Breaking Point

My son, Here indeed maybe torment, but not death.

Dante Alighieri, Purgatorio, Canto XXVII 

28th - 29th October (Tuesday to Wednesday) - I'm so so so dead. I've just came back from two days off and I'm being blasted by senior staff nurses and heavy cases alike. The major event that happened was there are many old patients back in, with two cases of brain tumour. One is a patient whom I familiar with, he's an old patient. Sadly, he had a recurrent tumour. D: Poor boy. The family are given the choice of chemo or surgery. Chemo, they are not too keen. Understandably, would you want your child to start chemo at a very young age? Nobody ever opt for chemo unless it's really that bad. Even my other uncle who's in a critical stage refused chemo, only giving him hydration and support. He's such a strong man, that uncle. Have it not been his cancer, he would've gone to Taiwan to become a monk. His pain threshold is superb, seriously. The morphine is only like a support, the only thing that is of concern was his restlessness. And most cancer patients I treat are always in pain.
Back to the story, this child, well teenager had a surgery done. According to my report, this child often wails and cries so loud because of his condition. One of the senior staff asked me to take a look at his drip and his hourly CBD output. Simple, yes? All I had to was watch out for his wails and cries... Bzzt. Wrong, so wrong.
I stepped in, greeted the family and explained I needed to top up his dip. I don't know what happened, seriously, I'M INNOCENT FROM THIS POINT, I was about to change his drip when the guy grabbed me hard on the wrist and went, "Sisterrrrrr." Ahhh, not again. The last time I got into this mess was when I was below helping a young adult, who had electrolyte imbalance and I needed to milk his CBD tubing to get his hourly urine output. He too, reached out (not grab) for me and went, "Sisterrrrrr, please help meeee." Oh dear. Except this guy kept wailing and crying until I was like, "What's wrong? Why are you sad?" And he just hugged me hard and went, "Sisterrrrrr, please call the doctor. I cannot breathe." Nothing I say will dissuade him, especially when he gotten violent until his family had to step in. When he finally calmed down a little, he kept going, "I want to see prof now, now, NOW. It's an EMERGENCY." "I WANT TO SEE PROF AND SPEAK TO HIM PERSONALLY." Yes, he maybe a teenager, but he insists on talking to prof personally. He sure got guts. And he kept hugging meeeeeee. *super awkward* I kept looking at the family for help and they were like, "You better hug him, girl, Otherwise he's not going to let you off." So I just pat him lightly on the head while he wail and cry onto my shoulders. Sigh.... ~.~ Suddenly I missed me good old patient from the below ward, at least he's not too clingy.
My mood was worsen when a senior staff demanded me to wash a colostomy bag. I get the theory, but never done it before. And then she started blasting me about wasting my student life and how come I never done it before. I told her firmly I used to be in a private hospital, where the cases are all separated, and the patients usually refused to let us do once they know we are students. She then start yelling some more when am I going to learn and I told her, "Now, of course, at first chance." Her anger cooled down a little once I prepared my equipment, I may not have done it before, but I know what needs to be prepared, just roughly. With guidance form a kinder staff, I managed it.
The next day was no better. I'm working in the morning and so early, in the wee dawn the profs are all coming for their rounds. And most of the patients are fast asleep. One of the profs were wondering whether they are coming in for their rounds too early (Erm, yes.) That kid, is seriously scary. When another prof came in, not his primary doctor, another one, he demanded his family and the nurse to get out, out, OUT, because he wants to speak to the professor personally. What to do but my poor colleague and the father was sent out while the prof had to deal with him alone, and came out moments later looking harassed. I don't blame him, that kid is a tough cookie. And then only we realized his depression was getting worst til they needed to get a psychiatrist.
If you think that's bad, near eleven, we are all harassed and running around like mad bunnies, running after profs, not to mention the new admissions that came flooding in, the heavy care that most of our neuro and critical care patients needs. Even I gone mad and nearly lost my temper because of one of our regular patient who likes to be pampered (Not uncle). I managed to cope with one of the toughest prof and he asked what happened to my fingers. Blisters and skin peeling. He asked whether I was playing with firecrackers and I went in shocked tones, "NO!" Then he went, "Just joking, girl."
When 12.30 came, I had enough. I was seriously losing my cool and had to get out of the "war zone" now before I cracked. I grabbed my bottle and bread and start chugging the whole thing down as though my life depended on it (I regret later cause my stomach was a bit bloated.) just as another staff nurse came running in and said she had to get away from all the chaos. Join the club, senior. Same here. And it does not help that our ward is full with heavy cases by the end of our shift and I'm working morning tomorrow. Please, let the patients go back tomorrow... TwT