Former Co-Workers When I Worked Pediatrics

I was stumbling around on Facebook, and  found three of the R.N.s I worked with when I worked pediatrics, and sent ‘just saying hi’ messages.  I’m not sure they’ll see them, but I hope they do.  When I worked there, the dysautonomia had started getting much worse, and they were stuck with me some nights when I was having heart rate and blood pressure issues.   More than once, I was hauled down to the E.R.  Not good.  I was more of a liability with my inconsistent ability to stay vertical.  And I’m not sure anybody really understood what was going on.   I know I was stunned at how bad things were getting… and it scared me.  But I still thought I could work if I found something else.

Anyway, I have respect for them, and am glad I had the chance to work on a pediatric floor.  I’d taken care of kids on many other types of floors I worked  (neuro, head injury rehab, general med-surg) for years, but not a ‘real’ pediatric floor.   I greatly value the experience I got there.   I’m going to post this with a ‘public’ tag, hoping they see this if they get the messages.

When the dysautonomia first kicked in after I’d moved back from Texas, I wasn’t sure what to expect, so didn’t panic at first. I’d always been able to find some medication that helped.  I had to do a 3 week heart monitor that showed PVCs.  That was treated with medication, and it did help to some degree.  I could still feel them, but not as often.  But, I was still  able to work more than not.  I was starting to feel uneasy around the tinier babies… I would do all care and assessments without moving the baby off of the bed.  I’d ‘cradle’ them in my arms, and do everything that needed doing, but I was afraid to move them away from the safety of the cribs.

The summer months were hard on that floor because of the decreased census (kids not in school giving each other ‘bugs’). Being single, I didn’t have a spouse to help make up the difference in pay I was losing when hours were cut (I lost a month’s hours over the summer).  That was a problem.  I couldn’t work overtime when I was doing all I could to work the hours I was assigned.  Everybody got hours cut- and it was fair as far as that went, but I needed full-time work year round. The nurse manager contacted an adult med-surg manager who said she’d plug me into their schedule, but she never answered my  phone calls.  And I was getting scared.  I needed to work somewhere where  I wasn’t so anxious about the dysautonomia.  I didn’t trust my own body…but I wasn’t ready to give up working. Being a nurse has been my identity for a long time.  It was like that part of me was starting to die. But I didn’t want to give up.

I made the decision to work at a nursing home.  I’d worked in several before.  I wouldn’t have the fear of dropping a small baby/child when I’d get dizzy or feel the PVCs, and if I had to move someone, there was always a CNA around somewhere at the nursing home to do it together.  It was more team oriented- though any one of the pediatric nurses would help when asked.  I’d be pushing a medication cart around, and if needed, I could stop for a minute, bend over, and try to clear my head when the dysautonomia kicked in.   While I really was thankful for the chance to work pediatrics (the reason I went to nursing school 18 years earlier), it wasn’t a good thing in many ways anymore.   And, it was really hard to leave.  I really liked the vast majority of people I worked with.  They gave good care to the patients, which I respected.  Most of the night shift nurses were ‘older’ (not 20-somethings), and I enjoyed working with nurses closer to my age.  But I had to leave for many reasons.

I felt badly about the short notice they’d get when I was feeling the pre-syncopal symptoms.  If I was taken to the E.R. in the middle of the shift, someone (or a couple of them) would have to take care of my patients.  That wasn’t fair to them.   There were huge issues with the temperature of the break room (or any designated place I could go cool down). My heat intolerance was bad, but  at that time, I could still go into patient rooms and do what I needed to do, even if it was quite warm.  The babies’ rooms were especially warm, which they needed;  I understood that, and was  able to manage.  But it was nearly impossible to find somewhere that was cool enough for me to chart between assessments or meds (being in the rooms), see my lights going off, and do better getting through the shift- mostly because of one nurse who was considered the nurse manager’s ‘pet’.  That one nurse in particular was very nasty about the thermostat.   I didn’t care if I  was in the main area- I just NEEDED somewhere that wasn’t as hot as most of them liked it (I’ve deteriorated a lot since then, and can’t leave home without cooling vests, and my thermostat is never above 68- generally cooler, and often on when the outside temp is below 40 degrees). I leave home about once or twice a month, always with the cooling vests.   I could have pursued it with the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act), but I’m not much into ‘forcing’ someone to do the right thing.   If they’re that nasty, I’m not interested in working with them.  There were many really great nurses to work with there, but if I couldn’t stay conscious, I was no good to them or the patients.

