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Jun. 16th, 2007 01:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredericksYesterday night I was at work, doing my thing giving out meds and dealing with understandably needy people, when I started feeling chest pains. Now, aside from being overweight, my health is (surprisingly) good: my cholesterol is on the level, BP and heart rate are normal, no family history of MI, yadda yadda yadda. The chest pains were a new thing. A new *scary* thing, particularly taking into consideration the shoulder pain I'd had for the last three days. This pain started the day before my birthday, and for some ridiculous (denial is so not just a river in Africa) reason I chalked it up to muscle sprain even though I hadn't gone to the gym in a week and wasn't doing any major lifting in the interim to justify it. I'd woken up yesterday morning with the pain miraculously gone so I figured, score! However, when the chest pain had kicked in...not so much.
I soldiered around for two hours before deciding enough was enough. You see, about three weeks ago we had a code on one of the floors. This code? was a staff member, a nurse at work at the time. She had a coronary attack and died, right there in the hospital. It's all we've been talking about whenever an issue of health comes up with the staff: "take care of yourself first, because you never know". At the time, with that pain squeezing in my chest (and talk about having a new perspective thrust upon you - even now I'm not sure how to categorize what I felt at the time beside "omg, hurt", yet we ask patients to disseminate their pain all the time), I decided to take action. Or whatever. I wanted to rule out an MI, so I asked if someone from the staff could do an EKG on me while I was on the floor. One of the nurse's aides agreed, but the charge nurse heard and squashed that notion. I'd have to go down to the ER, I suppose because if something happened I'd be right where I could get immediate emergency care. We checked my BP and it was over my normal with a diastolic just shy of 100, which was far from encouraging.
And here's where the whole "take care of yourself first, because you never know" thing comes up and, in hindsight, what happened was understandable but at the time (and, hells, until the time I sat down and forced myself to write this post) had me majorly pissed - I ended up standing at the nurses station for fifteen minutes while my co-workers bickered amongst themselves. To be fair (and, again, only one of those things I see in hindsight) it was only one co-worker with a problem. My departure forced the other nurses to take on my patients, which would have raised their census (censi? censuses? is "census" fifth declension?) to 10. The nurse with the issue had nine patients and didn't want another patient, even though everyone else was willing to take them on. Hindsight? she was following the "me first" addage - she didn't feel comfortable taking care of an extra patient on the opposite side of the floor and didn't want to stress herself over it. Understandable, logical, but a pain in the ass then and now, and an illustration of how "me first" will fuck up our floor.
I'm losing track here; let me continue. I left the floor with report given on six out of my seven patients and went down the ER. The complaint of chest pain got me hustled into a room immediately, but hilariously/scarily enough it took the ER staff almost an hour before they got around to hooking me up to a cardiac monitor and taking an EKG. Getting off my feet and relaxing had me feeling less like I was in danger of being 999'd so I sat back and timed it instead of rushing out and finding out what the hell was going on. The EKG, when done, was normal except for an elevated ST segment, which is not encouraging (an indication of possible injury or arterial blockage), but it didn't show anything emergent. I got an IV put in (and yet another experience that gave me a new perspective: I'd forgot how damn painful IV insertion was for the person not pushing the needle) and labs drawn. The labs all came back negative/clear, including the ones for cardiac enzymes. Score! I was given Pepcid and Maalox (the consensus was it was probably gas), discharge orders (follow up with my physician the next day) and a note, then sent on my way.
I got down to the ER at midnight and they were more or less done with me by 4AM. When I was given the all clear I *could* have gone back to the floor, taken my seven patients, and finished up my shift. Two things, though: one, I asked the doctor who saw me and I was told, rather sharply, to "go home", and two, I was pissed at my co-workers for what I perceived to be their earlier insensitivity. I didn't want to be around them for a minute longer than necessary. I called my brother, who happened to be and on the street because his car had decided to break down during his ride home from work, and asked him to come get me. Then I went up to the floor, tersely interacted with the other nurses on the floor, signed out for midnight, then went home. I should note that the pain didn't go away permanently after the Pepcid/Maalox treatment, but hung around until yesterday evening or so. I ended up stopping by CVS and grabbing some Tums to help combat the irritation.
