Epidemic Rotation Definition

My work day began the night before my shift started, as I received an email from my supervisor and was pleased to see my favorite patients on my list. Anna was scheduled first on my itinerary. She had become a quadriplegic after a serious fall down a flight of steps. Next was Mr. William, who was dying of a brain tumor. This man had the best attitude towards life, and always kept me laughing. My last patient of the day was Mrs. Patsy. She was very dear to my heart, and I had grown very close to the family, because I had been seeing her for over six months. Every time I walked into Mrs. Patsy house, she wanted an update and recent pictures of my children. It is unusual to have everyone agree on the scheduled time, but this warm summer evening was the exception. Tomorrow’s schedule was looking great and I was ready to get some rest.

I remember my fingers leaving shallow depressions on her cold pale skin. As the Paramedics left the room, they sadly instructed us to say our goodbyes and that they would be back shortly. If I had known she was going die, I would have said more to my grandma when she kissed me on the cheek the previous day. Our large family sat in the living room crying as my grandma was placed in a large black bag before being taken away. That sorrowful morning I watched as the paramedics unsuccessfully attempted to resuscitate my grandma. This frightful and gloomy experience would inspire me to one day save lives. After witnessing a patient code, working as patient care technician (PCT), and experiencing the sincere generosity of two physicians, I became certain that I wanted to be a doctor.

One of my recovery goals is to write my book about 50 years of medical disasters and yet hold on to one’s enthusiasm for life.” In his time of need he asked for help from the only people he has left to call ‘family’, people he’s helped and loved immensely for over a decade. They don’t offer help even though they have the means to do so. When asked for some compassion and assistance, they say they will pray for him and not much else. “This crisis has shown me that once I can heal up and work again, some big changes are going to be necessary.”

My day began following Charity to the pre-op area where we joined the anesthesia team prepping the 60-year-old patient for a Right Inguinal Hernia Repair. Charity went over the consent documents, quizzed the patient about possible allergies, pre-medications, NPO status as well as their general state of well-being. I noticed that she

Having stood beside my husband for nine months as he struggled through a massive brain injury gave me a firsthand perspective of the power of nurses. Although I had been a new nurse at the time, this experience completely changed my viewpoint. Their compassion, empathy, knowledge, and trust was unprecedented and helped me through many painful days. Devastatingly, after a courageous fight, my husband passed away. This was undoubtedly the most heartbreaking experience in my life.

Even through all of my years in medical school, I still could not come to an understanding that medical professionals could not save all of their patients. Julia’s death haunted me, I couldn’t sleep thinking of all the ways I could have saved her and when I did sleep I had nightmares of her death. I began to feel depressed, and lost my confidence as a physician. No amount of schooling could have prepared me for dealing with the physical and emotional stress of my first patient dying, especially one I had frequently treated. If I had been treating a patient in my own home, I would have dropped to my knees and sobbed. Something about the location of a hospital numbs emotion, and I felt like I wasn’t allowed to be upset at Julia’s death. The other nurses enjoyed working with Julia as well, but I seemed to be the only one unable to deal with her death. The entire community turned upset, Julia was inspiring to both medical staff and the other refugees who knew her from their escape. The atmosphere was cold, like a warmth had been stripped away from it. I began to distance myself from my patients, and the other staff who had worked with her took note and saved me from going into depression. The other doctors and nurses knew how young as a physician I was, and the likeness I had formed with Julia. They gave me the best advice on how to deal with a patient dying; death is inevitable and medical professionals are grieve but also have other patients in need of

Working as a Patient Care Technician has taught me that hospitals are a special kind of library. The halls are not lined with books, but are still lined with stories. Every patient I encounter has a unique story; some are triumphant, and others heart wrenching. Nonetheless, there is something meaningful to be learned from each one. What I love most about my job is that my care becomes part of their story. Sometimes all I can offer to my terminal cancer patients is a warm blanket in the middle of the night. Seeing a patient’s eyes glisten and mouth widen in appreciation of something that you have done is rewarding. Knowing that I have eased even one story makes the less glamorous aspects of my job worthwhile. Through this experience I have encountered many stories with different plots, characters, and settings. Every time I walk in the hospital I am overcome with excitement at the prospect of learning a new story where the characters are tangible. It is a privilege to be a part of someone’s story, even if all we can offer is an act of kindness. One thing is certain,the stories I have encountered will always remain on my

