Holding Hands

I had to call in sick last night. Something I was loathe to do so new on the job, but the thought of starting an IV or inserting a foley while the room was spinning was enough to keep me home. I felt horribly guilty for hours afterwards...was I REALLY too sick to go to work? Would people think of me as a wuss? (stupid new grad!) Could I have pushed through?

It's been a rough night. After sleeping most of yesterday to prep for last night, I couldn't sleep a wink! It was miserable. My mind was constantly on the unit and what I could have (should have?) been doing. In the end I decided that I was more worried about my pride and reputation than my patients. Yes, I really was ill. And yes, that really warranted a sick call.

On a happier note, I've learned that nursing is really a vain profession. I've been complimented more times in the last 6 weeks than the last 6 years combined! Of course, 90% of my patients have poor vision, but still...

A couple of nights ago I helped admit a sweet old lady from the ER. She had been completely alert and oriented before going to sleep but when her IV started beeping in the middle of the night she became so confused. By the time I walked in she was trying to get out of bed and it took some time before I convinced her I was a nurse. She kept asking me where I was sleeping and apologizing for waking me up. I finally squatted down next to her bed, held her hand, and just talked with her about my job and how I was there to take care of her. She was quiet for about 30 seconds. I asked her if she was ok and she said, "I'm fine, honey. I'm just trying to find the words to thank you." Have I mentioned that I love my job?