Since then, I worked about 8 months at the nursing home before I was essentially forced to go on disability.   I was passing out ‘hard’, and hauled off by ambulance at least 10 times in the last 2 months I was there. I don’t remember any of the ambulance trips.  By then,  I had an office job doing care plans.  I tried to go back  7 months later, but it didn’t work.  My body was crashing, and the pain from the repetitive motion and shoving those 200 pound medcarts around was triggering more autonomic stuff- whether at work or at home.  Nobody there would acknowledge I existed after I had to leave.  One went out of her way to avoid me at the grocery store.  I’d gotten sick- I wasn’t some sort of criminal !!

Since being on disability, I’ve deteriorated even more, and had some more challenges come up.  I’ve had leukemia (acute myelocytic, subtype M-3, or APL) with 19 months of near daily chemo of some sort- that blew me up like a toad (face/chin is still not right after a nasty cellulitis and ear infection during the worst of the leukemia), I lost my hair twice, and my eyebrows never did come back in right. But a local news anchor died within 2 days of diagnosis from the same thing, so I’m fortunate.  I’ve got degenerative disc disease in most of my spine, so chronic pain.  I had a knee replacement.  I had multiple pulmonary emboli, and spent a lot of time hospitalized getting that straightened out, or for complications from them or the warfarin. I had testing to see if part of my brain could be removed- come to find out I need all of it :p   Chronic pain and headaches are just daily life.   Chemo makes autonomic stuff worse; my legs are atrophying, so I am ‘working’ my thighs as much as I can to maintain the strength there.

But I’m fortunate.  I’ve had great experiences as an R.N.   I miss it daily.  I’ve been of some use to some family and friends when they’ve been going through their own medical disasters.  But, I had really hoped that I’d work on that pediatric floor for a long time.  It was my dream job when I was in nursing school.   I really enjoyed most of the people I worked with.  I respected them and the care they gave those kids.  I liked the patients (the abuse cases were hard to handle emotionally; they angered me), and learned a lot.

I’m also still able to live on my own.  There are times when I wonder how long that will last, but I’m doing what I can to make sure I can live here in my own space for as many years as possible.   I have a ‘new’ dog; she’s 18 months old now, and nuts, but a lot of company.   I got her when she was 9 weeks old.   My dad is still healthy and a big part of my life. I have two friends from when I grew up here. One has helped me a lot with straightening out my apartment after being packed 4 times to return to Texas… every time I packed, something else would go on medically; I’m no longer able to travel very far.  The TSA has issues with my cooling vests (they turn into liquid), and I can’t be ‘contained’ in something with no room to get up and move around. But,  I have adjusted how I do things (order many items online, get Schwan’s food delivered, shop in the middle of the night when it’s cooler, and there are fewer people getting huffy because I don’t move as fast as they do, etc.).   There are ways to get most things done.

SO, if any of those nurses I worked with see this, thank you for being part of the good things I remember when  I worked with you.   I may have only been there for eight months, but you left good impressions, and it was long enough to respect you.  I wish you all well.   I didn’t know how to handle what had started getting bad, and I’m SO  sorry for the inconvenience I was for you, as well as the times I sort of spooked some of the nurses I worked with when I’d hit the floor.   But mostly, thanks for the good parts 🙂

Dysautonomia episode w/ chest blotching, severe flushing, lightheadedness, and other symptoms that come and go with various intensities.

