First Day of the Rest of My Job
After spending Thursday through Sunday wading the mucky edges of the Slough of Despond and dreading today's arrival, my first shift back at work since Ugly Wednesday. I was, of course, in great need of just getting back to it, already. Four days is way too long to contemplate one's own professional inadequacies without the opportunity to do anything about them.
Fortunately, and perhaps not so surprisingly, today was fine. I never did get an e-mail back about my request to be assigned to a different preceptor, but at the beginning of the day, Linda the Clinical Nurse Specialist just switched me from Jessica to somebody else. I still don't know what she said to Jessica about it, but I had several cheerful and seemingly un-charged interactions with her throughout the day, so I think it's fine. My replacement preceptor was a bit, um, hands-on at first, apparently having been warned about my--you know--issues. And I spent a miserable half-hour or so thinking oh no, not again. But I managed to demonstrate some competence early on, and she backed way off after that, but stayed warm and approachable about the stuff I did need help with. I'm not sure what impression of me she walked away with, but it seemed not to be dire.
Meanwhile, there was the actual patient care. (Oh, that.) My guy with graft-versus-host disease (a risk with an allogeneic bone marrow transplant--your new T-cells from your donor decide to fight off your own tissue as a foreign invader) and cryptosporidium in his gut was having a hard time because he just learned that he's not going to get to go home in time for Christmas, after all. He was being uncharacteristically uncooperative, entitled, and at moments downright defiant. I got him to open up a little about what was going on with him emotionally, and I also got the chaplain (with whom he has a good ongoing relationship) to go see him, and by the end of the shift he was noticeably mellowed.
AND there was my new lady with the head and neck cancer. She's just about to start chemo, and is being put through all kinds of preliminary tests and procedures. Her jaw pain ranges from 5 to 8-1/2 on a 0-to-10 scale, and she is not really able to speak intelligibly because of the massive tumor in her left cheek. She wrote me a note telling me that she had a "fun day" and "enjoyed [me] immensely." Now, if a person can think even for a moment that she had a "fun day" on the day her Port-a-Cath was placed, somebody is doing something right, if I do say so myself.
Of course, I didn't bat 1.000 today. The buff 38-year-old guy in for his first round of MAID (a chemo regimen) for his bone cancer didn't smile at me once, and at best grimly tolerated my ministrations and my apparently not-so-ingratiating presence. But whatever. I measured his pee, I took his vitals, I unhooked his IV lines for a sec so he could get his robe off, and I told him that his mother called. I did what I needed to do.
I'm off again tomorrow (during which I intend to complete approximately a week's worth of Christmas-related tasks, plus two loads of laundry), and then back Wednesday and Thursday. I'm feeling immeasurably more upbeat and relaxed about it after today, and I hope that manages to carry through.
I leave you with a recent Cassie quote: "I have to poop really badly... No, no... I mean, I have to poop really goodly."
Fortunately, and perhaps not so surprisingly, today was fine. I never did get an e-mail back about my request to be assigned to a different preceptor, but at the beginning of the day, Linda the Clinical Nurse Specialist just switched me from Jessica to somebody else. I still don't know what she said to Jessica about it, but I had several cheerful and seemingly un-charged interactions with her throughout the day, so I think it's fine. My replacement preceptor was a bit, um, hands-on at first, apparently having been warned about my--you know--issues. And I spent a miserable half-hour or so thinking oh no, not again. But I managed to demonstrate some competence early on, and she backed way off after that, but stayed warm and approachable about the stuff I did need help with. I'm not sure what impression of me she walked away with, but it seemed not to be dire.
Meanwhile, there was the actual patient care. (Oh, that.) My guy with graft-versus-host disease (a risk with an allogeneic bone marrow transplant--your new T-cells from your donor decide to fight off your own tissue as a foreign invader) and cryptosporidium in his gut was having a hard time because he just learned that he's not going to get to go home in time for Christmas, after all. He was being uncharacteristically uncooperative, entitled, and at moments downright defiant. I got him to open up a little about what was going on with him emotionally, and I also got the chaplain (with whom he has a good ongoing relationship) to go see him, and by the end of the shift he was noticeably mellowed.
AND there was my new lady with the head and neck cancer. She's just about to start chemo, and is being put through all kinds of preliminary tests and procedures. Her jaw pain ranges from 5 to 8-1/2 on a 0-to-10 scale, and she is not really able to speak intelligibly because of the massive tumor in her left cheek. She wrote me a note telling me that she had a "fun day" and "enjoyed [me] immensely." Now, if a person can think even for a moment that she had a "fun day" on the day her Port-a-Cath was placed, somebody is doing something right, if I do say so myself.
Of course, I didn't bat 1.000 today. The buff 38-year-old guy in for his first round of MAID (a chemo regimen) for his bone cancer didn't smile at me once, and at best grimly tolerated my ministrations and my apparently not-so-ingratiating presence. But whatever. I measured his pee, I took his vitals, I unhooked his IV lines for a sec so he could get his robe off, and I told him that his mother called. I did what I needed to do.
I'm off again tomorrow (during which I intend to complete approximately a week's worth of Christmas-related tasks, plus two loads of laundry), and then back Wednesday and Thursday. I'm feeling immeasurably more upbeat and relaxed about it after today, and I hope that manages to carry through.
I leave you with a recent Cassie quote: "I have to poop really badly... No, no... I mean, I have to poop really goodly."
posted by Rosie Bonner at 10:43 PM
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