A Song

Downhere
Calmer Of The Storm

Songwriters: MARTEL, MARC A./GERMAIN, JASON RONALD WILLIAM

When everything is wrong
The day has passed and nothing's done
And the whole world seems against me
When I'm rolling in my bed, there's a storm in my head
I'm afraid of sinking in despair.

Teach me, Lord to have faith
In what You're bringing me will
Change my life and bring You glory

There on the storm I am learning to let go
Of the will that I so long to control
There may I be in Your arms eternally
I thank you, Lord, You are the calmer of the storm.

You rebuke the wind and the waves
Once again I find I'm amazed by the power of Your will
'Cause I'm a child of little faith
I feel the wind and forget Your grace
And You say, "Peace, be still."

Teach me, Lord to have faith
In what You're bringing me will
Change my life and bring You glory

There on the storm I am learning to let go
Of the will that I so long to control
There may I be in Your arms eternally
I thank you, Lord, You are the calmer of the storm.

Oh when the torment blows
The middle of the sea.
May I never trust, never trust in me.
'Cause there in Your arms I find
No tragedy.

There on the storm I am learning to let go
The white wave's high, it's crashing o'er the deck
And I don't know where I go
Where are You Lord, is my ship going down?
The mast is gone so throw the anchor
Should I jump and try to swim to land?

There on the storm, teach me God to understand
Of Your will that I just cannot control.
There may I see all Your love protecting me
I thank you Lord, You are the calmer of the storm.

The Incident.

        There has been entirely too much snow this winter.  So to laugh in winter's face, I decided on the brilliant plan of enjoying the snow by going sledding.  I enlisted my friend, B, to come with, though it did take a small amount of persuasion.  Little did I know she was the voice of reason and sanity in this saga. 
        The hill was quite majestic in it's fluffy whiteness and there was only one other small group at the hill, so we didn't have to practice our sharing skills.  As we reached the summit of the mountain and looked back to observe all our domain, we saw some rascally somebodies had made little  giant ramps along the bottom.  Because our bones are old, we opted to not go over any of these minuscule humongous bumps.
         After much frolicking and enjoyment and maybe some out-of-shape panting, I took a smallish break.  Because I wanted to savor the wintery-ness of it all.  My friend B took a solo run, then when she returned, I decided on a solo run of my own.  Right over the mountainous death ramp.  But that part was an accident.  I see myself about to go over this stupid bump and all I can think of is how painful landing is going to be, so I stick my feet out to try and change my trajectory.  Oh, it changed my trajectory all right.  As I slid over the ramp my feet got caught under me, my sled flew from me (cowardly sled), and I hit the ground like a ton of bricks. 
        With the breath compressed out of my lungs I could not respond to the shouts of concern.  If I could have though, I would have responded in a negatory fashion.  Once my breath returned all I could feel was the excruciating agony of my left ankle.  Let me just preface this by saying I have never broken a bone or sprained a limb before, so this was all new pain experience for me.  When B rushed to my side I was all like "I think my ankle is broken, oh, it's broken" where she was like, "should I call an ambulance?"  This is where I reevaluated my pain.  Is this ambulance worthy pain?  "Well, okay, maybe it's not broken" as I writhed on the ground, "but it sure really hurts."
          Two gentlemen with their children came down to help assess the situation.  The majority of the intense, excruciating, mind-numbing, crushing pain had abated and I was able to perform an assessment on myself.  I was really disappointed there wasn't blood or a giant swollen foot to show for the intense, excruciating, mind-numbing, crushing pain I was feeling, because then someone might be led to believe I had zero pain tolerance. 
         Well, they helped me stand up after checking out my ankle and comparing it to my other foot and seeing no discernible difference.  I really could not put any weight on the afflicted foot however, so I hopped off the field in true football style. 
         Once home, assisted by my lovely friend B who was by my side for every moment of this agonizing tragedy, I commenced the tried and true RICE method of dealing with a sprain.  It has been four days since the incident and I finally have some black and blueness to show for my intense, excruciating, mind-numbing, crushing ordeal.  I concede this round to winter.  But I'll be back, and when I am, well, winter might want to run to spring for some help. 

Post Title One Hundred

Have you ever been the one hundredth shopper and you get confetti and balloons dropped down on you and a free trip to the European country of your choice, or Hawaii or a five thousand dollar shopping spree?

Yeah, me niether.

So consider this the cyber equivelant of that non-experience...


                           HAPPY ONE HUNDRED POSTS to STETHOSCOPE TALKS!

 

Now go and celebrate...at your own expense of course.

You know you're a nurse when...