Dysautonomia episode w/ chest blotching, severe flushing, lightheadedness, and other symptoms that come and go with various intensities.

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Do Nursing Students Learn the Names of Medications Anymore?

VENTING HERE !!!  I’m frustrated with the general group of people I used to work with.  I love nursing, and am SO thankful I’m from the ‘old school’ of nursing. I still have my license even though I’m disabled, because it means something to me.  I worked hard for it. And it was my main identity for the 20+ years I was able to work.  We still had to do things that are done by machine now, but actually had to DO them ourselves (vitals, handwritten charting, doing our own orders, etc- no techs or CNAs in most hospital jobs when I started… on an acute neuro floor, I had 14 patients on the night shift). IV pumps weren’t used much- we had to count the drops with our wristwatch, and know when the bag was due to run out BEFORE it did, so we didn’t risk a line clotting off.  We didn’t have pulse ox monitors- so we had to look at skin color, and other symptoms, and then call the doc to see about getting ABGs done.   Older nurses get mocked, but we did a lot with much less mechanical help. When something breaks down, who knows how to improvise?   When I graduated, I had to test urine to determine how much insulin to give.  Blood sugar monitors were not common, and even in hospitals, an entire floor (neuro and OB/Nursery in my situation; NICU got their own) shared the monitor when they first came out.

But my major beef when I go to the doctor’s office now is the lack of understanding and interest in medication proficiency when the nurses review my meds with me.  It’s a huge part of their job- and yet pronunciation is abysmal, and knowing what the meds are for is worse.

I am constantly stunned at how few nurses I encounter are able to pronounce the names of medications, and know the generic names of brand drugs.  It’s appalling.   I graduated from an ADN/RN program in 1985, and in order to do so,  our entire class  (standard practice in all nursing schools I knew of back then) had to memorize brand and generic names of ALL meds our clinical patients were taking, the reason for the meds, usual doses, side effects, SPELLING, etc.- and hand write them on index cards, which were checked by our instructors- no boxed sets of cards from the bookstore. No apps.  An index card and pen, with a drug reference book was our ‘app’.

Take some pride, dear nursing students- and full-fledged nurses! Make yourselves sound like you have the education you paid for (generally too much, if you started with some big  school).  Don’t stumble over the names… learn how they’re pronounced. Ask.  Sound like you’re in command of any medication review, or at least go look it up later if you don’t have to give an unfamiliar med yourself- then look it up before.  For hospital and nursing home nurses, know your patient base, and get familiar with the most common meds.  Generic, brand, what they look like, etc.   I’ve caught the wrong meds in those bubble cards in nursing homes more than once, just by knowing what they normally look like.  And hospital pharmacies aren’t perfect…. know what you work with ! Sometimes it’s just a new supplier.   Don’t be afraid to call and clarify something, or send it back to the pharmacy to be double checked.  If you give the wrong med, it’s on YOU.  Nobody else.

I’m at medical appointments more often than I care to think about because of multiple disabling diagnoses, and a routine part of each appointment is reviewing my current medications.  I have to keep track of two types of insulin, and around 10 ‘scheduled’ prescriptions, and more OTC meds that I take routinely. Then there are the routine supplements and many PRN meds- prescription and OTC (that’s ‘over-the-counter’).  And I can pronounce all of them, in their generic and brand forms.  It’s not rocket science.  It’s medical literacy.   It’s also the JOB of any working nurse who has to review or give medications.  How do nurses make notes about new orders if they can’t spell the name of the meds?   When checking meds against MARS, how do they know FOR SURE they’re giving the right med, if they can’t pronounce or spell the names ?  Or do you just figure you can look it up later and hope for the best?   Never stop actively learning (not just hearing things passively).  😉

When talking to the hospital pharmacy, do you know the difference between Xanax and Zanaflex?  Do you know which one is tizanidine and which is alprazolam?   In an emergency, do you know which one can be reversed with Romazicon (flumazenil) ?  Or do you  need a few minutes to go check, as the patient’s respirations drop to the point of needing intubation, when knowledge of the meds (and knowing where they are in the crash cart or emergency box) could save time and unnecessary procedures ?  If not, you really are not competent to give or review medications.  If it’s a weird med, or something given for a condition that isn’t common where you work, then ask the patient.  They might not know- but you might learn something if you take a few minutes after work to look it up.  Patients can be huge resources with oddball meds.

