Code Blue....

Let me start by saying that I'm happy with the national recognition that the company I work for got in the presidential address. I may have only worked there a year this next month, but I really can tell that it's a brilliant company and that their standards are set high. Sure, everyone has their bad experiences everywhere.... and there are those people that are the exception to the rule. Let's face it, they're everywhere. Seriously... I'm just trying to say the quality of care I've seen with this company has been amazing. And most people I know in the company love what they do.

I'm not just trying to talk about how awesome my job is with this post, (I love it still, by the way). I had a point.

One of my patients went on hospice today. For those that don't know, hospice is for patients that are terminally ill. Terminal as in, terminated. To qualify, they have to be expected to die within the 90 day limit. Three months. And there are people that end up going on hospice and end up living past that mark... Bla bla bla. Most of the time they have an expiration date, but things get used up before then.

Sorry to be so blunt about it... But I'm just trying to give some perspective. And it helps just to get the facts out there quick.

This patient, we'll call him G, is one of the sweetest guys I have ever met. He's older, and I'm not going to talk about what disease he has or any of that. All you need to know right now is that he has been sick for a long time... When I started my training, he was admitted. He has been on that floor for as long as I have. Every day, I have seen him walking the halls with his wife, IV pole, and one of his daughters or some other family member. Someone was almost always there. At night, I would sneak in and get his vital signs, make sure he was comfortable and okay, and tuck him back into bed and let him rest. Remember that dream I mentioned a patient having where I tried to kill him? This was him.

I was in another room, occupied with another patient, when I heard it over the intercom... "Code Blue, West 8, Room ***....."

I knew it was him. I tried to pay no attention to it, because there was nothing I could do at the moment... I heard footsteps running that direction, and I couldn't just leave my patient with what we were doing. He wasn't my patient today. I took a deep breath and continued my work.

I forgot all about it until I heard someone mention his name and that he was coming back and they were putting him on hospice. And I got worried.

His room new room was down by the other patients that I was caring for, so when his family came back up and waited for him, I recognized them. And when the door was closed I knew he had come back. I ran in as fast as I could and put my hand in his.

"Hi G, how are you? Are you feeling okay?"

"Mandy!" He smiled. His face mask kept him from using all of his muscles to stretch his smile all the way, and he gave my hand a squeeze. "I'm ready to die."

He said it so simply, using the same voice he had used to tell me that he didn't need anything else for the rest of the night.

I held his hand a little tighter as he looked into my eyes, and one of his daughters asked me to help set up the suction so he could clean out his mouth. I ran around, trying to find all of the pieces to set up suction for him, and was in and out of the room a lot. But every time I went in, the room was different.

There were more pictures of friends and family slowly being taped up around the room.

More people came in to make sure he was okay.

And more tears were in the eyes of those people.

I finally had the suction set up when he reached for my wrist again.

"What does that say?" He said, weakly, and he turned my wrist to see my tattoo.

"Love is not dead."

He smiled and closed his eyes.

"Sometimes I have to write things on myself so I don't forget them."

And he smiled a little more.

A daughter came and sat on his bed to talk to him, and I found something else to do in the room for a minute. The only part of the conversation I heard him have with her, was that he was ready... and he kept reassuring her that he wasn't scared anymore, and he knew that was his sign that it was time to go.

I found my way out of the room and snuck into a clean utility room so I could take a couple breaths and get myself straightened out before I did anything else. It's hard to disconnect and let it not effect you, but it does sometimes. Patients come in and out of the hospital all the time. I don't know why it hit me so hard.

I made sure to say goodbye to him one last time before I left that day, and told him to be there for me tomorrow so I could come take care of him. And he wouldn't let go of my hand. I couldn't help but smile at his little game. He was always really sweet and always smiled, even though he was in pain. Even though I woke him up through the night. No matter what was going on, he smiled. And he does it still. It amazed me.

During my drive home, the sunset looked brighter. The air smelled sweeter. Everything was more vivid, just like they tell you when you come close to death. Not that I was dying. Not that G is going any time soon... Seeing someone that smiles through extreme pain and sorrow just forces me to appreciate the things I already do a little more than normal.

I hope he's there for me to see tomorrow. He is someone I'll never forget.

false alarms and pain pills... joy

Ow.

