My First Patient

We had a task in one of the Care, Compassion and Communication sessions at university where we had to write a poem about an aspect of our placement experience so far. I've had a bit of a shaky year so far so I think this task hit me a little bit. I was fine writing the poem, I quite enjoyed it actually and found I slept better that night than I had in a while. Maybe I needed to get some things off my chest. When we attended the session people volunteered to read their poems to the class and I was one of those, feeling quite proud of what I'd produced and all. So I started reading it, and then felt the tears coming. I felt such a fool. My whole class seeing me so vulnerable and fall apart - I was so embarrassed. I managed to finish the poem and everyone was absolutely lovely (of course) but I hated the fact that they'd seen that side of me. Hated the fact that they were probably all thinking, "Look how soft she is", "She'll never survive nursing", "She's not resilient". But how wrong I was. My class is just amazing, every one of them clearly felt it too and I knew I wasn't alone. Nursing and working with vulnerable people has a profound effect on you. It's hard not to feel it and I think in that moment I realised that it's not about maintaining a hard shell all of the time. You can't wear armour all of the time. That release was exactly what I needed and I am so grateful now that I had it. I've found it pretty difficult to reflect on things in the structured manner that the university advise but I think I've found a method that really helps me - poetry. (I never thought I'd be saying those words!) 

Anyway, here is my poem about the very first patient I looked after on my very first placement - someone I will never forget.

My First Patient

Your first day on the ward, a strange place to be,

your proud smile says, "You don't need to look after me!".

You chat to all your neighbours in your bay,

Offering them a hand, you brighten up their day.

Your wife brings you flowers all the way from your farm,

a little piece of home for you to look back on.

Your home is your work place, your passion so true,

you talk with such fondness, with stories of the view.

I wish that you could see it now and be there just once more,

I'm sorry that you're confined here behind the hospital doors.

Your family, they pray for you and hope you'll be home soon,

they're missing you an awful lot, they're here most afternoons.

Days go by and your strength wanes,

it's difficult to fight through that much pain.

You accept our help, our comfort and support,

we provide care and compassion, with your needs in our thoughts.

I don't show you that I'm sad to see you get so weak,

I still sit by your bedside where we always speak.

The words we share become less and less,

I can see you fading, I must confess.

Your heart beats its last and your chest fails to rise,

you fade away so peacefully as you close your eyes.

You've gone to a better place now, a place without the pain,

with your family and loved ones, your spirit will remain.

I've known you such a short time, but have learnt a lot,

you are such an inspiration and will never be forgot.

And although it's sad that you're no longer here,   

I look back in happiness and not in fear.

Trying to have a life outside of Nursing

This is a tad random but a rant I feel might maintain the little sanity I have left. 

This course is incredibly intense. It takes over your life, changes your outlook on life itself and those around you both close and far. It uses all of your time, preventing you from bringing in money thus cancelling out most of your social life. Doing this later in life when others have their careers already and are beginning to settle down means your schedules become very difficult to match up especially when life's little complications rear their ugly heads.

People always said before I started this course that no one other than fellow/previous healthcare students would understand what it feels like and I always laughed and thought...really?! The truth is, well, that. It is difficult for other people to understand that you don't have spare time or money to go for dinner, drinks or lovely social activity like you used to. That and the fact that I was stupid enough to enter into yet more studying when I STILL have debt to pay off, which in itself is a balancing act. It's a pretty stressful ride. There are also the people who snort when you say you're a student, thinking that you get more days off than you do on...wrong. I work full time hours (37.5hrs a week) on a heavy ward, do everything I can to do well and please my mentor, stay alert for every learning opportunity, travel miiiiiiles every day, go home and do uni work or research for placement, do all of my house work, try to have a life and also find time for sleep. It's blumin difficult, and I don't have kids like many of my fellow students. I seriously don't understand how they do it. People - nursing students work very hard!

Spending time with friends and family is very important to me and although it is  something I'd never be willing to give up, trying to find a balance seems impossible! If anyone has any tips I'd be grateful...

A Difficult Part of the Job

Yesterday at work, a gentleman returned to the home after a long stint in hospital with suspected pneumonia. The doctors had sent him home to receive palliative care, which basically means making him as comfortable as possible towards the end of his life. He isn't yet on the Care Pathway but the nurse says that it is quite likely that he will be in the next week or so unless he improves.

This man, let's say Gregory (not his real name), has had a very full life and turned 83 on 12th December, the day he returned to his home. He has a large family and wide circle of friends who have rarely left his bedside. Although these are lovely things it doesn't prevent me from feeling sad that his life may be coming to an end. This is where the job gets very difficult indeed, but it gives you an opportunity to do the very best you can for someone in a very vulnerable position. I think the only thing you can do in this situation is to think about the comfort and care you are providing and the wonderful, full life they have had.

I do hope that there is some sort of birthday/Christmas miracle for him and he pulls through and proves the nurse wrong. Come on Gregory!