HANDLE THAT.
I really don't think I can do this. I am NOT a nurse. I feel like
a second grader on move up day; the day where for one day you got to
try out being a third grader. They give you division and
multiplication problems and ask you to write haiku poems; things
you've never done before. Inside your little challenged mind you
think, "oh I want the teacher to like me, I want to succeed here, I
want to be able to be this...but I really don't think I can do this."
Last night I worked a shift called "night shift." Maybe they
should call it, "eternity long shift," because it goes from 3pm to 8
am. I worked with another nurse named Augustan 2. He is truly
awesome. But right now he is sick. I don't think he ever got rid
of malaria the last time he had it. He was vomiting all last night
and couldn't help me work. I asked him not to go home though
because I can't be the only one at the hospital....I need someone to
ask medicine questions to, to receive emergency patients, and to just
be there. He stayed and slept in the delivery room. As he shut the
door behind him, I stood in the hall of the Isolation and Maternity
wards thinking, "I really don't think I can do this." The wards are
so full right now because it is right after the rice season and
everyone is 'rich'. Isolation. Completely full. Maternity. No room
left. Pediatrics. Not a bed open. Women's Ward. Overflowing. Men's
Ward. Surgery patience galore.
I had come at three o'clock thinking I'd have a break to run home
and get blankets and my light and eat supper. Somehow we found no
time for leaving. This kids blood transfusion clotted off. This
baby needs Diazapam because it's convulsing. This baby's IV is so
infiltrated it has a little balloon of water stored under his
skin. Start the IV for woman in the ER. Give the meds for 6
o'clock. Take the temps of any critical babies. Run back and forth
between wards. That's all there's time for now.
So I never got to go home. My family was so sweet and when I
didn't make it home, they showed up with a cute little pot of this
oil pasta.
a second grader on move up day; the day where for one day you got to
try out being a third grader. They give you division and
multiplication problems and ask you to write haiku poems; things
you've never done before. Inside your little challenged mind you
think, "oh I want the teacher to like me, I want to succeed here, I
want to be able to be this...but I really don't think I can do this."
Last night I worked a shift called "night shift." Maybe they
should call it, "eternity long shift," because it goes from 3pm to 8
am. I worked with another nurse named Augustan 2. He is truly
awesome. But right now he is sick. I don't think he ever got rid
of malaria the last time he had it. He was vomiting all last night
and couldn't help me work. I asked him not to go home though
because I can't be the only one at the hospital....I need someone to
ask medicine questions to, to receive emergency patients, and to just
be there. He stayed and slept in the delivery room. As he shut the
door behind him, I stood in the hall of the Isolation and Maternity
wards thinking, "I really don't think I can do this." The wards are
so full right now because it is right after the rice season and
everyone is 'rich'. Isolation. Completely full. Maternity. No room
left. Pediatrics. Not a bed open. Women's Ward. Overflowing. Men's
Ward. Surgery patience galore.
I had come at three o'clock thinking I'd have a break to run home
and get blankets and my light and eat supper. Somehow we found no
time for leaving. This kids blood transfusion clotted off. This
baby needs Diazapam because it's convulsing. This baby's IV is so
infiltrated it has a little balloon of water stored under his
skin. Start the IV for woman in the ER. Give the meds for 6
o'clock. Take the temps of any critical babies. Run back and forth
between wards. That's all there's time for now.
So I never got to go home. My family was so sweet and when I
didn't make it home, they showed up with a cute little pot of this
oil pasta.
At about 10:30 pm I thought I couldn't do this all by myself. I
hit rock-bottom and I've decided that was the best thing for me right
then because when you bounce a basketball on hard ground it bounces
back. If you don't hit hard, you'll just drag the rest of the
night. I had a good little session of
prayer/star-gazing/remembering how all these things turn out
fine/positive self talk (thanks Janet...health psych) and said to
myself, "buck-up Emily. tough it out. go-get-em!" :) I give God's
presence, through his stars, the beautiful praise music (that was
for some reason still playing over the hospital's make-shift sound
system), and the bugs (that reminded me I was in Africa and this is
an amazing opportunity), the credit for my surge of energy. The
night was still long. I had a million meds to give between eleven
and one. But at one thirty I laid down for a rest outside of the ER.
