Some Things I Love - Others .. Not So Much

I continue to learn epic amounts of information on a daily basis.  

I've learned what 1-chloro-2,4-dimethylhexane is, and I can probably even draw it, given enough scratch paper.  

I've learned that there are 2 strains of HIV, and within those 2 strains there are at least 9 subtypes, and that the subtype found most commonly here in North America is one of the less aggressive types.  The drugs we have here probably wouldn't even touch the aggressive strains found in Africa.  

I've learned how to take out staples and stitches, assess a patient just coming out of surgery, and how to classify wounds.  

I've learned how bacteria become resistant to our antibiotics, and how dangerous it is not to finish your full prescription! 

All these things are neat, and essential, things to know in the nursing field.  

There are other not so neat, but essential, things I've learned.  Like how to totally invade a patients privacy.  It's really not my idea of a good conversation starter when I have to ask, "So, when was your last bowel movement?" And even worse, "Please describe it for me." 

Or when I have to go into a complete isolation room with a gown, gloves, booties, and a PAPR mask with an air purifier, that's been hooked to my waist, and is also connected to my mask at the back of my head.  Anyone ever tried to draw blood while wearing a space suit?  'Cause I'm pretty sure I qualify for the NASA astronaut program now.

Despite all these things, good and bad, I've discovered why I'm going to love being a nurse.  I get to take care of people.  Not just pretty people.  Rich people .  LDS people.  Fun people.  Nice people.  Sane people.  People with good credit.  Nice clothes.  BMW's. Skinny people.  I get to take care of everybody and anybody who walks through those doors.  

And it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if they are an alcoholic who's addiction has now caused cirrhosis of the liver.  Or if they're a smoker of 45 years who now has lung cancer.  Or the college student who was in severe car accident.  Or the obese woman, who because of chronic depression had trouble controlling her weight and now has diabetes.  Or the athlete who, despite all her training and good nutrition, still developed breast cancer.  I get to take care of them all.  

And I don't get to pass judgement, or throw blame.  I get to sit with them and hold their hands while they cry, and listen while they express their sadness and fear.  I get to comfort them.  I get to try and control their physical pain, as well as try to help them work through their emotional turmoil.  I get see a glimpse of them as their Heavenly Father sees them, and love them despite their faults or life choices.  

This is why I love nursing.  It is an art.  The art of caring.