Happy Wednesday everyone!
First off, thank you all for your comments! I appreciate your feedback and presence. I find it refreshing regardless of what profession, study, or skill set you all may have, we can find common ground in the topics I choose to discuss. Thank you for keeping things positive. I appreciate it and look forward to more interaction and staying connected.
This blog post I dedicate to the patient I lost....unexpectantly.
Last night started off almost like any other night. I passed my meds, did my assessments, charted like a boss, and made myself comfortable at the nurses station...waiting for the last 4 hours of my shift to pass. Some other things occurred on the floor that happened to my colleagues but nothing much beyond our control.
Around 3 AM, I heard my patient start to cough and call out for help. Fortunate for my patient, their room was beside the nurses station and I was able to assist them promptly. Little did I know, it'll be the last time I saw them alive.
Now mind you, I was in the patients room laughing, caring for their needs, their family members were present earlier and we were laughing, passing along jokes, hopefully preparing this patient for discharge. No one expects anything to happen. In my profession, that expectation can change in a instant.
When I saw my patient in distress, I called my charge nurse in the room. In the last moment of my patients life, they had one request. I wiped their mouth. Little did I know, CPR, intubation, and a flood of people were about to immerse.
Thinking about all the chaos that occurred in those moments, the rush of emotions and adrenaline that flowed through me, the fact that I just did and did everything to try to literally save their life was the one of the reasons I became a nurse. Even though the patient lost their life, it seemed like mine was impacted and saved.
There is a theory that when one person loses their life, another life is born. Today is the day that I get re- baptized. I remember earlier in the night, i mentioned it to another patient and they told me how they could tell that Christ resided in my life.
With the patient I lost, I knew that Christ resided in their life as well. The light of Christ shined though their life and radiated. To me, it just becomes all full circle.
In the midst of it all, after the transfer to ICU, to the code they performed in a last attempt, it just all becomes surreal and real in the moment.
To my patient and their family, I am grateful that I was able to care for you. I know there is nothing I can say to bring you back but I just want you to know, the impact you had on my life will not be forgotten--ever.
On the eve of my baptism, as I transition from life to the next, I look forward to a life of even more clarity and without fear. I look forward to caring for patients in a way I never had before, and I look forward to doing everything and pushing more limits because I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
To my patient, I will see you again.
To you all who are reading this, thank you.
My life has been restored. Onward to my future.