I am your nurse

It's so rare for me to write a post not attached to being a mom. I'm pretty sure there hasn't been more than one or two since Isaac was born 7.5 years ago.

But this post isn't about me being a mom. This post is about me being a registered a nurse. A registered nurse during a worldwide pandemic.

People ask me all the time, "what's it like being a nurse right now?" "what's it like working at the hospital right now?"

For me, there is a lot that is still the same at work. I float within the neuroscience program, between surgery (brain and spinal cord surgeries) and medicine (mostly strokes, chronic neuromuscular conditions etc). Unfortunately strokes, brain bleeds, tumors, and seizures don't stop with a pandemic. I still go to work with the same types of patients and I still work the same relative hours. My colleagues are still the most incredible nurses, health care aides, and allied health workers that they've always been.

The changes started with screening. First, I would just have to show my ID badge to be allowed in. Then it was a symptom screen to be fit for work. Then it was wearing a mask continuously during my shift. And by the way, those initial masks from China were as horrible as everyone said. The first time I put it on, it fell right off my face, it kept slipping whenever I talked, it smelt (and I have a very bad sense of smell), and my throat was sore after my shift. The new shipment were much improved, in my opinion, but wearing a mask for hours on end does hurt the tops of the ears and makes the throat dry. Not to mention your facial expressions have to be so exaggerated so patients can tell when you're smiling (you generally avoid making angry faces at them lol).

When the no visitor policy kicked in, it felt like we were all taking a giant gulp of air. Work is always bustling and busy and flitting from one thing to the next. And sometimes families are tremendously helpful. Sometimes, they aren't... Sometimes they get in the way of me doing my job. To just have peace and quiet, and be able to work with sole focus on my patient was a relief, but also a weight. A heavy realization that you were their loved one now. Your presence had to give them the same comfort and support. We also went to great lengths to keep patients connected to their families by helping them face time, text, or even use their cell phones to call home. Once I had an elderly lady with several numbers listed for her son, and I called each one with her to figure out which was the right one. Then I edited it in her phone so she knew which one was actually his.

When elective surgeries were canceled there were a couple shifts when I would have 2 patients, instead of the usual 4-5. I could be so thorough with those patients it was incredible. When you have 4 or 5 acute patients, try as hard as you may, you can't always provide the care you want to. We miss breaks, we don't eat, we don't even pee, because we are so absorbed in going from to room making sure our patients needs are taken care of. Eventually our beds filled back up again, and now we are allowed 1-2 approved visitors for each patient. It's beautiful to see the lights in the eyes of our patients who haven't seen family members in week (or months for some of our long term patients).

I have never felt unsafe due to COVID at work. Our patients are screened, and many swabbed before they get to us. My fellow nurses in the ER, in the ICUs, in long term care, and the designated covid units-they are my heroes. The paramedics, and other first responders, our cleaners, and our meal tray deliverers- they are my heroes. They are the ones who don't know what they will encounter during their day, but show up to work anyway.
I don't feel like a hero. When I entered this career path, it was not for a pat on the back, or verbal accolades, or admiration. It was because I couldn't imagine being happy doing something day in and out unless it was directly helping another person. The heroes are keeping us fed, our homes warm, and our cities operating, even though they didn't choose a job that would inherently carry a great personal risk to them.
The heroes are keeping our children educated. They are adapting their methods, embracing new technology, loving our children from afar, all while trying to balance their own families needs.
The heroes are those who are kind. Those who help. Those who put the needs of others above their own.
On shift, I have been verbally threatened, had fists raised in my face, had my hands crushed, and dodged kicks. Those with brain injuries, and sometimes compound issues like mental illness, addiction, or other social factors can often act out their confusion or frustration with aggression. I have been faced with more immediately threatening situations to my health and safety than COVID so many times over the last nine years. Nurses keep going. Be it peace or pandemic, we continue forward.

Yes, I check blood pressures and temps, give meds and review labs. I start IVs, run drips, monitor and empty brain and spinal cord drains, insert feeding tubes and catheters. I notify the drs when your pain medication isn't doing the trick. I remind them to write an order to hold your blood thinner before your surgery. I ask them to change this or discontinue that when I sense something isn't working or isn't right.

But I also take care of your basic needs. I make sure you are peeing and pooping. I brush your teeth and make sure you're clean. I give you warm blankets, and I know you like your pills crushed, or you like your water at room temperature. I plug in your phone to charge, and I help you fill out your meal menu. I hold your hand when you cry. I encourage you to do things on your own. I celebrate your victories with you-when you first move a previously paralyzed limb, when you can eat solid food again, when you say a coherent sentence, when you can get up and go to the bathroom.

I am your healer, your friend, your advocate, your cheerleader. I am your nurse.