MRSA

Welcome to the hospital. The first thing that you will need to is swab yourself for MRSA. MRSA is a resistant strain of staph bacteria that can be difficult to get rid of, so it makes sense that the hospital would want to screen people. I was prepared for a Q-tip up the nose since that is usually where we swab for screenings in the US, but it turns out that there are also other places that MRSA likes to hang out… the peri area (for any non-medical speaking people that basically means your crotch) and the natal cleft (butt crack). What an interesting way to be introduced to a new hospital. “Here is an exam room and some swabs. Don’t be embarrassed. Everyone has to do it.” I am just thankful that I didn’t have MRSA anywhere because I can’t imagine how embarrassing it would have been to have the charge nurse tell you that you have bacteria growing in your butt crack.

Earthquakes

The other night, I woke up to rumbling and shaking at 2:35 a.m. I laid in bed and thought, oh no, do I need to get out of bed? It slowed down and stopped pretty quickly, so I didn't actually get out of bed, but it was enough to keep me awake for a while that night. It was only a 4.3 aftershock, but that was enough to make me worry a bit.

People talk about the earthquakes frequently here. I find it in nursing notes in the patient charts. Things are dated as pre- or post-earthquake, as in cough started pre-earthquake. Conversations center around the damage and whether someone will have to demolish. People talk about the shaking. There is construction and rubble spread throughout the city. Some place were completely ruined while other were untouched. It's incredibly amazing that no one was killed. My nurse preceptor's husband works in construction, and she said that they have pretty strict building codes because of earthquakes, and it has saved lives. Many people are still worried about the quakes though. Patients at the hospital say that they can feel the aftershocks (probably because they are lying in bed) frequently. I never know if it actually a quake or if a truck is driving past.

Always on the wrong side…

I walk down the sidewalk and am perpetually doing that dance with the oncoming pedestrians; the dance where you shuffle the same directions back and forth trying to decide on which side you will pass each other. I nearly walk onto the escalator going wrong direction. I almost get run over by a bike because I look left before right when crossing the street. I peer into passing cars and discover an infant or, even worse, no one in the driver’s seat only to realize that I am actually looking at the passenger’s seat. They drive on the left side of the road here. They walk on the left side of the sidewalk. I am supposed to get on the left escalator. It’s funny how little things can be so ingrained into your actions without your conscious knowledge. I never realized that I look left before right when crossing the street. I love how being in a new place can show you the little habits that you are so unaware of. How life can be distorted in such subtle ways that make you stop and ponder why you do the things that you do.

I love how I can learn something new everyday, and not just when I am in school. Last weekend, I learned about paint and bikes.

It started with a bike. An adorable, tiny bike. Max's first pedal bike. The bike was originally hot pink and teal, and Max wanted a purple and orange bike. So I went about trying to paint it. The trouble started when I tried to disassemble the bike. A pile of tools and several YouTube videos later, I conceded that I would not be able to do it alone. Luckily, the nice man at the bike shop took the bike apart for me. Then I started spray painting. The next day, I woke up and went to put another coat of paint on the bike. Uh-oh. The paint started doing a weird crinkly thing. I asked my mom about it, and she informed me that it was because of the cold temperature. Apparently, you can't paint when it's cold. Oops. So then I had to wait for the paint to dry so that I could sand it off and then re-paint the bike. Since I had used most of the can of purple paint, I had to go buy a new one. After four different stores did not have the same purple paint, I finally settled on a different purple, which meant that I had to re-paint everything, not just the pieces that I had screwed up. Eventually the bike was the right colors and without crinkles. Then I had to re-assemble the darn thing. Jake and I tried for a long time to do it ourselves, but we couldn't get the pedals to move. We ended up taking the bike to Jake's roommate at a bike shop. I think that Carl was happy to put the bike together correctly for the sheer joy of riding it out of the shop afterward. Imagine a 6'3" guy on a bike with 12" wheels. Ridiculous. A woman asked, "Is that supposed to be a kid's bike, or is that a new trend?"

Paranoia
As my instructors calming explain the signs and symptoms of a disease, I silently freak out because I am convinced that I must have that very disease. It happens to me... a lot. This week, I am convinced that I have diabetes because I feel thirsty frequently. I have ovarian cancer because I feel bloated sometimes. I have pancreatitis because my stomach hurts sometimes. I have a brain tumor because I get migraines. I have hepatitis because one blood test showed that I had high serum bilirubin levels. Whatever we talk about in class, I can relate to myself. Unfortunately, we have been talking about pregnancy lately. I spent a large part of the last month wondering if I was pregnant. I did feel nauseous that one day. Luckily, it's easy to realize that you aren't pregnant. It's not so easy, on the other hand, to convince yourself that you don't have Gilbert's Syndrome. If I brought my doctor the list of what I think I could have, she would probably diagnose me with at least one thing... hypochondriasis.

Nursing School Thus Far

I am halfway done with nursing school, and I can’t wait until December (that’s when I graduate). Here is a quick recap of nursing school so far:

Summer 2009:
• Nurses care… a lot. There are many definitions for the word “care.” For example, I care about my grades too much and don’t spend enough time caring for myself.
• Anxiety can manifest itself in serious physiological ways. If you can avoid anxiety, do it.

Fall 2009:
• Psych- Neologism is when people make up their own words. Word salad is when people put together incoherent sentences that are impossible to understand. Paranoid schizophrenia. You can diagnose almost everyone in your life with some mental illness.
• Family/Community Nursing- Sometimes you try to do things to help, and it doesn’t work.
• Therapeutic Communication- Don’t ask why. Instead, say “tell me about that.” In fact, always say “tell me…” Anything else may not be therapeutic.

January 2010:
• Nursing school will teach you some skills, but on a mannequin and not a real person. Just because you may not get to put a catheter into a real person during school doesn’t mean that you should practice on your friends. When you get to finally try it out on a real patient, smile and say “Don’t worry. I am really good at this.”
That brings me to Spring 2010. During the first half of the semester, I finally began to feel like an actual nurse. I feel cool walking around with a stethoscope around my neck, but wearing a white jacket makes me feel like a poser-doctor.

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