Yeah, I know. “You and everyone else! You really expect me to keep up with another freaking blog?” Well, to put it bluntly, no. I really don’t expect anyone, anwhere to ever read this. And I don’t blame them. As a matter of fact, I’m going to write this blog with the intention that no one will ever read it. Yes, I think that will help keep me honest. And lower my inhibitions. Like drinking.
So, anyway, a little background about me. I am a registered nurse. I am uniquely inexperienced. I finished nursing school a few months ago. Hooray! Best day of my life, next to passing the NCLEX!
Before I started nursing school, I floundered through 6 years of college, majoring in psychology for a little while, dropping out, taking classes, dropping out. You know the routine. But finally I decided that I had to buckle down, and 2 years later, here I am. Also, before I started nursing school, I had never, ever set foot in a hospital. Except for that time that my mom gave birth to me, that is. I had no idea what a nurse did, except that they “helped take care of people.” And that’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to help people and take care of them.
I thought that being a nurse, you know, I’d be brushing peoples’ hair and bringing them chicken noodle soup, sappy stuff like that. You know, being nice to people. Helping them. Taking care of them. Let me tell you, right here, right now: THAT’S NOT WHAT THEY DO. They do some of the most horrifying, painful, and embarrassing things to people that you can imagine. Well, that might be an exaggeration, but it’s not totally off the mark. Being a nurse is one of the most unglamorous, unappreciated, and downright disgusting professions in the world. I mean, it pays well, there’s lots of perks, and people respect a nurse. But it will humble you.
I talk about poop. A lot. Us nurses literally sit around, talking about poop, for hours on end. Pooping is critical to a persons hospital stay. It’s important. On my unit, you almost have to poop before you go home. Not pooping will keep you in the hospital longer than you need to be. Have you ever encouraged a full-grown adult to try and poop before? Until a month ago, neither had I. Now I do it several times a week. No, I’m being nice. I don’t just encourage them. I threaten them with suppositories and enemas if they don’t poop. If you think about it, it seems ironic that the way to get something to come out of a person’s butt is to shove something in to a person’s butt.
Really, I am very concerned about any sort of fluid that comes out of your body. Took a piss? I need to see and measure that. Did you just blow chunks? Yep, I gotta see what it looks like. Is your incision draining pus and blood? You guessed it… lemme see. Like I said, not exactly glamorous.
Well, I think I’ve just made sure that, if anyone did stop by and read this, I’ve successfully sent them screaming and running away. Sorry about that. But this blog is for me to vent about my life, and especially being a nurse. I have to act happy and upbeat all day, and pretend that what I’m doing isn’t horrifying and bizarre. But it is! Not to say it isn’t rewarding to see someone go from not being able to move from the neck down, to walking out of the hospital on their own two feet. It’s a wonderful feeling knowing you had a part in that. But… it’s gross, too.
Bye, for now! Stay happy, and healthy!
0 comments:
Post a Comment