lent me a book that had pages upon pages of the different fields of nursing. I took it home eager to read through it and discover exactly what kind of nurse I wanted to be. Then my eyes swept across the title: 

Flight Nurse. 

I was sold: Emergency medicine, in a helicopter, adrenaline rush, real life saving. I'd be saving lives and working miracles. Wait is this my real life? 

I have met some really good role models like Janie and Susie who are also flight nurses. It's a long road to get where they are and it starts with experience in an ICU, emergency medicine, and many, many certifications. 

Flight nurses legit know their shiz.
They have to. 

My critical care clinical rotation in the ICUs at the UofU only solidified my deep passion to be a flight nurse. I had a phenomenal instructor: Liz. I was learning and thriving and soaking everything in that she could possibly teach me. I knew my goal was lofty. I was going to earn my wings, save lives, and make a difference. 

But I'm realizing more and more that with all this work in an actual ICU, I see more death than I see life saving. Sure there are miracles and many people go home with minor deficits. Some go home after extensive rehab and their lives are changed drastically. But there's a good portion of the population that I care for that aren't as lucky. They die. There's nothing more we can do. After throwing the kitchen sink at them, I'm merely the means that keeps a family member alive on machines and harsh medications until the family can say a proper goodbye. I just prolong their life, if I can. And when it's time to go, I bathe them, reassure them that I'm going to take good care of their family and their body, and give them warm blankets so that they can graduate this life with dignity.

I'm a nurse.

I don't save lives.
And you know what? It's hard to accept that. It's hard to believe that I worked so hard to be where I am with the goal in mind that I would save lives, and that this is what the reality of my job is. But I have a sacred privilege to be my Brother's Keeper when some of life's hardest moments are present and/or ever looming near. 

I told Liz, my mentor, about my lightbulb (?) moment. She replied with a quote from Spencer W. Kimball. It states: "Death is a natural part of life, as is birth, and heroic efforts to prolong life are neither necessary nor expected." 

And so I left that to simmer. 

Nursing 101 (Part 7)

Sounds just about right.

Tender Mercies Part Five: The Nashville Skyline

There's a part of my drive to work every morning that takes my breath away.

I see it when I hit 10th avenue. I come up over this hill and as I reach the top, the Nashville skyline appears like magic.

And just like that I remember that I'm in Nashville. I'm 1500 miles away from home. I'm making my dreams come true. I get to do what I love for a living. I get to save lives.

Thanks be to God for the amazing life I live. And for the peace and graditude I feel every time I hit 10th avenue. I know I'm where I am supposed to be. 

Nursing 101 (Part 6)

You know you're a nurse when:

It's been two days since I've worked a shift in a hospital, and I can still hear the alarms; heart monitors, oxygen saturation monitors, blood pressure monitors, alaris pumps, ventilators, feeding pumps, my work cell phone, bed alarms, CRRT, SCD pumps, call lights, you name it. 

On My Own

Today I worked my first full shift on my own without a preceptor. It felt good to put everything I had learned into practice. I also had a chance to witness something beautiful, and I want to record it. 

This past week that I've worked, we have withdrawn care on 5 patients that I have cared for. Withdrawing care means "pull the plug" or "comfort measures". Most patients we withdraw on are intubated with a machine called a ventilator to help them breathe and heavily medicated with drugs called vasopressors to keep their heart beating. When we withdraw, we take out all unecessary tubes and machines and turn off IV medications with the exception of pain medications. And then within minutes, hours, or sometimes days our patient dies.

Today I was reminded of the beauty that can be seen in my profession. The older woman I was caring for was admitted for a stroke. It messed with her memory quite a bit. She was blind and hard of hearing. Her granddaughter flew in from Europe to see her. They hadn't seen each other in two years. 

I walked the woman to the waiting room with her walker, and helped her into a comfortable position. The woman's daughter smiled and cried as she explained to the woman that she had special visitors. Then the granddaughter  spoke. "It's me, Grandma."

The woman's face lit up,  and she reached up to cup her grandaughter's face in her hands. She knew her granddaughter. It was like a spark lit inside of her and she had become the woman she was before; sharp, witty, and ever so lovely. I want to remember that feeling. The feeling of coming home. The happy tears that can be shed as a nurse as opposed to the sorrowful ones with tender goodbyes and good intentions. 

It felt good to do good and to be a part of such a heart warming moment. My heart grew today. It grows every day. But today it grew just a little bit more.

Tender Mercies Part Four

There's something beautiful about the power of thunderstorms in Tennessee. The sky lights up like Fantasmic. It flashes brilliant shades of purple across the sunrise like a red carpet paparazzi. The thunder bellows deep and low-- and it seems like one roll of thunder sneakily rolls into the next. And the rain. The windshield wipers of the bus can't keep up with the down pour. 

I've long been terrified of the lights and sounds of severe mthunderstorms. They're so much more intense than simple rain. But today I watched in awe and wonder as God put on a light show like children Christmas light watching in December. It's brilliant and beautiful. 

How lucky I am to know The Maker and for the gift of sight He has given me to marvel at His creations and power. I am so blessed.

Bus Conversations

Today I overheard two old friends greet each other on the morning bus. It went like this:

"Hi Veera, how are you this mornin'?"

"Blessed, friend, very blessed."

