I'm sure you all know by now that I once worked in the Emergency Room at 3 different hospitals. From the time I was 15 when I went on a long road trip from Alberta to Minnesota to our church convention with a lady who was an ER nurse, I was intrigued. She worked at a busy downtown Vancouver, B.C. hospital and I quizzed her relentlessly about her job on that trip. There was only one problem. I had declared that of all the jobs there were out there, a nurse was something I was NOT going to do. I had been a candy striper at a hospital in Portland, OR the summer I was 14 while I was staying down here for the summer (my aunt worked at the same hospital, in the very next room, in fact). I had thought all the old people were so slow and boring. Who would want to take care of them all day?
Anyhow, 10 years later, I signed up for LPN school since my other job had ended for the summer and I needed something to do. A different aunt worked at the local community college and told me about a pilot LPN course being offered and the signups were the next day. Akk! I didn't even know what an LPN was. Oh well. I went to the testing and recall asking the girl next to me, "What's this test even about? Science? English? Math?" It turned out to be all three of those as well as an essay about why I wanted to be a nurse. Well, I have to admit that my essay was all made up stories, because as we all know by now, I didn't want to be a nurse. Instead, God wanted me there and orchestrated everything perfectly and I started college right away (the next week or so, if I remember right).
It all went fine until I had to take care of the old people in the nursing home. I would cry on my way to clinicals and I would cry on my way home (because I felt so bad for them- so sick and lonely). I would stumble through endless small talk with people who didn't talk back. I would spoon feed dear old ladies who didn't know their own names anymore. I still didn't know what I was doing there, but kept on doing it.
We then moved our clinicals to acute care, where we got to go to the operating room and see surgeries and take care of the post-op people. Now, this was getting better. We got to bandage wounds, teach people about their surgery and help them heal and go home. I started to love it. And the more time I spent at the hospital, the more comfortable I got making small talk with so many strangers.
When I graduated, I got a job as a float nurse in the Red Deer Regional Hospital, so I got to work on all the floors except maternity (no interest anyhow), pediatrics (no interest there either), ICU and ER. Occasionally I would get sent down to the other floors if they were short staffed, but since the ER did not hire LPNs, I figured my chance of ever working there was nil. Like totally 0%.
But, then something changed. Somebody, somewhere decided that the ER needed Orthopedic Technicians to handle all the bone stuff. And in Alberta, Ortho Techs are specialized LPNs. I ran down as soon as I heard about it and let the manager know that I was very interested and applied for the job (and the specialized training) that day. I was hired (much to the dismay of many RNs there who did not want us there- they were rather possessive of their ER) and loved that job. I had to work extra hard to win the approval of several snarky RNs, but eventually they changed their minds. They loved us (there were 3 of us hired).
Work was hard. 12 hour shifts and most days we'd see between 150-250 patients in a day. I worked in the fast track area, which had 17 patients at a time, with constant turnover. My sister said I'd be rattling off blood pressures and pulses in my sleep all night long. I could barely climb the 5 stairs into my apartment when I'd get home. But, I loved it. This was where I was meant to be. I loved fixing people up and sending them home. I was not meant to be a long term care kind of nurse. Or even a medical floor nurse. I loved the broken bones and sutures most of all.
I worked there for 2 years before my friend (and now sis-in-law) Reidun and I moved to Alaska. I then was not certified anymore (Alaska didn't recognize my license), so got a job as an Ward Clerk (secretary) and then ER tech in the local hospital in Palmer. It was only 11 beds, but because we covered such a huge land area, we got all kinds of emergencies. I loved it there as well.
When we got married, I got a job also as an ER tech at our local hospital in Mesa, AZ and worked there 2 more years until the week before Luke was born. Mesa had totally different demographics than either of the other hospitals, because the median age was 76. Yep, half of our patients were older than 76. Lots of strokes, heart attacks, flu bugs, and pneumonia and plain old death was what we took care of. Oh, here were those old people again! By this time I was maturing and appreciated them much more, learning all kinds of wisdom from my time with them. I still am not a long term care nurse kind of person, but do enjoy taking care of the elderly for short term spurts.
