- It felt so good just to sit down. I was unaware of how wonderful it would feel to simply allow my muscles to relax, and cease the constant tensing motion in which they had been subject to for the last few hours. It was like I could finally let out the pent-up breath that had been caught in my throat, anticipating the next decline, or unexpected change in vital signs. I took a long swallow of my drink. It had been a diet drink served over ice. The ice had long ago melted, after its purchase hours prior, and the temperature of the soda was almost the same as the room. But in that moment, it was the best drink I had ever had. I’m sure the cupped hands into an oasis pool after having crawled through the desert could taste no more satisfying than my watered down diet soda did at that moment. To simply be away from the declining numbers, pinging alarms, and pull on the straw out of the condensation covered styrofoam was pure ecstasy.
- So many times it can come like that, so fast and unexpected, that the reality and depth of the situation has little time to take effect. Instead of mulling it over, you are left with only the option to react. The happy fella resting comfortably becomes a man unable to breathe, covered in sweat, and displaying numbers on the screen that are incompatible with life. At first, calm clarity comes. Action is taken to resolve the issue at hand. Often, this is not enough, and additional measures are required. So, you keep going. You keep trying the next thing. You keep a level head and a steady voice. Your hands don’t shake, for that is not allowed. You smile for family, trying to infect them with your calm demeanor. Even if your heart is beating fast, you resemble a duck on the water, gliding smoothly across the surface, never alerting anyone to the frantic paddling below the water line.
- It begins to weigh on you, as time keeps ticking, and nothing is working. You feel frazzled, as if your tiny brain might just explode from the sensory overload, but you keep your wits. You have to because you’re a nurse, and that’s what you do. This is what you were made for, to stand in the phase of doom, and hold up your hand, sternly proclaiming, “Not today, not on my watch.” Just when you begin to truly wonder if you can keep fighting the stubborn decline, as you fear the scream inside you may just escape, and become audible to all; things settle down. Things become right once again. As quickly as it came, it is done. You don’t quite catch the gravity of the situation until someone has the kind thought to say, “Good job. You saved that man’s life.” You’re taken aback at first, then you realize, Wow. I did, didn’t I! It seems sometimes that your actions appear so commonplace to you that you forget the awesome weight of the job you perform. Then you walk away, and you almost cry. The reality hits, or maybe the pent-up frustration, but either way, you feel as if you could cry a river of relieving tears. But you don’t. That’s not what you do. You continue to your next task, as your blood pumps, full of chewed up nails and diamond dust, because that’s what a nurse is made of. You have the nerves of steel when faced with crisis, the resolve of a brick wall when challenged, an amazingly powerful personality that can take every insult and angry word thrown your way, but can make a 360 degree turn to an overflowing fountain of compassion when a crying family member needs to hold your hand, or hug your neck. You leave for the day unsure if you can do it again tomorrow, but you will, and you do, because that’s what nurses do. That’s who you are.
That is all 🙂