It's never as bad as we initially think. Just are required to push through. Last week I made a texting error that I imagine we have all made at some point. I texted to a group text when I should have been texting a private friend.
Yeah
it sucked, but not as bad as it could have. I only stated that a person was clueless as to her new puppy.
Said person immediately texted me privately and said to keep her business out of group text and she now knows where she stands with me.
I totally got it. It hurt her(duh). I apologized, I called, I explained, but honestly, that really wasn't enough and I understand that. This person is young and still quite self centered and they didn't need me talking about their life.
I was in the wrong.
If I hadn't cared I wouldn't have even responded, but I do care about this person. I regret my actions but once trust is lost there is noisy way fix to that, so I need to focus my energy elsewhere. The only thing I can do is stay out of the way and be careful not to express my feelings too loudly.
And that is it.
when you do wrong you can only apologize so many times then you have to move on.
This is not the first time in my 50+ years I have made a mistake, or said some negative things, or even thrown a joke out with a bit too much sarcasm, and I'm sure it won't be the last. But I do try to be aware and I have been trying to be more sensitive.
My upbringing of being the youngest of 12 siblings conditioned me to be spicy. Eight older brothers didn't leave me with room to be soft or unable to defend myself. When I think about what my problems are I often refer to what I learned last year. I can't ask myself what is wrong with me ( I KNOW what is wrong) but the bigger picture is " What happened to me". These things formed the me I am today.
youngest of a large family
alcoholic parents
father with Alzheimers
rape
death of 2 brothers and father within a few years
death of mother
unfaithful partners
divorce
experiencing an OD of a child
suicide attempt by child
illness in family
Covid
PTSD
untimely death of sissy
None of these are an excuse for my sometimes poor behaviors....but they are a reason for some, for the mistrust and negative attitude I sometimes carry with me, and definitely for my cynicism. Every day I learn new things and try to make the effort to be and do better, but I'll be honest, sometimes I slip back to my protected self and throw the walls of mistrust and spice back up. One would think that after 40 some years I would catch myself before it happened.
As I write this, my heart suffers to know that I am not a great person all the time. I'm guessing no one really is. I do know that I care. If I can I will sit by you and hold your hand in a crisis. I will sit at your deathbed if requested. I will be there in any way that I can if you ask....and I do not tend to hold a grudge. Life is too short for that.
I understand if you are busy, or if you have been busy for 7 years....I'll most likely still be here if you need me or want to talk. I'll pick up that conversation right where we left off. I understand if you can't show up, even if you said you would be there....You know why? Because life happens, family happens and usually that stuff is way more important than a meeting at the local bar.
Life happens.
So, It's not that bad, is it? Work is tough right now. Figuring out my place in an environment where I am slightly appreciated but not enough to monetarily compensate me. Realizing that maybe I can't always stay somewhere just because I like most of the people. I, too, need to live and pay my bills and move forward in a direction that fills my needs and not just continue doing something because it's there, it's expected and it's easy.
Also, when work becomes a bit too dramatic for me, I tend to move on. My free time is more important than bringing the dread of work home with me, or to even spend any of my private time thinking about work.
That's where I am right now.
A few good things
friend is coming to visit
off social media this month
been reading
painting
working out
job interviews
re-eval after loss of sissy
It's time to re-evaluate this time period and make a new "list of to do's"
Arriving on Friday afternoon was like walking into the past. Landing in my home town, in which I escaped from so many years ago, held a feeling I didn't realize I had in me.
Home....Old home....history home
I drove the Miracle Strip to my destination
not really worrying about time or distance, and you know what ?
I arrived...
no stress.
That was the last part of my
"stress"
Well, honestly it wasn't stress it was something I am unable to describe....
but it was something.
I'm just going to type what I feel.
Not sugar coat anything for anyone
because, honestly, this is for my heart and a way to sort out feelings
We sat and reminisced , and really did whatever she felt well enough to do.
Would it have been easier if she was literally on her last day? maybe for me.
but I was thankful for this time.
