Just because...

Today is a lazy day. Since I got literally no sleep yesterday, I took a benadryl and passed out around 2am and woke up at 2pm. Yes, that's 12 hours of sleep. Being a night shift nurse, I've learned to catch up on sleep whenever I can, which often means sleeping for 10-12 hours on my days off.
The rest of today I've been sitting in bed, trying to conquer my third day of being a non-smoker by catching up on all my blogs and reading a few new ones too. So fun to read about people's lives and see their pictures. To be honest, I tend to gravitate to blogs with a ton of pictures. Mainly because I love photography but also cause its just fun to look into people's lives and see pretty things. Unfortunately , I realize that because of the nature of much of what I write about I don't get to post pictures. I doubt my patients (or HIPPA) would appreciate it much if they found pictures of their wounds up here. But today I was going through some of my pictures because I'm thinking of starting a photography section on here and I found some photos of work I can show you. :)
Disclaimer: they won't be at all artistic cause they were taken with my iphone but still fun!

Here's me. I went into work one day to grab my schedule and my old preceptor goes, "Why do you look so cute!? I want a picture!" Haha I definitely did not look cute and was very amused because I think anyone who comes in who isn't wearing scrubs is considered to "look cute."


One day while I was on my orientation with the same preceptor, one of the RT's (respiratory therapists) was making crude jokes to us. Jules handled it very well and made a joke back saying she would need an emesis basin if he didn't let up. He didn't let up, so she taped an emesis basin to her chest and said, "Now, I'll be prepared for you." Haha...somehow it ended up being taped to the outside of my room, with "Tips" written on it. Hey at least we made some change!



A few weeks ago, I was in the middle of a four day stint at work and sadly on the second to last night I had gone home after work and literally did not sleep a wink. So, by the end of my last day of work I had been up for 40 hours. Work that night was awful, but thankfully it was slow and I had one super stable patient plus code bed. In order to stay awake I made a paper crane out of my gum wrapper. I was really, really focused on it and probably looked like a complete lunatic sitting in the corner folding my gum wrapper. It was pretty funny telling my friend Kelly about it online. Here's the finished product.



A while back I had a patient, a one to one assignment, sedated, intubated and on literally 10-12 drips...basically everything I love about the ICU haha. It took me FOREVER to organize and label all of my lines. I was so happy when it was done I took a picture of my IV pole. In nursing school stuff like this terrified me...welcome to the ICU.


And last but not least. My unit is on an upper floor in the hospital so we are lucky enough to have a pretty amazing view of the surrounding hills. Every morning I get to watch the sunrise and it never ceases to amaze me how lucky I am to love my job and to work in such a beautiful area. This is a poor representation of one of the sunrises (iphones do no justice) but a glimpse into what I mean.



That's it for now. Happy Saturday Friends!

Day 2

Today is my second day into quitting smoking. I've been here before and yes, this time it is completely different (thanks to the miracle drug Chantix). There is no doubt in my mind that this is the last time I will be quitting, but it is still hard. I got about 2.5 hours of sleep last night. Finally fading off around 4:30am, then waking up and seeing 7:12am on my clock...not fun. Insomnia is just part of the deal. As is irritability, a complete lack of focus, hypersensitivity to seriously everything (I woke up and cried for absolutely no reason this morning)and the worst one...a massively increased appetite. Strange though, cause when I take the Chantix I get nauseous and I don't want to eat at all and then I get a craving and I want to do nothing but eat. Ugh, there goes any chance of weight loss.

The first day was actually GREAT. I was truly shocked. I felt revitalized and happy to be finally free of something that has been controlling me for so long. I slept really well after coming home from work and even my drive home wasn't bad at all (I used to chain smoke in the car). My friends came over and we put together a 1,000 piece Disney puzzle which was incredibly satisfying and therapeutic. I was so proud of it I took pictures.



And the finished product...minus the one missing piece


It was seriously great and I really felt so hopeful about this being MUCH easier than I expected.


But today....man was it different. I'm super emotional (hence the crying) and I am annoyed by everything and everyone. I've had a headache all day and been completely out of it and there have been countless moments where I think, "Oh yes! After my friend leaves I can go outside and smoke." It's that fleeting moment where you forget and you get excited....then reality sets in and you remember that you have to learn to live life without the thing that truly defined your day...now it just all blends in together and I feel really lost.

I'm tired and grumpy and despite the fact that my house is a complete disaster and I have a ton of chores to do, I could care less because I have no energy at all. Nothing feels satisfying and I feel like crawling under my covers and just staying there for a few days. Seriously this quitting smoking thing is exhausting and I feel like I was just hit by a freight train.

But then... I walk into my living room and I see this...



and I can't help but smile because I am incredibly lucky. I am so blessed to have the friends that I do and at the end of the day, no addiction, no cigarette can replace the joy I get from having them in my life.

So, instead of being angry and frustrated for what I can't have, I'm choosing to be thankful for what I do have.

Here's to conquering day 2!

What are you thankful for?