I need to think more like Veera. I'm grateful I ride the bus to work with her, and many other people. The smallest of interactions can be powerful reminders. 

And also, bus riding is great for people watching. 

Weight of the World

March 8, 2015

Today I got a taste of the depth and weight of my job.

My role is critical.

Today someone learns their brain tumor is benign or they learn it's malignant, inoperable, and terminal. Today someone's mother loses a child, a daughter loses her dad, someone loses a sister, a best friend, a son-- something so life altering and unthinkable, yet it's a common occurrence here.

They come and plead, " Doctor, fix me, please. Doctor, please tell me what's wrong with me. " And some never leave the hospital again. Some get a second chance at life with minimal complications. Some lose their legs, an arm and a leg, their senses, their minds, and some lose their lives. They're hooked up to machines that breathe for them, pump for them, machines that even act like their own kidney. Some walk in with a headache, and become an organ donor within days. This work has weight.

I am the hands that care for these people. For the one moving to the next life, and for the loved ones left behind. The veil is very thin, and Heaven's Angels reside very close by.

I witness the worst day of someones life every day I walk into work. My job is hard. My job is physically and emotionally taxing. They didn't teach us how to work through this in nursing school. 

What an honor it is to be the Hands and Heart that care for the Lord's children in their hour of need. The load is heavy. But I know the work I do is important. I'm so grateful to be here. 

Nurse Resident Orientation Day Three (Nashville Tennessee)

Today was day three.
I'm learning a ton, but I'm finding I know a lot as well.
I recognize some things, and others seem past my understanding.
But mostly I'm learning,
and I'm soaking it all up like a sponge.
I'm meeting new people--I can tell they're good people.
We're in for the long haul together.
I'm grateful for them.
I caught myself losing interest today,
like I'd decided that I was too good for orientation.
For wounds and ostomies
For the professionals that prepared their presentations.
For my peers surrounding me in that old gym.
And I corrected myself.
Thank Goodness.
This is the good thing about nursing:
There is always more to learn.
I have potential, and that potential continues to grow.
This opportunity is Gold.
I have the chance to work among the best,
to learn from the best,
to become like the best.
They really want me to succeed,
and I really want them to see that happen.
Just like BYU prepared me for this moment,
Vanderbilt will prepare me for the next.
There are no limits.
Only possibilities. 

The NCLEX: #MostEmbarrassingMoment

On Groundhog's Day, Kendra and I took the NCLEX. It's the nursing exam of death. An exam like nothing else we've taken before. We studied daily for months with the exception of Sundays. The night before the exam, we stayed the night at Kendra's place. And lets just say I broke the ice. Im pretty sure it was my most embarrassing moment yet. It went a little something like this:

After arriving at Kendra's house I went upstairs to change into my jammies and out of my church clothes. It was late, and I was tired and nervous and uncomfortable. As I walked down her steep staircase I found myself flying and shrieking and really quite surprised -- and still in this very moment I don't know how I flew-- but I had a rough landing. My rump hit one step, two steps, three steps-- I flew again and lost track of the steps as I skidded to a stop. The world slowed for a split second as I caught my breath. Kendra ran around the corner to see the sight-- and we both busted up, doubled over in laughter. 

Or in Kendra's words:

"I waited anxiously for Jessie to join me downstairs so we could snuggle together in our comfy pajamas. Out of nowhere I suddenly heard a shriek and pounding like a herd of elephants coming down the stairs. I whipped my head towards the sound  just in time to see Jessie hit the last couple of stairs while suspended in a semi-fowlers position. Of course the polite thing to do to a guest would be to make sure she was okay while helping her up and trying to alleviate the awkwardness. But I, being the thoughtful caring person I am, ran over and fell on the stairs next to her laughing hysterically with little regard to her emotional or physical condition. These are the events that will ever be remembered as preceding the dreaded day of our NCLEX exam."

And we both passed. 

We're both Registered Nurses now!  

New Year: New Adventure

Many of you may already know that I have been offered a position as a Nurse Resident on an ICU floor at a top notch hospital. It's my first grown up job. And it also requires me to move across the country to a place I've never been to. This new year has a lot of firsts for me. It has a lot of unknowns.  But it's also a blank page, a new chapter, and a chance to become even more like the person God is creating me to be.

Although I'm excited for the chapters ahead, I can't help but remember how blessed I am to be here. This is where I found myself. It's where some of my closest friends and I share innumerable memories: nursing humor, life's low points, studying abroad, studying in the library, early morning clinical carpooling, the Healer's Art-- the list is endless.

I'm so grateful to BYU for getting me this far. I'm grateful for the support of friends and family. I'm grateful for the relationships that have developed and the lessons I've learned even if I was resistant to learning at the time. I'm grateful for the chance to attend a University that allows us to welcome the spirit and encourages us to seek its companionship intertwined with our studies. I'm grateful that I was able to learn the Healer's Art with the help of the spirit, because I know the spirit will guide me as I care for God's children. I know I'm well prepared. I know I'm ready.

But it's still hard to go.

This place is home now. It will always be a home away from home. Where people still reside that I care for and love. Where the bell tower still sings at noon. Where the Spirit of God works in the hearts of students and enables them to become their best.

My new adventure starts now, and it's going to be awesome.