We ate...
and I welcomed that.
She had a rough night....and that made my heart break.
As we talked we discussed life and death and the untimely way it shows up.
She told me she wasn't scared to die anymore.
She had a dream
She dreamt (or not) that she was above her body, she said,
" I was looking down on my body and I wasn't scared. Not at all. I was fascinated....my body was like transparent and I could see every vein in my body...it was glowing the most beautiful blue. Myssi, I wasn't scared. But what did amaze me was that I could feel warmth and comfort. I realized we have one life and we need to love and be the best we can. My body looked so amazing under me...
then as I was looking around, there was a warmth and I swooped back down into my body in the bed.
Thats when it was weird because I wasn't sure if I was actually dead or alive. I knew I needed some water, so I slowly got up and walked to the bathroom to get a sip. I still felt weird so I still wasn't sure what was real or not. the retrieval of water went well in the bathroom so I thought , what the hell, I'm hungry so Im heading to the kitchen for watermelon. By my 5th bite of watermelon I knew I was alive....but what I saw and felt was very real."
"but I'm not scared"
Well, I'm scared.
The reality that we are no longer young and invincible.
We are older and we may not have long to live.
Friends are passing and there is really nothing we can do.
I text her every day.
I look to see if she has turned on her phone.
The past 3 days she turns on her phone and sends this :
I'm guessing this may be the last bit of conversation I have with her.
I have been back a couple of days and have been working on my FEMA tests to become a reservist...
because maybe that is why this all happened...
my mind keeps wandering to my last few days.
Demobilization was just that.
I had 24 hours to say good-bye, clean my room, and get a flight.
I did all three....
alone and with much thought.
My room was left just as I had entered it except for a box of chocolates, 20$ bill, and a thank you note to the cleaning staff that continued to work the "dirty floor" at the Sheraton for us.
it was the least I could do.
I shut the door at 450 am, just like I had been doing for the last 22 days but this time I was heading home.
My stomach rolling with anxiety, and maybe some fear of moving forward, when I really wanted to stay, or at the least move sideways.
{This may be a long post}
The last day at Jacobi Hospital was, as I said, bittersweet. I spent the day saying goodbye to nurses, residents, and doctors, who came around after hearing "Colorado" was leaving today. I teared up every time someone said, thank you....you brought a light that was desperately needed in this area.
I fought for my last 2 patients:
One, to discharge home so that I knew she was safe and also so that I could wheel her out, as I promised I would when she was on 80L of oxygen and I was questioning the sustainability of her life.
and the second: to stay alive ....just stay alive.
All the patients who were directly under my care lived, except for 2, that I am aware of. They were my ICU patients. They were only in my care for a couple of days.
The other ones,
even the one who kept asking if he was going to die....made it out.
Wait, except for Teresa....she is still in.
Mamacita....
she spoke no English and for 20 days we used hand signals and occasional yelling to communicate.
From ventilator to Hiflo oxygen to hopefully home...
here was my day
The two women shared a room, no private rooms in covid central. One a younger social worker who fought like hell everyday to get better, and my job was to keep telling her she was getting out alive.
the other a much older hispanic woman who was slowly giving up on life and everyday I begged her to breathe...to eat the horrible hospital food, and to to move her feet so that she didn't get blood clots and die of that.... opposed to Covid.
For 20 days straight, minus the one day I got floated to another area, I walked into the room and picked up and removed all the garbage ( housekeeping was swamped and short staffed), I emptied and cleaned all bedside commodes, wiped every surface with bleach wipes, made sure Jackie and Teresa got their teeth cleaned, gowns changed, and bed linens changed (even if it meant I had to go to different areas to find what I needed).
every morning...
and every evening before I left...
I did it again.
They came to know I was fighting for them...I wanted the area clean so that they could get well.
If they were able to get to the bedside commode it was required by me...
No one gets to sit in diapers,
they must move to keep the blood flowing and to facilitate breathing.