That's pretty much what it boils down to.  I have never been in this much pain, and I'm pretty sure I've said that before.  But it's been really bad lately.  I can't work anymore.  But I'm too scared to not work because I don't want to put them in a bad situation and I really could use the money.  But physically?  Working is probably one of the worst ideas for me... currently.

I left work early on Friday.... Yesterday.  It seems like days ago, but it wasn't.  This is what went down....

I was near tears, trying to work as fast as I could, but I was in so much pain I could hardly breathe.  Lunch time finally came, and my mom had ordered me a delicious salad from Costa Vida (delicious!), so I was on my way over to the new building, which is where she works, from the main hospital, which is where I work.  The walk wasn't that long.  Normally it would take me only a couple of minutes to get over there... but yesterday it took me ten before I even got the the elevators leading up to her floor.

There has been this sharp, stabbing pain in my ribs and my back... the baby moves like crazy all the time, and it is so painful.  My joints are all messed up, so walking felt almost impossible because my hips hurt so badly.  Not to mention that I kept getting comments from everyone that I looked really pale and sick, even though I had been eating a ton all day and had taken my pills.

Okay.  I finally find my mom and the food, and by the time I've gotten there, I'm too sick to eat anything.  I had gotten really nauseated.  Even though I had been taking my pills for that too.  All the nurses and doctors were asking me questions about how I was feeling and where the pain was coming from.  Finally, they convinced me to go into the main office for my department and tell them that I couldn't work the rest of my shift, and to go to the hospital I was already pre-admitted at to see what was wrong...

We finally get there.  And I got settled into a room, and am so nicely dressed in an IV gown.  I'm hooked to monitors to monitor the baby's heart beat and my contractions to make sure everything was okay.  The nurse asked me a million different questions about everything from my pain levels (which she didn't believe were that high) to past conditions that I've had.

I knew when I walked in that I wasn't in labor.  There was no way that I was having contractions, because I couldn't feel any.  The problem has been my ribs and my back the ENTIRE time that I've been pregnant, and all everyone says, is there's nothing I can do and to just wait it out.  How nice of them... Great advice.  To which I would respond.... "shove it where the sun don't shine!"  With a nice, big smile.

So, I lay there.  Strapped to machines, with lubricating jelly leaking out of my who haa from the first time they checked to see how dilated I was, trying to sleep with the amount of pain I was in... It seemed impossible.  But apparently I drifted off to sleep, and the nurse came back in to check me and see how I was doing.  When she found that I was exactly the same, (DUH, I knew that), she said that she could give me something for the pain, and send me home.  (The pills were awesome by the way, and I had no pain for the rest of the night... and they did kinda make me pass out...)

BUT  when I asked if I could get some kind of prescription to help ease the pain while I wasn't working, the nurse said no, and looked at me like I was crazy.  She also said I should just try warm baths and non-asprin Tylonol.  When I told her that I have been doing that every day for months and it hadn't done anything, she said I should just keep trying because they try not to give much medicine in the last few weeks of pregnancy.

Stupid nurse.  She didn't believe that I was in much pain in the first place, and whenever I asked for help with the pain, she just brushed it off like I was another pregnant lady complaining about simple pregnancy pains.  Which really bugged me.  When I asked to talk to my doctor about what I should do about working, she brushed it off again.  I felt like she wasn't listening to me at all!  

Any time I've mentioned the pain I'm in to anyone, they just say, "Welcome to pregnancy!  It will be over soon..."  Really?  That's all you have to say?  Try it one more time and I'll shove my maternity brace down your throat.  Did I mention that I went to physical therapy?  For two weeks?  And they told me that nothing they could do would help me, so it would be best for me to come back after I had the baby if the pain was still bothering me.  NO JOKE.

So you know what I'm going to do?  I already talked to the people at my work and told them I was having a really hard time working and I am in constant pain... and working makes it worse.  I'll just have to make the final decision, and tell them that I can't work anymore.... good lord.  I'll have to stop working, try to figure out how to pay for the things I need and keep my job so I can keep the health insurance and have a job to go back to when it's time.

On the plus side, I'm dilated to a 2 and I'm already 80% effaced.  Woot.  But I could stay that way for weeks.  Only 20 more days...

I love dealing with stuff like this... Now if I could find a way to make the pain not be so....  painful.  

Wouldn't that be nice?  I can't wait until this is over....  Keep your fingers crossed.