Nobody can know every last medication out there- there are times when reference books (or apps… I liked actual books when I was working) are absolutely needed and a necessary part of being  competent and conscientious.   But the medications that are commonly prescribed for various conditions typical to your work environment  should be part of any nurse’s engrained memory.   If you work neuro, know the meds for epilepsy, Parkinsons, MS, CVAs, increased ICP, etc. If you work pediatrics, know the general ‘rules’ for Tylenol and ibuprofen, and the different code meds that should be posted in the patient room with their weight and appropriate doses.  If you work drug and alcohol rehab, know the meds needed for ODs, detoxing, and what symptoms to look for during withdrawal for the various categories of drugs.  You should be able to pick up on mistakes- including those given to you when taking or checking orders.  I’ve had to call doctors back, and verify doses, when they  just didn’t seem  right when I was checking orders.  Especially when working in pediatrics, geriatrics, and with patients with renal insufficiency or outright renal failure.

I learned the most about brand/generic information during the time I worked in nursing homes (so don’t squawk if you have to take a job in a nursing home- you will learn medications in such a way that you will be better in ANY nursing job you have later on).  I learned about the fragility of doses in pediatrics- and how to dilute meds to give the precision doses required of a 2kg newborn. I always double checked my calculations with another nurse, and the pharmacy (we had a pediatric pharmacist available at all times, which was wonderful- but not having that is not an excuse to double check doses).    And, never to give any dose to any patient if it just didn’t seem right.

In general med-surg nursing, I learned about how IV drugs should be given safely (so if you think that you’re wasting time in a med-surg job instead of your ‘dream position’, consider it what your nursing school didn’t teach you- after you have to complete an ‘internship’ that didn’t exist 30 years ago).  Don’t skip the saline flush before giving the IVP, even if you know it still has saline in the lock from the last flush- you don’t know for SURE it’s patent- things shift, and meds can HURT if they go into the tissues.  My dad complained about his IV site for 2 days when he was given nausea meds, and there was never a saline flush before the med- just after.  It wasn’t an overt ‘blow’, but it wasn’t patent in a normal way. He was treated like he was clueless about his own pain during the medication administration.  SAS(H) is still protocol in any place I’ve been (check your facility P&P Manual).  Don’t be lazy.  Meds that are pushed through infiltrated veins hurt (yeah, I said that before).  Take a couple of minutes to do it right.  It takes much less time to check patency than it does to clean up a patient and full bed change from the nausea med never getting a chance to work, and the patient puking his toenails up.  And some compassion? That will go a LONG way.

If we didn’t know the information that made us ‘floor ready’ by the time we were to graduate, we didn’t graduate. Period.  Very simple. Our orientation was ‘here are the narc keys, there’s the bathroom, here’s where you punch in, and good luck’- as the off-going nurse snickered. If I was lucky, the ADON was still around until about 6 p.m.- after that, I was the only R.N. educated person in the BUILDING of 150 nursing home residents (I had the skilled wing of 30 by myself for 3-11, and another 30 dementia patients if I worked a double on 11-7).    Three to four days tops for orientation  back in the 80s.  A couple of weeks in the 90s, and then ‘babysitting’ for 6 friggin’ weeks with a preceptor in the 2000s, because nobody trusted that someone with a license actually knew what the job required. Very sad.  I had a nice preceptor who ‘got it’ that the job there wasn’t my first rodeo- and it was nice to have someone paid just to be a resource for me (my main ‘needs’ were:  how to call a code, how to deal with the abuse cases and social services when a parent visited a kid who’d been on the news for being beaten or burned, and dealing with the general procedures for dealing with new orders, which docs are user-friendly, etc).   Very sad to see the need for internships; when nursing schools do their jobs, nurses graduate with enough knowledge to not need internships.  Most places have a skills checklist that has to be completed to a respectable degree before being turned loose, but those were pretty basic.   Nursing school used to teach us how to not kill someone on purpose- and be safe upon graduation.  Boards weeded out the rest. We still had things to learn, but we could take care of a patient without a babysitter.   Now  many schools are for-profit institutions that really don’t care about your education or if you did or didn’t learn something… it’s on you to be the best you can be.  Some schools are better than others- and some still care, but it seems that actually doing procedures has gone the way of the pterodactyl.