What do I think caused it? Well (and I'm laughing as I type this) for lunch I'd had some Bangkok Curry soup (I'm a fan of the spicy; all hail the W.I.) and I indulged in a large cup of coffee right before my shift started. I've had spicy plus coffee before though, on numerous occasions. And, as usual with my job, I was stressed the eff out. I don't *do* stress. I'd like to think I'm a laid back person, but that doesn't mean I deal with external pressure well. My usual technique is to avoid pressure situations when possible, for as long as possible. This is not to say that I can't do *well* when under pressure (I have strings of "A" papers from college to attest to that), but I'm one step away from a wreck when dealing with these situations. And one shift at work is twelve hours of heart-clenching shit I normally'd run away from screaming. God, I can't even say I hate my job, because there are times when I feel so alive while at work. It's just quite stressful and not what I should be doing and oh my god that wasn't hard to say*. I mean, I know bedside isn't my calling - I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this here before - but I'm afraid I'll get to the point where telling myself I have to do at least two years of bedside to get where I need to be won't be enough.
My emotional state isn't helping with the stress. I tuck things away instead of taking the time to analyze them. I remember making a conscious effort to "blank" myself back in elementary school, and at this point I'm so distanced from what I feel at any point in time that it's almost frightening. You'd think the resulting numbness would cut down on the stress, but it's more like I'm an overheating car with a broken temperature gauge. I'm gradually losing the ability to fully express myself, as evidence by my inability to finish a journal entry. A personally insightful deep journal entry, not one where I extol the virtue of, say, SGA or Temeraire (not that those things aren't effin' awesome). It's taken me two days to put this together, and I've stopped and started more times than I care to recall.
Of course, it's completely possible that the whole chest pain thing was a one-time fluke caused by an excessive amount of curry. So there. Follow-up with a physician (a new one, my first with my new insurance plan) gave me another clean bill of health pending blood lipid results that I'll go back to get in two weeks (the doc? a complete hottie, btw; I was expected an older woman and hit the jackpot). And that's that.
I go back to work tonight (I didn't miss any shifts, I was just scheduled off Friday night) and I intend to bring in some pastries and "Thank You" cards for the workers on that night. Personalized, of course. I'll thank those who seemed concerned for my welfare with more words than I'll thank the woman who couldn't take on the extra patient, but they all shouldered a burden for me. And fucking up relationships where you work? NEVER a good thing. Let's keep those bridges nice and clear, thankeweverymuch.
Suffer not fools...of course I decided to buy a large iced coffee on the way home from the doctor's. I just chomped two Tums and hope to prevent any issues later on tonight. Jesus, I'm ridiculous sometimes.
I risk coming off like a broken record, but the iPod is rocking my world. And sapping my wallet. The iTunes store is my new crack, omg. It's gotten to the point where I'm afraid to search it. Why did I decide to get Jane Child's "Don't Wanna Fall in Love"? Why? Because it was THERE, dammit. When I start searching for Bananarama songs it's all over.
*Joke
I soldiered around for two hours before deciding enough was enough. You see, about three weeks ago we had a code on one of the floors. This code? was a staff member, a nurse at work at the time. She had a coronary attack and died, right there in the hospital. It's all we've been talking about whenever an issue of health comes up with the staff: "take care of yourself first, because you never know". At the time, with that pain squeezing in my chest (and talk about having a new perspective thrust upon you - even now I'm not sure how to categorize what I felt at the time beside "omg, hurt", yet we ask patients to disseminate their pain all the time), I decided to take action. Or whatever. I wanted to rule out an MI, so I asked if someone from the staff could do an EKG on me while I was on the floor. One of the nurse's aides agreed, but the charge nurse heard and squashed that notion. I'd have to go down to the ER, I suppose because if something happened I'd be right where I could get immediate emergency care. We checked my BP and it was over my normal with a diastolic just shy of 100, which was far from encouraging.
And here's where the whole "take care of yourself first, because you never know" thing comes up and, in hindsight, what happened was understandable but at the time (and, hells, until the time I sat down and forced myself to write this post) had me majorly pissed - I ended up standing at the nurses station for fifteen minutes while my co-workers bickered amongst themselves. To be fair (and, again, only one of those things I see in hindsight) it was only one co-worker with a problem. My departure forced the other nurses to take on my patients, which would have raised their census (censi? censuses? is "census" fifth declension?) to 10. The nurse with the issue had nine patients and didn't want another patient, even though everyone else was willing to take them on. Hindsight? she was following the "me first" addage - she didn't feel comfortable taking care of an extra patient on the opposite side of the floor and didn't want to stress herself over it. Understandable, logical, but a pain in the ass then and now, and an illustration of how "me first" will fuck up our floor.