I can never wait for the sun to come back in the morning. It is so
lonely because the patients sleep so soundly. I tried waking one
little girl up for her midnight breathing treatment and her mom only
rolled over and said she didn't have any of the medicines left. I
stood there waving the medicines infront of her face and said that I
knew she was tired but we needed to give her daughter the
treatment. When the Africans sleep, they sleep hard. The patients
who don't sleep are the ones who are crying or in so much pain they
can just lay there or sit up in bed in silence. It's eerie and I
always look forward to morning.
At four-thirty I went around and gave all the other meds. Still
pitch black. My battery from my phone was running low from it's
substitute job as flashlight all night long. But the light creeped
up and I got a this really peaceful feeling. I had told myself I
would praise God when I saw the morning light. I look back on it
now and realize I should not have waited. I should have praised him
at 10:30. At rock bottom. Because rock bottom is what sends me
up....sends me sky high. Rock bottom makes us different
people. Stronger, more God dependent people. Augustan needs IV
fluids I'm pretty sure. He can't have anymore fluid left in him.
God never gives us more than we can handle.
hit rock-bottom and I've decided that was the best thing for me right
then because when you bounce a basketball on hard ground it bounces
back. If you don't hit hard, you'll just drag the rest of the
night. I had a good little session of
prayer/star-gazing/remembering how all these things turn out
fine/positive self talk (thanks Janet...health psych) and said to
myself, "buck-up Emily. tough it out. go-get-em!" :) I give God's
presence, through his stars, the beautiful praise music (that was
for some reason still playing over the hospital's make-shift sound
system), and the bugs (that reminded me I was in Africa and this is
an amazing opportunity), the credit for my surge of energy. The
night was still long. I had a million meds to give between eleven
and one. But at one thirty I laid down for a rest outside of the ER.
I can never wait for the sun to come back in the morning. It is so
lonely because the patients sleep so soundly. I tried waking one
little girl up for her midnight breathing treatment and her mom only
rolled over and said she didn't have any of the medicines left. I
stood there waving the medicines infront of her face and said that I
knew she was tired but we needed to give her daughter the
treatment. When the Africans sleep, they sleep hard. The patients
who don't sleep are the ones who are crying or in so much pain they
can just lay there or sit up in bed in silence. It's eerie and I
always look forward to morning.
At four-thirty I went around and gave all the other meds. Still
pitch black. My battery from my phone was running low from it's
substitute job as flashlight all night long. But the light creeped
up and I got a this really peaceful feeling. I had told myself I
would praise God when I saw the morning light. I look back on it
now and realize I should not have waited. I should have praised him
at 10:30. At rock bottom. Because rock bottom is what sends me
up....sends me sky high. Rock bottom makes us different
people. Stronger, more God dependent people. Augustan needs IV
fluids I'm pretty sure. He can't have anymore fluid left in him.
God never gives us more than we can handle.
1 comment:
Emily...this is Heather Haynes - we played together as little kids - Roger Woodruff's niece. Anyway, whether you remember me or not I have to tell you how much your blog blessed my soul. I was sitting in the SAU library after my long first day of nursing class feeling scared...thinking maybe I never would make it as a nurse. It all felt so over-whelming. My desire to do mission nursing was what got me into nursing in the first place and now I was questioning whether I had what it took. Then I randomly ran across your blog. As I read I began thinking you were this amazing wonder-woman nurse...the person I never could be... but then I read this blog about how you questioned yourself and felt inadequate. I can't express how much I was encouraged and inspired by it. Thank you Emily - sometimes you may think writing a blog is fairly insignificant but your sharing has changed my life.
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