Today my clinical experience was in the ICU. It was very hard for me. Three patients made up my day:
Patient number one;
This elderly man had a DNR order. He was stable and recovering from respiratory distress after having pneumonia. His grandson was with him the entire time. The nurse was treating him well and he was responding to treatment. However, his heart stopped. And we couldn't do anything. His grandson was crying and we just stood there. It was sad, but it was his wishes. It was my first realization of what critical medicine entails, but it didn't turn me away yet. The care the nurses provided for him, and even his grandson, was extremely admirable.
Patient number two:
A 27 year old girl. She was suffering from cystic fibrosis amongst other autoimmune diseases. She had been in and out of the hospital for years and she was wanting to give up. She was refusing treatment,,,, unless her parents were in the room. They were encouraging her to continue treatment and do everything possible and she would do whatever they said when they were in the room. Her parents were gone and she was struggling to communicate her wishes with us. The nurse went to give her meds and she didn't want them. However, she couldn't speak, so she kicked my knee. Even though I was in pain, I had so much pity for the poor girl. She was simply ready to give up. It really made me aware of communication and patient rights. The nurses should have done a better job at communicating care and getting her permission. And it made me realize that I need to make sure that I provide that level of care to my patients. I have to take the steps to provide my expectations of care.
Patient number three:
This was by far my hardest patient. She wasn't my nurse's patient, but she was next door. I knew her. She was a friend, coworker, and camp counselor. I saw her laying there, struggling and pail. It was hard. I found out that she had tried to commit suicide by putting herself into insulin shock. She has type 1 diabetes. I also have type 1 diabetes. She was my camp counselor for years at diabetes camp and eventually became a good friend once I became a counselor myself. I didn't know she was struggling with mental health issues. She was always the light of the group. But to know that she, like most type 1's, was also struggling was hard to accept. It made me accept the reality of medicine. You never know who is going to be in the room. You never know who is going to have issues. And you never know who needs help. This drove me further into medicine itself. If I ever had any doubt, it is gone now. I wanted to run in there and help her, but I was only shadowing. I want to be the support they need. I don't want them to feel alone. I want to help them live, no matter what their problems are. I want to listen. So I will become the best that I can be so that I can provide the best level of care to others. Both in the hospital and in life.
Today made me a little confused. I'm not sure if I want to do intensive care anymore, but I know I have to do something. I know that I want to make the difference in someone else's life. I want to help.
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