My Nurse Monologue

Today is the day. Today is finally the day that I am to be released from the psychiatric hospital since that day when I passed out. I know last time you heard from me, I was broken and unhappy and had hate for the world, but i'm in the best state i could ever be, I really am I tell you. Oh how excited I am to see old Phoebe. I haven’t seen her since i’ve been admitted into this wing of the hospital. Oh I wonder how much she has grown< She was so intelligent and pure, nothing could ever compromise her. So I hope nothing hasn’t. I was retrieving most of my belongings before I left, when I happened to run into old Ms. Patty. This was my nurse and oh, how lovely she is. “Oh hello Holden, leaving so soon ?” she said so to me with great compassion. Naturally I said, “Why yes sadly, I must go on with myself and enjoy the world, perhaps find myself a woman”, I said this suave as hell, I tell you.

The parents came out of Grandma’s room by one by one, bags under their eyes, makeup running down their face, and bright red noses. By that time, I could almost predict what happened. As my mom and dad approached us with their heads down, I prepared myself to hear exactly what I never wanted to hear. “The doctors are turning off the life support machine. She isn’t suffering anymore, and she will be looking over every one of you guys. She said she loves you all so much,” Mom told us while my dad didn’t hide his tears back.

he AIDS hospice reeked from disease and neglect. On my first day there, after an hour of "training," I met Paul, a tall, emaciated, forty-year-old AIDS victim who was recovering from a stroke that had severely affected his speech. I took him to General Hospital for a long-overdue appointment. It had been weeks since he had been outside. After waiting for two and a half hours, he was called in and then needed to wait another two hours for his prescription. Hungry, I suggested we go and get some lunch. At first Paul resisted; he didn’t want to accept the lunch offer. Estranged from his family and seemingly ignored by his friends, he wasn’t used to anyone being kind to him — even though I was only talking about a Big Mac. When it arrived, Paul took his first bite. Suddenly, his face lit up with the biggest, most radiant smile. He was on top of the world because somebody bought him a hamburger. Amazing. So little bought so much. While elated that I had literally made Paul’s day, the neglect and emotional isolation from which he suffered disgusted me. This was a harsh side of medicine I had not seen before. Right then and there, I wondered, "Do I really want to go into medicine?"

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.

It was another restless Friday afternoon in the small-town nursing home. Overworked nurses buzzed around, itching to start their weekend. “Ann,” a late-stage dementia patient, stared out her bedroom window. Her eyes focused on nothing in particular. As a hospice volunteer, I had been visiting Ann for three months. She spent our time together lost somewhere in her mind where I could never seem to reach her. I reminded Ann who I was and began one of our familiar conversation topics. As usual, she never spoke. As the visit went on, however, something changed. Ann slowly shifted her gaze toward me. I paused. She gently reached for my hand. Her hand felt weak, but her grip was firm. She looked into my eyes, and for a moment her face was clear with recognition. “You’re here,” she said. “…You are here.” She struggled to get out the words as she brought my hand to her face and kissed it. I was so touched I could not speak. For a moment, Ann connected with me. She trusted me. In that moment, I knew I had made the right choice.

“Right this way,” the nurse ahead of me was prompting me to a brightly lit hall that was completely foreign to me. I couldn’t help but be terrified by the sights and sounds around me: people chattering, machines methodically beeping, gurneys rushing past. It was my first time in a hospital and my eyes frantically searched each room looking for any trace of my father. She stopped suddenly and I turned to the bed in front of me but I could not comprehend what I saw. At such a young age, I idolized my father; I had never seen him so vulnerable. Seeing him laying in a hospital bed unconscious, surrounded by wires and tubes was like witnessing Superman encounter kryptonite. My dad’s car accident not only made him a quadriplegic, but also crippled

Today, my kismet, had other plans. A knock on the door resounded, followed by a heaving breath, the twisting of the doorknob, and a bang as the door shut. My eyes widened when instead of a nurse, an unfamiliar face burst into my room and my reality. Two tantalizing grey eyes peered into my own, a wild mix of fury and contention battling to surface. The latter claimed the victory. Opening a green folder, the boy steered his gaze on a stack of papers. He flipped through them until an aqua colored paper stood out to him, and ripped it from the folder. His eyes scanned the paper until he read something that turned his nonchalant expression,

Hello Juliet, It’s Lisa I need your help. I am currently a hot mess. I need your ways, how do you get the men chasing after you? I heard over there in Verona you got 2 men chasing after you. Don't worry the word isn't around the Romeo and you are up to something, Lady nurse just told me over letter. But anyways what do you do? Currently I am in Kansas and I am a English teacher with two kids and I have to grade about 2000 papers of tests. I think after school is over I want to go vacation over there in Verona to see if I find myself some men. Any suggestions?