The entire six weeks I was inpatient for leukemia (on neutropenia precautions, so isolated), not one student nurse ever did anything but follow my assigned nurse around.  Most didn’t speak.   When did this happen?  We were giving meds the second week of class (with supervision) and added any procedure from catheters and NGs to IVs and wound care as soon as we got patients who needed them.  Hands on.  School should teach you that !

Technology is a great thing.  It’s great to be able to look up various disorders and meds, but it should never be a replacement for actual knowledge.  Passing boards in 1985 meant getting at least %60 of 1000 questions (ONE THOUSAND) correct (which I thought was horribly low- that’s a ‘D’ percentage-wise), during a two-day, four-part hand answered test (little boxes were filled in for computer scoring).  There was no ‘luck’ in getting 75 questions right, and then getting a license.  We had to get 600 or more questions right. It took about 3 months to get results.   And the next chance was 6 months away if you blew it.   Three tries, and back to school if you couldn’t figure it out by then.   The way it should be.  Competence… not laziness with looking something up, and then forgetting about it.  When someone is crashing, there’s no time for the internet or computers.  You need to MOVE, and do it right.  Knowing meds is a huge part of that.

Have you been the only nurse at a code on a neuro floor who knew to ask the doc running the code if he wanted a Foley inserted BEFORE giving mannitol?  (and why?). Then have him ask YOU what the dose should be?  Have you HAD to find an IV site in a vein as proximal to the heart as possible, to give adenosine to a 13-month old who went into SVT, and had crappy veins- and knew WHY it was important to get that vein so close to the heart?  Have you known how long D50 lasts after giving it for hypoglycemia (and that every patient is different, both in how fast their sugars come up- and drop, and how ‘low’ they can be and still take something orally instead?). Do you know that D50 is unpleasant, with a warm, ‘gotta pee now’ feeling?   Do you know that D50 will wear off before the cab gets there to take the patient home from the ER if you don’t give them some protein to stabilize their blood sugar?   If you work on a floor where someone can code, could be diabetic, have reactions to meds, etc., YOU need to know the possible meds you may need to help them, and anticipate what the doc may order. And anywhere you work, there is the possibility of someone having multiple medical conditions and medications.  All medication knowledge is valuable.

Do you know that the elderly can have paradoxical reactions to things like diphenhydramine? Or that they can even get delirium from meds like cimetidine?  Or that they are not great candidates for most psychotropics, because of reactions, as well as fall risks?   Do you know that benzodiazepines that are discontinued abruptly (in anyone who has taken them regularly, but with even smaller doses in the elderly) it can very likely lead to seizures?  Do you know what meds are benzodiazepines?

Maybe things are overall better than I’ve encountered, but with my own experience with more than one doctor’s office and more than one nurse, the medication knowledge is poor.  Nursing communication websites also talk about how nursing school glosses over a lot of things.   Get the pronunciation right.  Know how to spell meds, and what they’re for- even if just a ballpark idea.  READ your nursing medication reference books (or apps).  Know what to anticipate if you have a 12 week pregnant 15 year old with diabetes,  kidney failure,  and constipation after an appy… what will you do if you get an order for Milk of Magnesia from the doc on call, if you forget to mention that she has renal problems?  Will you question orders for NSAIDs if she has any type of  pain?