I "suggested" they prone, or Tummy Time as we called it, and actually made a time frame for when they should do it so that we could check to off our to "do list."
Proning is one of the most effective ways to open the lungs during Covid. It is a proven help.
I wrote my name, date, goals and Dr names on the white boards so that they knew what was going on.
And when I knew what type of food they liked, or would at least try to eat, I would trade other nurses one thing for another and even bring stuff from the hotel or my personal lunch so I knew that they at least got something in their bellies.
Jackie, the younger of the 2 was making wonderful progress, she became the voice for Teresa...updating me every morning to what the night had held and what bullshit might have happened, or setbacks and began to translate for Teresa through the curtain divider.
this became our needed norm.
Teresa at one point took a turn for the worse and oxygen needs went up quickly. I begged her to breathe, and to leave the mask on which she would pull off in her hypoxic state. I sat next to the bed and held the mask to her face and told her she needed to get better...
for her kids and grand kids...
I thought....
she is going to die today...
fuck
I finally pulled open the curtain which separated them and said, "Jackie help me talk to her, please"
and they saw each other for the first time...
I asked Jackie , " please tell her...tell her she needs to breathe, she needs to be on her tummy when I ask and she needs to live...not to give up"
Jackie barked at her in Spanish and something changed....
to me it looked as if being able to see each other they became fighters on the same team.
They were in the battle together.
It took a couple of days but Teresa began to get better.
I was able to get Jackie's Hi Flo machine when she no longer needed it...
I slid it over, got everything together, and set the settings as I had watched the therapists do for the past 2 weeks...then grabbed a respiratory therapist to double check the settings and I put it on Teresa.
This meant no full face mask....she was able to drink water and take a bite of food without her oxygen level dropping to 70%
She could talk on the phone....she could sleep.
I felt like a secret agent hero getting that machine to her without anyone's help.
There were so many doctors rounding I'm sure they just thought one of the other doctors ordered it. I just charted it and kept it maintained and no one asked where it came from .
The day I left,
the doctors were slow to get everything in place for Jackie to discharge to home. She needed an oxygen tank and for some reason they could not get the paper work together.
I called every dr I had come in contact with...
I begged them to send her home...she only needed 1L of oxygen for when she got home and needed to ambulate.
"There are no tanks."
I quietly suggested that she call the insurance and tell them she would purchase her own tank...go around the doctor orders and take care of it herself.
She did...
it worked...
they still wouldn't sign discharge orders so she left Against Medical Advice and I wheeled her out to her car and her husband she had not seen in more than a month.
When she got home she texted me pictures of her new Oxygen tank, an oximeter, and correspondence with her insurance that it would all be taken care of.
Yes! Home
(she changed my life)
Before she had left, Teresa realized she was going to be alone and begged for me to get her home too...before Mother's Day
She cried and cried and Jackie kept telling me she wants to go home for Mothers Day...it is a huge deal.
she can't...she is not ready.
I cried too...
I cried because it was my last day and I didn't get her out....
I went to my google app and translated to Spanish:
You will get better
You will see your family
You are strong
and You are my heart
so please, keep breathing...
today is my last day but you are going to be ok
I can promise you that
I asked Jackie to help me get her granddaughters phone number, which she did and I was able to find her on Face Book, contact her, and tell her who I was and that her Abuela needed them...and we would like to face time.
she said give me 5 minutes and call me back.
I took the letter I wrote to Teresa ...she read it, cried, grabbed me and hugged me so tight( which we are Not supposed to do) folded the letter up kissed it and put it where her bra would be if she was wearing something other than a hospital gown.
Then I showed her my phone
and hit the dial button.
Up popped her family...and the screaming and crying began.
She had not seen them in over 37 days
they cried and cried and we said hello and laughed and I gave her the phone with a battery charger from Nurse Chuck and told her to take her time...
