Meaning In The Operating Room

My mom scheduled for it to be in 2 weeks. the day comes and i am nervous, i don't know why because i know what they do, i just was. They put my IV in and put medicine in my system to make me loopy. They wheel me back to the operating room, lay me on a table and put a mask on me. the anaistgyolygest say “ count down from 10 buddy” i say “10, 9, 8-” i am out cold. about 13 hours past, its 8 o'clock, the thing i remember most is how my throat was drier than the dessert. my nurse asks “how you feel buddy?” i reply “it hurts” she told me she would take care of that, i'm not being facetious when i say this, but she turns me on my side and puts a shot in my butt. i rest for another hour then they wheel me out to the car and take me home. getting upstairs was the hardest part,

I couldn't believe what was happening. My dad turns to the doctor and says "What do you mean ICU?" That's when she tells us I have bleeding in my brain and that I can't eat or drink and need an IV right away. I'm still so mad at my dad to this day because he promised me I wouldn't need an IV. After they get the needle in, they put a bunch of medicine into me and said that it would make me a little weird. "A little weird" wasn't even close to what it did to me. I thought I was going to have to get moved in a mental hospital after taking that medicine. I couldn't spell or talk and when I did talk nothing I said made sense. People were constantly texting me and I didn't know what I was typing so everyone responded with "what is wrong with you?" Honestly at this point I had no idea. My boyfriend was still here and was laughing at me because of how crazy I sounded but I was honestly scared and thought I was going to be this way forever.

Before realizing what was happening, a nurse was trying to put an IV in my arm. The needle compared to my little arm looked huge and too long to go in my arm. I refused to let them touch me and tried to run to my mom. When they had a hard time succeeding at putting my IV in, they decided to get help from my mom. She calmly told me to lay down and to watch her, while they put the needle in. It was hard to ignore the pain pulsing through my arm and all the commotion happening all around me. I looked at my mom and saw the tears that were falling down her face as they held me down. When they were done, there was an IV and a cast on my arm, so that I would not be able to pull the IV out. Then they wheeled me into another room where my mom held and comforted me, while we waited to hear the results.

Next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed. I remember clear as day having to get an IV in me but they had problems trying to get the IV in because my veins “roll”. It was not pleasant having to be poked several times. If I remember right I was

My dad caught up to us just as we were standing about to follow the nurse to the back. She navigated us to a small, cold room where I laid down on the neatly made bed. Her voice was nurturing when she quickly told me that she would first be taking my blood. My jaw clenched as the prick of the needle went into my pale white arm. She then left, to only come back a few minutes later holding the nastiest 2 bottles of berry smoothie that I had to drink in the next hour to have a cat scan.

Lying in the hospital bed, scratchy sheets gathered at my torso and a needle that could be hooked up to an IV was stuck into the bend of my elbow. I was looking out the door to the hall, watching the other kids in the pediatric ward that were not bedbound dress up in colorful costumes and hold a various assortment of items, most of them carrying small baskets or pillowcases as they went to the various nurse’s stations, calling out the ever cheerful “Trick or treat!” Before moving down the hall. I could not have been much older than four, watching the kids that were roughly the same age as I, pass through the hallways with small bags of candy. My mom came to me, a small pink bunny costume in her hands. I got dressed in the outfit quickly, eager to roam about the halls in my mom’s arms, to talk with the nurses and to get little fun sized candy packages. Each nurse that I came up to greeted me as though they had known me for my whole life, and for many of them it was true. I was in and out of the hospital when I was much younger, My illness had been discovered about the time I turned two months, I had a surgery called a Kasai procedure almost immediately after. The surgery allowed my body to drain the bile my liver produces into my intestines so that the buildup of bilirubins doesn't cause liver damage.

I went into the hospital room with my mother, got undressed, and changed into a hospital gown. A woman came into the room to put an IV into my arm, then I turned on the Food Network on the hospital TV. A few doctors came into the room, asking for my name, birthdate, and other questions for identification purposes. Later, my two aunts came into the room. A few minutes later, my surgeon walked in as well to tell me that she’d come back in about twenty minutes to wheel me away to the operating table. This made it even more surreal and made me even more anxious.

