Today’s shift is eventful. We have 6 level 4 patients; q1 monitoring, with dropping O2 saturations, and lots of other problems, we have 52 patients now (including those 6 critical patients), and last but not the least, I managed to accidentally hit my face with a wrench.
Yes. A wrench.
It’s the same as how your phone succumbs to gravity when you’re lying on your bed. I was changing oxygen tanks (we don’t have those centralized oxygen things, sorry) and being my tall self, I was only at eye level with the gauge. Then there was this guy thinking that I don’t know my way around a wrench, so I tried to prove him wrong , because I know my shit around mechanical stuff. So I loosened the claw part thing, then it slipped on the nut, because I forgot to readjust it.
It doesn’t hurt that bad, but it looks like I’ve been involved in a fist fight.
Oh and I never did prove that person wrong, which pisses me off. He does mean well though, I mean in a fatherly sort of way. I was just pissed because he is not my father. And maybe I just miss my father.
I haven’t been able to update that much because I sleep as soon as I get home. Night shift sucks but I like it because there’s not much people around, so I don’t have to talk that much.
I have a co-trainee, S, I don’t hate her, I just hate how unprofessional she is sometimes. She’s always late, as in 10-30 minutes late for the shift and she doesn’t work immediately, she would look for food or fix her hair. Also, her uniform is incomplete most of the time. At least she’s snappier now, according to our seniors.
Our seniors are used to her by now, they reprimand her now and then but she do it again anyway. One of our female staff, J, is more vocal about S’ faults, and S thinks that J hates her, which is not the case. I mean, of course you would be reprimanded time and time again if you keep on coming late.
S is nice though, aside from being tardy, she’s nice. She’s a bit slow, but she’s nice.
My family isn’t really the warm and nurturing type. It’s not soap opera dysfunctional, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that we profess our love in sarcasms and veiled insults.
My parents are subtly manipulative, they can talk you into doing things, especially if you’re highly suggestible, like me. For example they talked me into taking nursing, I wanted a different course, but they convinced me that taking this path will be good for our family. Also that I sucked at math, so computer science is out of the question, they are saving me from a bad thing —math.
Don’t get me wrong, I do love my parents, and I know they mean well. It’s just that sometimes I want them to really listen to what I really want. I just wish they’d stop punching holes in my dreams. Making me feel that I am not good enough for them. I just wish that they can stop making me feel like I’m just a pawn in their plans.
Maybe it’s why I am not happy in my chosen (their chosen) career. Don’t get me wrong, I am content, I love the patients, I’m just never happy.
I feel wretched. Maybe it’s because of hormonal imbalance, I don’t know. I just feel miserable. I hope I won’t go there again.
I hate having the blues. It feels like being trapped in a dark room, or a vacuumed chamber. Everything looks bleak. I feel like I hate everything and everything hates me. I feel vulnerable, and I hate feeling that way.
I don’t want to go to work, but I have to. It is my off day after anyway. So it’s ok. I’ll probably just sleep this off.
Last night, my senior told me that her first loss was her grandfather. She was 20 then, just graduated from nursing school. She lost him to cancer, she wasn’t able to talk about it for years without crying.
I almost told her that I lost my father, my first death, and that I lost him to diabetes, a fairly manageable disease and not as fatal as cancer. I almost told her that I almost want to die everyday of my four years of nursing school because I lost him when I was a freshman. That I got angry with both myself and my father; me for not knowing what I can do to help him, and him because he didn’t have the discipline nor the will to live for us. I almost told her that I have to suppress my feelings and my grief because I don’t have the time to mope around and avoid hospitals or sick people, because that is where I work.
Almost. Almost. I almost opened myself up to her but I didn’t.
And it is not because she would be unwilling to hear me out. It’s just that I am tired of people pitying me. I am tired of opening wounds that I have been trying to patch up again and again. I am tired of blaming myself for what happened. I am tired.
My OJT in the other hospital is over and I think I will be hired soon. All thanks to my godmother. I don’t want it to be too soon, I still want to finish my training in my current hospital but I need to be practical. I need the money.
I will miss my colleagues. My seniors have been really nice to me, and I learned a lot from them.
Let’s just see what happens.
P.S. mood has been stable. Still up for career change, though not depressed about current situation anymore.
I was in for an interview at the other hospital yesterday and I am supposed to work there for a week as part of the evaluation. I am sort of anxious. I want to finish my residency in my current hospital as I am getting attached to the people there, although this is too good an opportunity to miss out on. I mean I would get paid here, and it is not a contractual position, and it is a tertiary hospital. But then again, it is a government hospital, so I probably won’t get hired until next year, hopefully February.
I am also interested in this other hospital because I sort of asked to be put in research. I sort of like research, I just hated it in college because of my group mate. So there.
I just feel out of it because I am already used to this institution, I have already adjusted, then suddenly I will be dealing with a new set of people and new set of rules.
It will just be for a week anyway. Then I will be back to my ward.
Also, update. My patient has been steadily improving and it makes me happy. On the flip side though, one of our patients returned after 2 weeks, he went home against medical advice and now he is back and he is worse than before.