Newbies, NEVER let someone rush you into giving something that you have questions about.  New nurses who don’t ask questions are very scary beings.  I’ve worked in staff, charge, supervisory, and department head positions (with an ADN).  And my first question when I was in charge or supervising, when asking the current nurses about any newbies, was if they asked questions or not. IF they didn’t I was following them like white on rice.

Be proud of being a nurse.  Knowledge is power, and it will never be anything but a benefit. It will make you a more valuable employee.   And respected by your peers and supervisors. Patients also hope that you know at least as much as they do about most of their meds.  🙂

OK.  Done venting.  It’s 6:30 a.m. and I haven’t been to bed yet… I’ll come back and be my own grammar warden later on 😉

Pediatric Dream To Pediatric Nightmare

I went to nursing school for one reason. I wanted to be a pediatric nurse for the rest of my life.  I loved my pediatrics rotation in nursing school, and the time I spent volunteering on the pediatric floor on Sundays (also during nursing school).  I babysat a lot as a teenager, and worked in the church nursery for 11 years. Then the real world and real life happened.

I moved away from the Midwest to Texas in late 1985.  The hospitals there didn’t have pediatric floors at that time where I lived, so whatever the kid had wrong with them, they went to the floor that dealt with that problem.  I worked in neurology/neurosurgery, so I got the kids who were neurologically impaired/sick.  A four year old near-drowning was my first ‘real’ sick kid.  She’d never recover.  At four years old her life was over.

The next 16 years, I worked with various types of patients, including adolescent psych and general medical surgical patients in a community hospital.  In adolescent psych, it was rarely the kid who was the train wreck, considering what they came from.  I timed contractions on a 12 year old who was carrying her dad’s baby.  She was terrified (understandably) and would never be able to erase that part of her life.  I also worked with a kid whose step-dad bit his finger off because he got upset with the kid.  The kid was remarkably pleasant, and didn’t have a resentful or  defiant personality.  Wow. Survivor.

When I moved back to the Midwest for family reasons, I was thrilled to be offered a full-time job on a pediatric floor.  Once I’d finished orientation, I’d be floating to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) for any critically ill child, and also Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) with the preemies.  I couldn’t wait to get started.  After 17 1/5 years of being a nurse, I was finally getting to do what I’d really wanted to do.  My previous experience was incredibly helpful, so it wasn’t a wasted 17  1/2 years. Not by a long shot.

I hadn’t anticipated the horrendous circumstances surrounding the majority of babies and children I encountered.  The congenital limb deformities, ambiguous genitalia (can’t tell for sure if they were girls or boys), organ failure (and the skin color literally that of Kermit the Frog in bright sunlight), the horrendous abuse cases on babies as young as a month old, and other terrible accidents and neglect.  We did have the ‘routine’ tonsils and appendix removals, but those weren’t the norm- most of them don’t get admitted for those surgeries anymore.   Most of the kids that came through there were going to be permanently disfigured or chronically ill.  Some ended up in the local children’s nursing home.  And those NICU babies that had permanent disorders from being premature had to go somewhere when they got sick. Again.

A ten week old baby shouldn’t have a broken leg (in a tiny cast) because mom’s boyfriend got mad and tossed it off of the couch after twisting its leg.  A six pound, one month old baby who had weighed more at birth, and gone through heart surgery, shouldn’t be left in a room, tended to mostly by the household pet who would react differently when the baby smelled too much, thus alerting the ‘parent’.  A fifteen year old shouldn’t be twisted in muscle contractions, in a vegetative state due to some fluke illness years earlier.  A first-grader shouldn’t have the skin tone of a kiwi fruit because of a failing liver. A toddler shouldn’t have part of its scalp torn off from a very random accident involving a hot tailpipe, and not being seen when the car was backing up. That kid actually was lucky in a bunch of ways… staying alive with no permanent brain damage was pretty significant.  If it was on the news, I met the baby/kid in the story.