I was operated on at Seattle Children's Hospital. The surgery took around six hours, according to my mom. She said the stress of waiting for my surgery to be over while in the waiting room was worse than someone who was being held at gunpoint. All I can really remember from the whole experience are a few things. The hospital had a very friendly, almost warm feeling to it and I felt like I was going to be fixed. For the first time in my life, people would be able to understand me. I wouldn't have to repeat myself over and over again like someone who was visiting a country in which they barely knew it's language. I was excited and anxious due to the fact that I was at a hospital, seems a little ridiculous to be anxious. But, honestly who doesn't get a little bit anxious when they're about to be put to sleep and have doctors do surgery on your body that'll have a major effect on your life. Another thing I remember at the hospital was before preparing me for the surgery, the nurses were very sweet and kind to me. After the prepping, I recall being wheeled down the hallway to a room for the procedure. I said my goodbyes and “I love you’s” to the family members who were there, it was my mother, father and grandparents. I then went through a double, slightly padded or sealed, doorway which led to the operating room. I was then set down on a surprisingly comfy

I had no idea how I got to the operation room from the pre-op room or from the operation room to the post-op room. All I knew was that when I woke up I was in the post-op room. It took me awhile to fully wake up, as I was in and out of a haze for a few minutes. Once I was truly awake, I realized that my right foot was now in a boot and that it was also elevated. The nurse asked me if I was in any pain and if I needed anymore medication. After I said that I was fine, she took me to a separate room where my mother was waiting. While in this room, another nurse came in to ask me if I would like anything to drink or eat. Once I answered, she left and came back with apple juice and animal crackers. It was now around five o’clock and everything was coming to an end; we were almost ready to go home. To get me from the room down to the ground level and to the car I had to ride in wheelchair. This was my first time being in one myself. My mom and I had prepared for me possibly feeling out of sorts and not wanting to sit upright in the car on the way home. So, we packed blankets and pillows. After the whole backseat was ready and I was situated, we started home. On our way, we stopped once to get a sandwich for me because I was still hungry from not eating much that day.

Eventually I was brought up to my hospital room and I stayed there for almost a week. This was not a fun week by any means because I literally could not move at all. Another thing that I did not enjoy was the fact that I had my blood tested almost every two hours for at least four days. These tests were to check my blood count, because I lost a lot of blood and I was on the edge of needing a blood transfusion. It was my lack of blood that caused me to be very weak, but after a few days my levels returned to normal so I did not need a transfusion. I was hoping that maybe they would give me a transfusion because I didn’t like being so weak. My doctor thought differently, he refused to order a transfusion unless I absolutely needed one. This is because blood transfusions can be harmful in the bodies healing process after surgery. Even after my blood count stabilized I was still extremely weak and it made everything so much harder.

I was so out of it I turn to the ambulance personnel and said, “Y’all smell like cotton candy.” A dark and bumpy ride to the new hospital resulted in even more waiting, when we arrived my room wasn’t ready yet. Several different Doctors and nurses swarmed me like click work all asking the exact same questions in different forms until it was time for me to get prepped for surgery- surprisingly I was not nervous at all. The last thing I remember before anesthesia flew me away to dream land was music being turned on and talking about how I did my nails. When I woke up the first thing I asked for was water it felt like I swallowed the entire Dead Sea. I remember feeling so upset because the nurse who was with me during recovery kept on saying I had too wait. My grandmother had bought me a large smoothie from Smoothie King which instantly brighten the inconvenient situation. Even though it all happened so fast it is an experience that I will never in my entire life

After getting an IV put in, I found myself examining the various medical devices in the steri le room while I waited for the procedure to begin. Eve ntually the surgeon came in and explained what all would happen before they put me under. Being under anesthesia is a unique experience. All I remember is being told to count back from 10,

I kept waiting to feel the poke of a needle or the burn of the numbing medicine. Out of no where my leg kicks out as if someone hit my reflex, and I was reassured it was in. Five minutes go by and i'm so happy and excited, and luckily, pain-free. The nurse has me start pushing, I push as hard as I can for fourty-five minutes and she tells me to stop, rest and let her call the doctor. Dr. Rudeen came right in and prepped himself to deliver my little man. I kept pushing for another hour and a half and finally I heard the most precious, realest, loving cry I have ever heard in my life.

During this weeks clinical rotation I was given the opportunity to observe how nurses provide care in the post anesthesia care unit also known as the PACU. The PACU is a place where patients go after receiving surgery and anesthesia. The PACU provides patients with intense observation and care until the patient is stable enough to be discharged home or to another unit in the hospital. Last semester my fellow classmates and I was able to follow patients from the Preoperative area into the intraoperative room. After observing preop and intraop it was nice to be able to observe how care is managed postoperatively. After visualized how invasive many of these surgeries are its nice to know there is a place where patients are cared for until they

For the week reading I have readied about the different types of ritual that place an important in our life that I didn’t recognize as ritual. In Ritual in the operating room was about how there is ritual in science that serve to start establish boundaries, roles and make order. It talks about the ritual movements in the operating room, and the three stages in the operating room. One of the rituals of the operating room is scrubbing which is the process when people have to wash their hands and lower arms very carefully and precisely to remove any bacteria that might be on their body. In the operating room objects and people are classified as sterile or nonsterile. That in the operating room it expressive, symbolic, mystical, sacred and nonrationality