This hospital is affiliated with Compassionate Care Hospice, which allowed me to meet Nancy. Nancy pleasantly confirmed consent for me to interview her over a span of two days. Nancy has been diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic cancer. The first memories Nancy could recall was when she was four years old. She is the eldest of three sisters and she grew up on a farm in New Jersey. She remembers learning how to milk a cow, her father taught her. She grew up with a mother and a father. Her mother was strict but still a loving woman. Her father was the head of the household, the only male, and “he ran the show”. Her sisters were both younger, one is two years younger and the other is four years younger. Nancy’s grandmother died of lung cancer when she was ten years old, her grandmother was of great importance to her. Church was a huge part of her life, she grew up as a Roman Catholic. She has had the measles three times and the chicken pox. She never had any dangerous accidents or was ever in a dangerous situation. Nancy enjoyed being a girl and loved playing with her

All patients in the hospital have a story behind them that brought them to the hospital. Being a nurse for nine months, some patients have left a footprint in my mind and heart. One such patient was Mrs. R. She was diagnosed with a tumor in her abdomen which then metastasized to her lungs. It was a weekend morning, in which I was getting reports on my patients. The previous shift nurse gave the report on Mrs. R and told me that she was forty-six-year-old Hispanic woman with metastasized cancer to the lungs. Patient recently came to know about the diagnosis and never had any symptoms or pain, but the patient was in the last stage. When I went into the patient room to introduce myself, I found that the patient had been crying for whole night.

It was clumsy and awkward but I knew it was important to give her my attention as the nurses were running back and forth between patients. We sat and sang together, or rather I sang and she babbled. I was just getting comfortable when her feeding machine beeped signaling completion. During my time at Maryville, I played video games with a pre-teen with Duchenne muscular dystrophy, read books to a toddler with short bowel syndrome, and massaged Vaseline into the thickened skin of a baby with harlequin ichthyosis. I watched as a 23-month-old boy who spent most of his life attached to a ventilator began learning to walk and gaining the same independence his peers developed so naturally many months earlier.

The summer before 11th grade, I volunteered at the Baylor College of Medicine Sue and Lester Smith Breast Infusion Center. While there, I assisted the nurses with making the breast cancer chemotherapy patients get comfortable with snacks and blankets, organizing medical supplies. However, since all these tasks didn’t take too long, I often had majority of my day to spend time with the patients. I gave them company during their 2-4 hour long chemotherapy treatment and listened to their anecdotes about life and advice for me as I continued high school. By the end of the summer, I knew all of the patients inside out ; name of their dogs, their favorite ice cream flavor, their most memorable vacations. However, one of the patients really affected my take on life.

As a patient care volunteer at Chandler Regional Hospital’s surgical/orthopedics department, one particular patient exemplified the difference one state of mind can make. I had been doing my weekly room check-ins when I met Mary, a patient who had knee surgery following a car accident she had been in. When I asked what she needed, she requested a glass of water and a warm blanket for her husband. I was struck by how attentive she was towards his needs considering she had just been in surgery a day earlier. She later shared that her husband was in fact undergoing cancer therapy.

I usually be at work at 7:30 am which an hour before I begin my first session with adult patient. I grab both patients’ sences to review the update patients and diagnosis. Also, I prepare for the upcoming session by choosing a proper and congener theme and activity for the

In the Psychiatric Epidemiology course syllabus, a discussion question that is raised for the sessions on “Somatoform Epidemics as Emergent Social Behaviors” is whether mental and behavioral disorders are contagious. While the current recommended and required readings for these sessions provide strong evidence for the transmittable qualities of somatic illnesses, they primarily describe somatic epidemics in Western, post-industrialized settings. The addition of the article “Trauma and loss as determinants of medically unexplained epidemic illness in a Bhutanese refugee camp (2001)” to the course would provide students with an example of somatic illness in a setting where it is less studied and understood.

I walked onto my dimly lit orthopedic/medical surgical unit as a novice nurse at around 6:35 am. We were often short staffed and sometimes the nursing office would call at this