Archives: February 2007
I am in the beginning stages of the painful migration/upgrade of my blog.
Although my hosting company and MovableType have both served me well, I need some change to spice up my work here.
That, and I STILL can’t get comments to work for Dawn…grrrrrrr.
Okay, I have fully flipped into “nerd nurse blogger” mode.
Suggestions anyone?
Diary of a Trauma Nurse is written by Cory, an ER Nurse from the middle part of the country. Her stories capture the essence of emergency nursing.
Trauma Queen is written by Kal who, “…trundles around Edinburgh, Scotland flashing blue lights and making ‘Mee-maw’ noises while swearing at taxi drivers. He also, on occasion, practices a little emergency medicine, though most of the time he’s a glorified taxi driver.”
And last but by no means least…
ER RN is written by Julie who is, obviously, an ER nurse. She had me with the first post I read when she admitted to being addicted to porn—”Emergency Nurse Porn.”
You know? Maybe someday, through all of this writing, we will be able to shed some of the stereotypes that nurses carry.
EDIT: Just realized I didn’t have Dawn’s site White Scrubs on the blogroll either. Geesh have I been neglecting things! Sorry Dawn!!!
Am I missing anyone else? Let me know and I will put you up…
It is amazing how many questions a curious 4 year old boy can ask.
It is even more amazing how much Auntie Em wanted to impress her nephew with “her helicopter.”
There are times in the field of flight medicine when the best thing you can do for your patient is simply fly faster.
My patient was still fairly young, not quite in his 70′s. His initial presentation confused his eventual diagnosis of dissecting aortic aneurysm. In short, the enormous main blood vessel which carries blood away from the heart to the rest of the body was tearing. That was when we were called. His diagnosis was too critical for the surgical and ICU capabilities available at the hospital closest to his home.
The patient smiled through his oxygen mask when I introduced myself. Although the mask was keeping his oxygen saturations just high enough, he still tried to talk with me.
Leaning close, I quietly asked if had been in a helicopter before.
“Sure, lots a long time ago.”
“In the military?” I asked.
“Yes,” was his answer, simplified by his apparent air hunger.
“Well, Doctor W and I are both in the Army,” I smile broadly, “So you are in really good hands.”
This was one of the times I was again glad we cannot read minds. He didn’t need to know that our capable hands were not the ones he needed most.
I asked if he is in pain, which he denied, so I continued on, explaining the process of his transfer and what would happen during our flight.
My outward calm was covering my hidden inward anxiety. Time was not only critical because of his extremely guarded condition but bad weather was also moving in.
We moved with a definite purpose racing not only his tearing blood vessels, but also the storm. The unpredictable local weather was threatening freezing rain. The winds carried very ugly clouds toward us and were blowing with a purpose.
For this gentleman, on this day, the tail wind was fortuitous.
Sometimes we just go fast. Other days, we have help in going faster.
Change of Shift nursing blog carnival is hosted by PROTECT the AIRWAY this week.
After sitting through multiple dry presentations this week (and a few really good ones) I had the unexpected opportunity to hear my beloved Army speak. Okay, it was a group of mostly Army, with a few Navy and Air Force orthopaedic surgeons, speak about treating wounded Warriors injured in Iraq and Afghanistan. It was all I could do to not shout the Army catch all word “HOOAH†when I saw the MEDEVAC helicopters and hear them mention the nurses.
More interesting was the “briefing†(Army word for lecture or presentation) given by Cavalry Officer Major David Rozelle. MAJ Rozelle was the first soldier to not just return to active duty after an amputation during OIF II, but returned to the field of battle, not a desk.
After following his personal saga, mostly through blackfive.net both here and here, I was thrilled to actually hear him speak. Following the presentation I introduced myself by rank, grateful for a true reason to call him Sir. In his easy going manner that just oozed the confidence I remember in other dynamic Army leaders (H.R. McMaster, Marty Leners–incidently also Cav officers) he smiled, shook my hand and asked my Army branch.
“Nurse Corps†I replied.
He smiled and said, “Oh, you are one of the angels.â€
That acknowledgment went straight to my heart.
My God how I miss taking care of soldiers
.
Okay, so I am sitting in the airport in a rocking chair next to a very coveted outlet. I have my phone charging through the USB port, listening to Eddie Izzard and cracking up. It is amazing how many strange looks you can get by simply sitting in a chair.
Maybe it has something to do with the stickers on the back of my computer.
Who knows.
Okay, so it took me over three hours of pain and suffering to find an appropriate business suit and shoes yesterday worthy of standing in front of a few hundred audience members. I guess that part of me needs to be worked on. BUT, the vodka and OJ on the first leg of my flight is making me one happy flight nurse.
I also forget the interesting social atmosphere related to the professional person’s “summer camp.†Next to me on the plane is a biomedical company rep who is headed to the same conference. Conversation is easy and the general TDY* (what happens on TDY, stays on TDY) attitude is apparent. Interesting that he is in the aisle seat very unaware that I am writing about him. I got a lucky break with an empty middle seat so my inner tech geek is able to spread out in all of my battery and cord glory.
Maybe I will attempt to live blog the very boring conference. WiFi in the main room will be like a winning scratch off ticket. Expected, but a pleasant surprise nonetheless.
*TDY is an Army Acronym for Temporary Duty
My main accomplishment so far? Returning the movies before they were due.
When I don’t have time to write I want to. When I do have time to write, I can’t think of anything.
So, instead of tackling my to do list, I sit here on my bed, cradling my laptop, wondering why I can’t seem to get anything together.
Lack of ambition? Yes. And no.
Maybe I will feel better after a nap.
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