Babies shouldn’t be born three months early.  They shouldn’t be considered ‘big’ at four pounds (but considering the babies that weighed 1/4 of that, they were huge in that NICU environment). They shouldn’t be born with only parts of their heads formed, and not visited by their parents like the ‘normal’ preemies. They needed to be held and cuddled, too.  Even if they’re a mess.  They still can respond by calming down, and nestling into the arms of a stranger called a float nurse.  Don’t they deserve that?  Why did the charge nurse thank me for just treating that little partially-formed headed baby like a b a b y ?

A two year old shouldn’t have scalded genitals and buttocks because another boyfriend of the mom decided to dunk it in hot water, and hold it there. That two year old should have cried during dressing changes. The kid had no skin left on that part of its body.  The kid had already learned that crying was pointless.  That kid should have been laughing and smiling when interacting with adults- not looking for some sign of impending abuse. At least that kid was loved by the staff- and before leaving was guzzling juice and eating all the Cheerios he/she could eat.  The kid was very good at hollering and directing traffic in a high chair at the nurses’ station before being discharged to foster care.  That was a good thing. The kid got some ‘normal’ before leaving.  It’s sad that ‘normal’ didn’t happen until being in the hospital as a crime victim… at age two.

I hated when I got a call that social services was bringing a mom up for a supervised visit. This would be a mom that allowed her boyfriend to abuse her baby.  This would mean I’d have to be there to defend the baby. I hated when she showed up and was not much more than a kid herself, and had the ‘deer in the headlights’ look on her face.  She didn’t really know what was OK to do to a kid, or what her boyfriend was capable of doing. She’d probably been raked over the coals when she was a kid. That never excused anything, but it could explain some things. And for those moms, there was usually more hope in that she was teachable.  The interaction with the babies I saw was positive, when the moms bothered to show up at all. But mom was damaged as well.  It was lousy all around. I hated that my anger wasn’t justified by some monster showing up.  I just had more ‘kids’  to be angry about.

I ended up leaving for many reasons (one was my own declining health; another  huge one being the cut in hours in the summer when the kids weren’t in school giving each other all sorts of contagious diseases).  The abuse was a factor.  Injuring a child just didn’t mesh in my head.  I got very protective of those little kids.  Their crime was existing, and that’s not good enough to justify their reasons for being hospitalized. Nothing is good enough to explain hurting a kid.

Pediatrics was a good experience in that I got the experience, but overall it was a tragic mingling of chromosomes run amok, congenital mayhem, and sociopathic people in the kids’ lives.  I’m glad I worked there, and saw what is out there.  But my dream job ended up being a horrific showing of the worst of things that can happen, either biologically or by psychopathy, with an innocent baby or child on the receiving end.

I have a lot of respect for the vast majority of the nurses I worked with on that pediatric floor, the PICU, and the NICU.  It tore me up.  I know those other nurses cared as much as I did, but they handled it differently.  Most had their own families.  I was single and didn’t have kids, so there was no ‘balance’ of how kids should be, living at home.  I didn’t have distractions to make my life less one-sided.  It was all about those babies and kids.

Something for the nursing students and new nurses out there: You don’t see the full job when you are a student.  When you are new, everything feels crazy for up to several years (there is a LOT of information to put together to make you a fully functioning, competent nurse).  Don’t judge what you think you want to do based on what you think it really is.  Wait until you know your strengths before deciding what is the best place for you.  I spent 11 years working in a church nursery, and went to nursing school wanting to take care of precious babies.  I just hadn’t anticipated how they got to the hospital.  Keep an open mind about where you fit in the nursing profession.  It’s never how nursing school shows it.  I hated geriatrics in school, and loved my nursing home jobs as an RN.  I didn’t think much of drug and alcohol rehab or psych when I was in school, but truly enjoyed my five years combined of both.

You don’t know what you will like until you really know what it is you’ll have to do. 🙂