There are many people would would encourage their girls to "reach for the stars" in terms of a career. That the only way for success is for many years of school and to have a degree to show. The other extreme encourages girls to stay at home until they marry, whatever age that may be. I feel both extremes are not practical nor healthy in the long term (although both may be the right thing for a small percentage of girls). For me, God blessed me for many years by providing a way to minister to others, a decent paycheck and a flexible schedule that perfectly fit with my personality. I was also completely ready to become a mom when the time was right and gave up my job quite nicely and have never looked back when it was time to turn life's page. Trade school is so much cheaper and more practical for the majority of people, and avoids much of the pop psychology that universities are notoriously known for.
By now it's been almost exactly 10 years since I quit my job at the last hospital, so I'm recalling the information that is still swimming around in my head. My previous jobs really have helped me have a better marriage (better communication, less hurt feelings, more give & take), be a better parent (wisdom in "normal" children, recognizing abnormal, trusting my instincts) and be a more compassionate friend (patience in distress, calmness, compassion, better communication). I value the vast number of skills I learned, as well as the various thousands of patients and coworkers that I met and interacted with over my 5 years in the ER and 3 years on the regular nursing floors before that.
Here's what I recall learning, in no particular order:
-how to swaddle and hold a kid down (for stitches or other procedures)
-the dangers of hormonal birth control/IUDs (blood clots, miscarriage, unintended pregnancy, IUD dislodging and perforating bowel, unintentional abortion). As a tech, I had to be a chaperone for any female issues where a male Dr. was in the room and saw this way more than I care to recall
-when a cut needs stitches and when super glue will do
-how to drain a smashed fingernail (red hot paper clip to melt the nail)
-what to look for in a head injury (vomiting once is normal, more than once is not, pupil dilation, etc.)
-fluid replacement ways/amounts with the flu (give 15 mL every 15 minutes)
-how common miscarriage is (1/3 of all pregnancies end in miscarriage)
-what alcohol/drugs/mental illness look like in their not-so-glamorous forms
-when and how to treat a fever (no treatment until 102*F or 38.5*C)
-the best doctors are not the ones that order tons of tests, the best ones use signs and symptoms for diagnosis (one of the best Dr.'s I worked with was from South Africa and said that 90%+ diagnosis should be from signs and symptoms). Most testing is only for confirmation or proof in case of lawsuits. Sadly, too many people think that diagnosis should come from expensive testing.
-vulnerability at its peak
-nervous breakdowns and what they look (and don't look) like
-mass disaster (tornado in Alberta, more below)
-CPR and what it really looks like, how effective it is, and how often you have to do it especially when you live in a retirement city (Mesa, AZ)
-Dr.'s don't know it all...always do your own research too
-when in doubt, get a second opinion
-suicide and various attempts (don't ever use Tylenol...it won't kill you and will just permanently damage your liver to make your life worse than ever)
-half of an ER Dr.'s salary goes to malpractice insurance. Remember that next time you think they make too much money. Half.
Situations that still stand out in my memory over this many years:
-Super glue should not be confused with Visine. Ever.
-Hot wax dropped on a toddlers face from a mom waxing her legs. And both parents fighting and blaming themselves for not watching her closely.
-Exotic romantic encounters often end embarrassingly. I won't say more, but they do provide humor for ER staff.
-Drunk diabetics are a bad deal. This guy had poor circulation and then was walking around barefoot and cut his foot almost off because he couldn't feel it when he stepped on a broken beer bottle. He even cut it right through the bones and still didn't even know it. Blood, blood and more blood.
-Severe asthma in a child that no one could get intubated. Scary, scary...with her identical twin sister and dad in the family room praying and praying for her, and the huge relief when she came back healthy a few days later after recovering from her attack.