Nursing is all I’ve wanted to do since i was 8-years old. I was the little girl who would pretend to be the nurse with a white sheet like it was my coat, and wearing my mother’s stethoscope checking heartbeats. My mother bought me a medical kit and everyday i’d check everyone’s heartbeat, blood pressure, and vitals. But at that age all I knew was i had to hold their wrist for a while not knowing what i’m feeling for, writing random numbers in a notebook, and putting my ear against their chest waiting for the “thump-thump” sound. They’d go along with me and I’d think to make the pain go away is to give it a kiss and a band-aid. Until my mom said “ Chanel stop using all the band-aids”. Then, I had to cut down on my practices.

There was a strong pungent of disinfectants and rubbing alcohol as she was rushed into the lobby. Crying out her last breath to express her agonizing pain as she lied down on the cold gurney. The nurses in a light blue uniform quickly arrived as several doctors in long white gowns rushed to the scene. Her mother was by her side, holding her hands as tight as she could, as the nurses pushed the agitating gurney towards the automatic doors. Soon her visions blurred and as the world turned into a tint of pink and red. As her vision slowly darkened, she solely relied on the touch of her mother’s warm hand and her soothing voice. Notwithstanding the tight grip of her mother’s hands, they was soon torn apart. Fear took over her body as she cried even louder. The sudden yet rhythmic beep was the last memory she could recall. It was March 5th.

We went back to FOB McHenry after the Medevac arrived. We never caught up with the rest of the elements, so we were never even a part of the main effort. My vehicle had to be towed to the FOB, so we received a ride from another platoon. Once we got back there my Senior Scout took me to go look at my vehicle in the maintenance bay. There was a hole exactly where the TC seat was. The pieces started to come together. I couldn’t push through the kill zone because the battery box is under the TC seat, so with the battery gone, we weren’t going anywhere. We had never been blown up on a dirt road, it has always been on a main route, and it usually came from the side of the road, never underneath. This was a game changer for us.

I was recently fortunate enough to speak with Carri Montgomery, who lists her title as the Director of the Women’s and Newborn Center for Platte Valley SCL Health. Platte valley use to be community owed and they recently joined Sister’s of Charity which includes; Good Samaritan, Lutheran, and Saint Joseph Hospital. The purpose of this interview was to interview someone where I could see myself working in what they are doing later in my career. With this interview I hoped to learn what it took for Ms. Montgomery to be in the position she is today. Also, get advice from her to see what where the things she recommended I could do when I graduate from Metropolitan State University (MSU) in 2019. It was beneficial to interview her

It was that time of the year again. Her daughter, Daisy, and husband would pack up the minivan with everything she could possibly need. Each time they embarked on this journey, there was a sense of silence and unknowing in the air. She would be there for a couple months, unable to feel the fresh autumn air and using all the strength left to just simply brush her teeth. Daisy hated seeing her mother this way. She hated the way the chemo made her mother weak and fragile, she hated knowing that she could lose her at anytime.

It was an unpleasantly early morning in the hospital waiting room. Nurses buzzed around, busy attending to their patients while a faint beeping sound could be heard in the background. I was starting my second shift of the day at the hospital, just finishing working a shift in the dark, grimy morgue. Groggy, I sat down at my desk to begin another four hours of labor. My position was to assure that the paper work was properly completed and that all patients were attended too. While being a supervising nurse was a great responsibility, it left time to day dream.

“Academy for the Adolescence, founded in 1774.” I read out loud to my parents. My family and I are standing in rounded cement pathway around a statue with what I assume is the headmistress. I gaze up at the statue, I look at all of her face facial and take in the sense of what it would be like to actually be her presence. After awhile of me standing there in awe, daydreaming, my parent 's guide me into the big brick house. There is a deck, wood, very old, it creaks when I walk on it. There are two giant door, side by side, that are propped open by two women who are greeting each family by name. It’s our family turn to walk through the door. “Welcome back Mrs. Emerson!”, the two ladies say in sync with one another. We walk onto newly