2 hours later...she handed me the phone and kissed my hands.
before I left that evening,
Nurse Chuck and Nurse Ivey came in the quiet room where Teresa was, now without a roommate, and soon to be without her nurse...
and we promised she would get to FaceTime again on Mother's Day
That was Wednesday
Sunday afternoon I received texts from Ivey and Chuck that the FaceTime would start at 11 rain or shine.
people are good
I sent her a video to Ivey's phone saying
Feliz dia de la Madre
Mi Amore
Ivey said Teresa watched it about 10 times and kissed my face on her phone, held it to her heart and cried.
I'm going to miss her
I do miss her
and I actually ask about her every morning....
I send a text " what's the oxygen"
and they just answer with a number and a thumbs up.
When I got home the first random message I got was from a lady stating that they heard the nurses were killing patients....letting them die. That they weren't treating them with medication,
that no one gave a shit....
that the old and weary got left to die so that someone else could get the equipment....
that people were working above their knowledge base which in turn was for sure doing damage.
I cried when I got that text...
I cried because yes....everyone was working above their knowledge base...there is no treatment for Covid except ventilator, vitamin C, Zinc. proning, and luck...We did not do compressions when someone coded....because it spreads the virus everywhere and it wasn't safe...but that didn't mean we weren't trying. We all did are best and many are still there, still cleaning up and continuing to finish their job in NYC.
all I can say is, wear your mask...
take your vitamins,
and know that there will always be a nurse to care for you
I sat outside and texted a few people in hopes of being rescued from my own mind.
I was reminded that I was strong and that it wasn't much longer...
and I know that.
I know that
I know
I want to go home.
but then I think of how wonderful this has been
escaping the pain of my home life and troubles,
in an area where people do not know me,
but everyone appreciates me...
our jobs keep us so busy that there really is no time for heart hurting pain
or the fact that we are doing some crazy ass nursing shit
we just keep moving
the days are irrelevant and the biggest thing of the day is what you are ordering for dinner
and if someone will steal it from the food delivery area or not.
I got lost almost every day for a week at Jacobi...
These staff nurses made the days ok...
they were hard asses but I got used to the NY yelling and the weird sense of humor
they made us feel like family
How will I ever stop calling everyone Mommy and Papi
(it's a Bronx thing)
Take a minute.
smiling underneath
It's soooo hot in those stupid gowns.
Every room we walk into or come out of we have to don and doff...
every time.
all of that comes off and goes in garbage then you put it on again.
it takes a minute....
when someone is coding (dying) it seems to take 30 minutes to get it on properly
I look at this everyday and wonder what the theme was
These two...Jack and Jenna...
they aren't a couple but were inseparable ....
So weird to see them without masks.
They look awesome, never would have guessed
still empty. March 1, 2020
Lots of bridges and I couldn't figure out which was which but they were cool
every one in a while there were donuts from someone.
Covid donuts...
but the nurses we are, we ate them
He started filming the bus ride in slow mo....phone taped to the window.
He got left once at Jacobi , because his patient coded at shift change and we didn't all know each other yet....after that we always yelled " Is Brandon here?"
Chuck...
Southern as all get out and came from Pediatrics. He learned how to wipe adult ass and he successfully changed his first bedpan ever, We all cheered and wrote "I changed my first bedpan!" on the back of his gown
We tried to stay perky
renegade Flower Arrangements in the NYC garbage cans...
better than wasting all that beauty
Jordan
another Colorado nurse
I need to figure out that face...
I saw it all over
I can’t take as many pictures as I would like of the situation I find pertinent, although I have snapped a few. My feet hurt, my heart hurts , but not as much as these people losing life and loved ones. It seems for every celebration of an extubation, 3 will die.
But yet we still must celebrate .... we must.
We are working too hard to not. Everyday I go back to my hotel and shower like my life depends on it, sleep, and then do it all over again.
I will never hear this song and not think about Jacobi
and how it was played every time they successfully
got a patient off the ventilator
( with covid, 75% of the people die if they were intubated)
so when we hear this.
we cheer, no matter what
because we are cheering not just for the life,
but for the work we all did,
for the breath they breathe on their own,
and for their family who is not there to see that fight