-Esophageal varices (bleeding sores of the esophagus typically from alcohol) & religion. A man came in who was a closet alcoholic and a Jehovah's Witness with severe bleeding in his esophagus. His pastor encouraged him to keep refusing all blood products (as true to their religion), but as soon as the pastor left, the patient requested them (knowing that he would die without them, considering the amount of blood lost through his severe bleeding). It was interesting to see what happens when push comes to shove.
-Alcoholism. The damage to physical bodies, lives (drunk driving), families, homes...not worth the risk).
-Death of a child. I only witnessed 2 in all my years, but they are forever embedded in my mind and heart- one was the son of one of our Dr.'s who passed out on the playground at school (he had a known heart condition) and passed away peacefully. The other was a 3 year old boy in Alaska who died from dehydration from the flu. His parents failed to bring him in until it was almost too late, due to sexual and physical abuse in the home (as witnessed by his little body when we were working on trying to resusitate him). We worked on him for a full 2 hours (which is much longer than normal) because of the enormity of the whole situation. His parents were completely distraught and flailing around and screaming on the floor, and his siblings had to be confiscated due to the obvious signs of abuse (this was the only time CPS was ever called in all my years working), and then we had to wrap up that poor little dead body that endured more pain than any child should ever, ever have to endure. It still brings tears to my eyes and pain in my heart when I think back to that situation. I could hardly even take care of any children (other than minor injuries) after that for the rest of my years working as I would just get totally weak and lose my focus. Drowning in children was also very common in Arizona, which is why we'll never have a pool at our house.
-Head/neck injuries from trampolines are the most common cause of quadriplegics in children. Which is why we will never own one of them either, fun as they are. Also, quad/4-wheelers cause so much injury and death in children because any Joe without any skill, agility or strength can ride them. To quote another ER nurse, "quads kill kids, dirt bikes break their limbs". Dirt bikes are so much lighter and require actual skill to ride that they are a much better choice. Sorry to my own kids for the lack of pleasure toys we'll ever own!
-Tornado. A massive tornado went through a 500 space RV park near Red Deer, AB the week after I started my first ER job. 70 people were killed and if I remember right, we triaged and treated about 200 people that evening. It was a totally eery, phenomenal experience. The hospital disaster plan worked amazingly well, and everything ran smoothly. The way the community came together was wonderful as well.
-IV practice. When I lived in Alaska, the ER techs start the IVs. To get practice, they would let me practice on the drunks that the police had found and brought in for sobering up (can't leave them on the streets in such cold weather, so we got them). Lots of practice on a Friday or Saturday night!
-Suicide. We saw many attempts and many deaths. The one that stands out the most was when a man hung himself on Father's Day, and his wife and daughter found him. So sad. Drug deaths were also hard especially when the family was unaware of a drug problem.
-When a husband/wife won't die. We saw this various times when either (a) a spouse would try to kill off their husband/wife by overmedicating them intentionally or (b) when a patient wanted treatment to live and their husband/wife would not want treatment causing them to die. Sad situations where usually someone wanted a life insurance claim.
-When stomach cramps=having a baby. The awkwardness of not knowing you're pregnant and you think you have the flu when in fact you are having a baby. And how to tell your boyfriend (who is not the father, by the way) who is sleeping in the car...
-A man with a head injury who wouldn't stop rambling off to everyone and anyone how amazing his wife is. Apparently he was a super quiet guy who never said that type of thing. To anyone. Not even his wife. She was loving hearing it all!
-When you wear a down (feather) coat and your car stalls on the railroad tracks and you get hit by the train and then you miraculously are still alive and they take you to the ER on a spine board and wherever you go, a trail of feathers follows you. Good chuckles like that make the hard job worthwhile.
-When you go to the ER for yet another ovarian cyst after many (7+) years of infertility and pain, and when they do an ultrasound the first thing to show up on the screen is a 5-months-along size kicking baby. And you get see him/her wiggling about. And it isn't a cyst after all. And there's not a dry eye in the room. And it's the week before Christmas. And life is just amazingly beautiful!