I'm losing track here; let me continue. I left the floor with report given on six out of my seven patients and went down the ER. The complaint of chest pain got me hustled into a room immediately, but hilariously/scarily enough it took the ER staff almost an hour before they got around to hooking me up to a cardiac monitor and taking an EKG. Getting off my feet and relaxing had me feeling less like I was in danger of being 999'd so I sat back and timed it instead of rushing out and finding out what the hell was going on. The EKG, when done, was normal except for an elevated ST segment, which is not encouraging (an indication of possible injury or arterial blockage), but it didn't show anything emergent. I got an IV put in (and yet another experience that gave me a new perspective: I'd forgot how damn painful IV insertion was for the person not pushing the needle) and labs drawn. The labs all came back negative/clear, including the ones for cardiac enzymes. Score! I was given Pepcid and Maalox (the consensus was it was probably gas), discharge orders (follow up with my physician the next day) and a note, then sent on my way.
I got down to the ER at midnight and they were more or less done with me by 4AM. When I was given the all clear I *could* have gone back to the floor, taken my seven patients, and finished up my shift. Two things, though: one, I asked the doctor who saw me and I was told, rather sharply, to "go home", and two, I was pissed at my co-workers for what I perceived to be their earlier insensitivity. I didn't want to be around them for a minute longer than necessary. I called my brother, who happened to be and on the street because his car had decided to break down during his ride home from work, and asked him to come get me. Then I went up to the floor, tersely interacted with the other nurses on the floor, signed out for midnight, then went home. I should note that the pain didn't go away permanently after the Pepcid/Maalox treatment, but hung around until yesterday evening or so. I ended up stopping by CVS and grabbing some Tums to help combat the irritation.
What do I think caused it? Well (and I'm laughing as I type this) for lunch I'd had some Bangkok Curry soup (I'm a fan of the spicy; all hail the W.I.) and I indulged in a large cup of coffee right before my shift started. I've had spicy plus coffee before though, on numerous occasions. And, as usual with my job, I was stressed the eff out. I don't *do* stress. I'd like to think I'm a laid back person, but that doesn't mean I deal with external pressure well. My usual technique is to avoid pressure situations when possible, for as long as possible. This is not to say that I can't do *well* when under pressure (I have strings of "A" papers from college to attest to that), but I'm one step away from a wreck when dealing with these situations. And one shift at work is twelve hours of heart-clenching shit I normally'd run away from screaming. God, I can't even say I hate my job, because there are times when I feel so alive while at work. It's just quite stressful and not what I should be doing and oh my god that wasn't hard to say*. I mean, I know bedside isn't my calling - I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this here before - but I'm afraid I'll get to the point where telling myself I have to do at least two years of bedside to get where I need to be won't be enough.
My emotional state isn't helping with the stress. I tuck things away instead of taking the time to analyze them. I remember making a conscious effort to "blank" myself back in elementary school, and at this point I'm so distanced from what I feel at any point in time that it's almost frightening. You'd think the resulting numbness would cut down on the stress, but it's more like I'm an overheating car with a broken temperature gauge. I'm gradually losing the ability to fully express myself, as evidence by my inability to finish a journal entry. A personally insightful deep journal entry, not one where I extol the virtue of, say, SGA or Temeraire (not that those things aren't effin' awesome). It's taken me two days to put this together, and I've stopped and started more times than I care to recall.
Of course, it's completely possible that the whole chest pain thing was a one-time fluke caused by an excessive amount of curry. So there. Follow-up with a physician (a new one, my first with my new insurance plan) gave me another clean bill of health pending blood lipid results that I'll go back to get in two weeks (the doc? a complete hottie, btw; I was expected an older woman and hit the jackpot). And that's that.
I go back to work tonight (I didn't miss any shifts, I was just scheduled off Friday night) and I intend to bring in some pastries and "Thank You" cards for the workers on that night. Personalized, of course. I'll thank those who seemed concerned for my welfare with more words than I'll thank the woman who couldn't take on the extra patient, but they all shouldered a burden for me. And fucking up relationships where you work? NEVER a good thing. Let's keep those bridges nice and clear, thankeweverymuch.
Suffer not fools...of course I decided to buy a large iced coffee on the way home from the doctor's. I just chomped two Tums and hope to prevent any issues later on tonight. Jesus, I'm ridiculous sometimes.
I risk coming off like a broken record, but the iPod is rocking my world. And sapping my wallet. The iTunes store is my new crack, omg. It's gotten to the point where I'm afraid to search it. Why did I decide to get Jane Child's "Don't Wanna Fall in Love"? Why? Because it was THERE, dammit. When I start searching for Bananarama songs it's all over.
*Joke
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Date: 2007-06-20 05:51 am (UTC)Cute doctors ensure prompt follow-up. *grin*