I am a nurse in an intensive care unit. It's a stressful job. Coming home to a quiet and serene house in the country has become very important to me. My home life is a stark contrast from my work life. Sometimes I wonder if I should try to match my work life to my home life and find a nursing job that's a bit less stressful. Other times I think the fact that they are so different from each other makes me appreciate them both more. I'm a firm believer in the idea that people who have a had a wide range of life experiences have a greater capacity to appreciate what is good in life. That's not saying that if life has always been pretty great you don't appreciate it. I am saying that a person who has been a rough situation may feel a stronger appreciation or take more note of a great situation. On a small scale, my work life "balance" mimics this notion.
Recently I spent a weekend doing yoga and then went back to work. Having found peace on a level I hadn't experienced in a while, the hustle and bustle of work was a bit of slap in the face. I made a consious effort however, to bring some of that calm I had felt over the weekend to the ICU. That's not easy. There are lots of things to be done, done fast, and there are consequences around every corner. But I thought I'd try.
On my first day back one of my patients was deeply religious. That's pretty common down here, but this man stated he was, "working for god". I'm not super religious but this patient and I developed a good rapport and had some interesting conversations. His wife was super sweet.
As the shift progressed it turned out he could use a unit of blood. Just one. Working in the ICU I have come to see giving blood as mundane a task as giving someone a liter of normal saline, or any other medication. Most of our patients will receive at least a unit or two during their stay. One night someone got 80 units. They weren't doing so hot. But to my patient a unit of blood was a big deal. In fact, he didn't give the doctor an immediate yes when it came to accepting the blood. He and his wife wanted to take some time and pray over it. Despite not being terribly religious, I was glad that this patient had reminded me that the things we medical people think of as no biggy really are big decisions. After the prayer they decided to go for it and I brought out the cold plastic bag of deep red blood. Little did I know the praying was not over and I was to be involved. They wanted to pray over the blood physically and asked me to join. The blood was flopped on the table and the three of us layed our hands over it, stacked like a sports team in a movie before a big cheer. My patient said a prayer and I proceeded to hook up the blood, check his heart rate, temperature and blood pressure and start on the pile of charting that accompanies every task I complete in my day. I liked our prayer. It made the task more meaningful for all involved and slowed me down in a good way. I secretly wished that every time we gave blood the patient requested a group prayer. My patient assignment had worked well with my goal of being peaceful at work.
Unfortunately, the next day kicked my butt.
Recently I spent a weekend doing yoga and then went back to work. Having found peace on a level I hadn't experienced in a while, the hustle and bustle of work was a bit of slap in the face. I made a consious effort however, to bring some of that calm I had felt over the weekend to the ICU. That's not easy. There are lots of things to be done, done fast, and there are consequences around every corner. But I thought I'd try.
On my first day back one of my patients was deeply religious. That's pretty common down here, but this man stated he was, "working for god". I'm not super religious but this patient and I developed a good rapport and had some interesting conversations. His wife was super sweet.
As the shift progressed it turned out he could use a unit of blood. Just one. Working in the ICU I have come to see giving blood as mundane a task as giving someone a liter of normal saline, or any other medication. Most of our patients will receive at least a unit or two during their stay. One night someone got 80 units. They weren't doing so hot. But to my patient a unit of blood was a big deal. In fact, he didn't give the doctor an immediate yes when it came to accepting the blood. He and his wife wanted to take some time and pray over it. Despite not being terribly religious, I was glad that this patient had reminded me that the things we medical people think of as no biggy really are big decisions. After the prayer they decided to go for it and I brought out the cold plastic bag of deep red blood. Little did I know the praying was not over and I was to be involved. They wanted to pray over the blood physically and asked me to join. The blood was flopped on the table and the three of us layed our hands over it, stacked like a sports team in a movie before a big cheer. My patient said a prayer and I proceeded to hook up the blood, check his heart rate, temperature and blood pressure and start on the pile of charting that accompanies every task I complete in my day. I liked our prayer. It made the task more meaningful for all involved and slowed me down in a good way. I secretly wished that every time we gave blood the patient requested a group prayer. My patient assignment had worked well with my goal of being peaceful at work.
Unfortunately, the next day kicked my butt.
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