Meaning In The Operating Room

Approximately 24 hours after my surgery another nurse came and demanded that I get up out of the bed to take a shower even though I told her the pain was just too great. I could hardly speak or move, but somehow I found the inner strength to block the pain and get up, so I could get it over with and she would leave me alone. When I got to the restroom that is when my mother shouted, “she’s bleeding all over the floor!” My standing up had caused the wound to open up and blood poured out. The nurse grabbed a wheelchair and quickly pushed me back to the bed. I told the nurse, “I feel like I’m going to faint.” She laid me on the bed and I heard her ask the nurse assistant, “What is her blood pressure?” The nurse assistant responded, “70/40.” “Call the doctor!” exclaimed the nurse. I did not have the strength to speak, but I could hear everything around me. Luckily the doctor just happened to be at the hospital performing a cesarean section and so he came quickly to my room. I heard him telling the nurses to give me blood and he began to do a sonogram on my abdomen. “What is taking so long for the blood to get here?” he yelled down the hallway. The nurses brought the bags of blood and hooked them up to my IV. There wasn’t enough time to properly heat the blood and I still remember the feeling of ice-cold blood entering my

I woke up startled and didn’t know where I was. I had an IV in my arm and my parents were staring at me. The doctor came in

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.

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,

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

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.

They had to run so much tests and questions before surgery it was so annoying. Later I find myself laying in bed getting everything connected on me so I could go to the surgery room. They said it would take about thirty minutes to finish the process of the surgery. When they came to get me I literally started to scream “wheeeeee” in the hallway while they pulled me away from my room. As I entered the surgery room it became so cold that my breath could be visible. Later a guy started to explain to me on what their going to do and how they're going to put me on the

Once he left my mother and I spent a few more moments together until the nurse anesthetist returned with medication to put me to sleep. The nurse inserted the dosage into my IV, the anesthesia burned as it passed into me through the tube. A few minutes later they came and started to roll me away, I entered a cold room as I looked around I noticed my white board with my name on it was well as the surgery the surgical team would be performing. After they asked me to transfer myself onto the table, I groggily tried to keep my eyes open. My doctor had appeared in the room, and as he was positioning my wrist darkness over took me.

Next, the nurses came to put water into my IV to hydrate me. They did this since I also could not drink the day of the procedure. Afterwards, they put some type of medication into my IV, I could tell as soon as they did. Immediately I felt tired and almost in a daze. However, I was still aware of everything that was going on around me. During all of this, I had received a blanket to use that had a hose connected to it blowing hot air into the blanket that made me very warm. This blanket was my favorite part of the day of the surgery. After this, someone else came in to do a nerve block in my knee. A nerve block is what they did to numb my right leg from my knee down so that I would not have as much pain after the surgery. While they did this, I could feel the four inch needles slowly sliding into my knee. This was not painful as you might think, it was almost like a pinching sensation. While doing the nerve block they had to do a ultrasound on my knee so they would not hit any nerves they did not want to. The last thing that I remember before the surgery was the anesthesiologist coming into my pre-op room to give me anesthesia. Then I went under.

However, once we arrived at the hospital and the waiting began, anxiety began to creep in again. My parents tried to comfort me with small talk, but I couldn’t focus. I could only think about the surgery, particularly how the surgeon would stab an IV into my hand. I kept envisioning the stabbing pain that would carry from my hand up my arm. The surgeon finally came in and asked if I had any questions and to tell me that the operation would start shortly. “Is there any way I can wear a mask instead of having a needle? I hate needles.” My surgeon, a kind looking older gentleman said gently, “No, you’re too big for that. We can give you laughing gas though if you-” I nodded enthusiastically. “ Alright, laughing gas it

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.

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.

“The Process Improvement in Stanford Hospital’s Operating Room” case has many issues when it comes to regards to its existing instrument provisioning process taking place within the Operating Room (OR) of Stanford’s Hospital. This process entails getting instruments ready for a surgery in the OR and the cleansing of these instruments afterwards; however, there are many problems that arise in this process.