...you are at a waterpark and see a suspicous mole and want to go tell them: "You should really get that looked at."

...you are at a waterpark and see scars and know what kind of surgery they had...Oooo, nice thoracotomy, or, how is that VP shunt treating you?

...you are at a waterpark and admire the nice juicy veins on the person in front of you

...you are at a waterpark and you imagine the worst case scenario if someone got hurt on a ride and how you could step in to help - everyone stand back, I'm a nurse!

...you are at a waterpark and see a poor little boy having a dermitalogical reaction to the pool water and want to just go rinse him off and slather him up in some lotion


...you are at a waterpark and wonder what would happen if there was a zombie outbreak..well, okay, maybe this last one doesn't have so much to do with being a nurse per se, but I'm sure some medical knowledge would be advantagous during a zombie outbreak.

Yes, EVER!

I speak in hyperbole.  It is the best day ever!  That was the grossest thing I've ever seen!  I have never been happier!  This is the greatest!  This is the worst!  He is the smartest man.  That was the stupidest thing you have ever done!  Worst day ever!!
There is no middle ground with me.  But having a literalist for a husband keeps me in check.  "Julia, this is not the 'best' restaurant ever.  It is good, but you've had better.  You just told me the other day that (trademarked name here) was the best.  They can't both be the best."
So when something comes along that is even better or more amazing than the most amazing thing or worser than the worstest thing, I have to truly get crazy with my verbalizing shenanigans.  And we all know that is the most difficult thing EVER!

Hypocrisy

          My husband has a habit of misplacing things.  I think this is a husband thing rather than just a my husband thing.  There is some research study somewhere that would corroborate this.  It is, if not a daily, at least a weekly occurrence; something becomes lost.  Or, as he would say it, not lost, just not in the place he expected it to be.  Nine times out of ten I usually know where it is.  And I will admit, if searching for said lost item causes us to be late, I maybe, kinda, sorta yell at him for it.  Well, maybe not yell, maybe just strongly encourage in a forcible tone to not do this again.  Wondering what the point of this post is?  Not to rag on my husband, I assure you.  Here is the gem: 

A few days ago we were leaving for a trip and needed the handy dandy Garmin.  What's that you say? Paper maps?  I do not know this thing of which you speak.  Nope, we are high tech and new-fangled and use E-lec-o-tronics to navigate this wacky world.  But could this amazing aperture of navigational prowess be found?  Of course not.  Were we running late? Of course.  Was it all my husband's fault? Naturally.

Then I found it.  In a purse.  In the closet.  Oh, yeah, I remember now.  I put it in there for ease of find-ability.  I just happened to forget.  And then it wasn't where I expected it to be.  I sheepishly returned to the car with found object.  And yes, I told him it was I who had misplaced it.  The only thing my husband said to me?  "Yell at yourself! Yell at yourself!" 

Remembering

           It's not that I don't enjoy my current place of work, but it can sometimes become predictable.  And I feel myself losing all of that ICU knowledge.  The skills I'm not really worried about, placing an IV, drawing an ABG, catheterizing, wound dressing, all of those things are motor skills and can be easily relearned.  But all of that critical thinking knowledge...I'm starting to feel it slowly ebbing away.  It's like when I stopped dancing.  I can still show you the moves, but the names of those moves I can't always remember.  And the sad thing is, it's something I did for years and years.  It's the same with working in the ICU.  I did that for years and years, and now just one measly year has gone by and I find myself wondering how much I remember. 
            Last night I couldn't sleep and started thinking about all the things I used to know...it went something like this: Okay, cerebral perfusion pressure is measured by subtracting the intercranial pressure from the mean arterial pressure.  The normal number for a CPP is 70-100mmHg.  It's an indication of how much blood flow is actually getting into the brain.  So the intercranial pressure may look great, but if the mean arterial pressure is really low then the brain isn't getting very much perfusion.  Brain perfusion is pretty important...yes, I think I remember that much.
            It's almost like that book "Flowers for Algernon" by Daniel Keyes.  He went from cognitively impaired to a genius and back again.  That is a perfect example of the flux I find myself in now.  At first, in nursing school, I most definitely felt cognitively impaired.  You put the what in the where now?  Um, how many chest compressions should I be doing?  What is the point of elevating the head with no hip flexion when trying to lower ICPs?  Is that atrial tachycardia or fibrillation?  What do those things even mean anyway?  I went from drowning, to treading water, to swimming with the best of them, to being a swim instructor.  Except as a nurse.  Because I don't know anything about swimming for real.  Just trying to fit in as many analogies as possible.  But since leaving the arena of critical care, just like Algernon, I'm losing a part of myself as the knowledge slowly departs.