Mascara and Fairytales

One thing I rarely go out of the house without wearing is mascara. I have never been one to wear a ton of makeup and as a matter of fact, most of my life I've hated it. Even during my rebellious teen years, makeup was not included on my list of things to fight with my mom about. See, I grew up with a hairdresser for a grandmother and an aesthetician for a mom. Both of whom are extremely concerned with the way they look. Every time I've gone to eat with my grandmother, the first thing she does after eating is she pulls out her mirror and carefully re-applies the lipstick she lost during the meal. When she broke her knee, after calling for help, she crawled herself into her bedroom and found a way to reach her dresser so that she wouldn't have to go to the hospital or be seen by anyone without "her face" on.

My mom told me at age 19 that I needed to start wearing eye cream because I had dark circles under my eyes. She also grounded me once in high school because I performed in a choir concert without makeup on. The list goes on and on. Combine my family's obsession for remaining ageless with our society's expectations of beauty and you have a complete recipe for impossible standards. All of my life, no matter what weight I've been or how clear my skin was or how straight and shiny I managed to get my hair, I've always felt inadequate in terms of my appearance. I think most women, if not all, would tell you they have struggled with some form of insecurity when it comes to looks. I think its natural to have doubts sometimes. I wonder though, if we got completely honest, how many of us would say that it isn't just a fleeting doubt we have on an occasional 'bad hair day' but its more like an irrational, continuous gnawing at our self worth?

Theta Mom just did a great post about beauty and our struggles as women and I'm so thankful for those of us that are fighting for women to re-define their worth and standard of what is beautiful. Cause lets face it, whether we are a beauty queen, a model or an average woman living everyday life, most of us will never feel we are good enough on some level.

In fact, the other day I was looking back at pictures from a formal I went to during college, about six years ago. I was probably the smallest I have ever been in my young adult life, squeezing into a size 2, Jessica McClintock dress. I see those pictures now and I would give anything to look the way I did back then. The funny thing about it though, is that I remember feeling incredibly insecure at the time. I remember comparing myself to my girlfriend who had made the trip with me. I felt self conscious because I couldn't run like she did and I didn't have perfect skin or wash-and-wear hair, I felt out of shape and overweight.

It saddens me to know that I've lived under that kind of shame and pressure most of my life. So, I'm trying to take a step back now. I'm taking a look at my beliefs and I'm re-evaluating the way I view myself. I was talking to a girlfriend about this recently and she asked me if there was something I could do to start taking my power back. There are a lot of things that I do in order to meet our world's standard of beauty... whatever that may be.

Mascara is just one of those things. I'm not quite brave enough to go to work or out on a daily basis without make up, but I can give up my mascara. It's the one thing that I feel makes a big difference and it's also the one thing that bugs me the most. I can't tell you how many times I've gotten mascara in my eyes in the middle of a procedure at work or while I'm driving. My favorite though, is when I'm in an isolation room, gloved, gowned, masked and yup, here it comes...my eyes start watering, black streaks begin to pour down my cheeks and I can't touch anything without going through the whole obnoxious process of taking everything off, walking out of the room, washing my hands and at that point I'm a complete mess.

So, here goes, for now I'm gonna pass on the mascara and I'm gonna take that first step of learning, (hopefully) to be okay with just plain old me...make up or not.

I have a confession to make...

I am a smoker.

Ok, I can hear your gasps from here. You're looking at the title of my blog and then back at the post, confirming that yes, I am a nurse, and yes, I am a smoker. I know, I know. It is a terrible, unhealthy, unattractive habit. Not to mention it being slightly hypocritical to be a health care worker and a smoker, right? Well, I must admit. I am not proud of it by any means and I have struggled through many battles and multiple attempts at quitting.

I can say without a doubt, that quitting smoking has been one of the most, if not the most difficult thing I have ever done in my entire life. My life has not been easy either, so that's saying a lot.
I'm not kidding here. I have such compassion for people who struggle with addictions because on a major level I understand their struggles completely. Now my addiction may not have as dramatic a social or medical consequence as say, meth or heroin or alcohol. I know that, but lets be honest here. Addiction is addiction and nicotine is well known to be one of the most addictive substances out there. Even more addictive than heroin.

I have been smoking off and on since I was fifteen, regularly since I was eighteen. That's a solid ten years to form a habit that has truly become an active and very prominent part of my life. My days are marked by the times I get to smoke. I get through with a shift at work and it brings a sigh of relief and a smile to my face because I know that on my way home I can have that glorious cigarette.

When I am running errands or cleaning my house, or when I was studying for hours on end in nursing school or trying to survive clinicals. I knew that no matter how stressful, hard or boring or tiring it was, in the end, all was right with the world because I had my cigarettes. Smoking has been my buddy, my friend through it all. Through every emotion whether it be happiness, sadness, fear, excitement, joy, contentment, heartbreak. Smoking has been the one thing that went with it all. It is a vice I have used in utterly awful times and completely wonderful times of my life as well.

The one thing I knew I could count on, is that smoking made it seem like everything, no matter how bad it was, would be okay. When people hurt or disappointed me, it didn't matter because I would mask the pain with smoking.

At this point you may be wondering why I am writing this ode to smoking. Obviously I am not an advocate of smoking and more than anything I wish I had never started the awful habit. I would do anything to prevent another person from starting themselves.

Well, for one, if there is a small chance that there is someone struggling with addiction reading this, I can only hope to give them a place to identify with. You are definitely not alone. So many people have addictions, some worse than others and yes, even nurses, doctors, surgeons, teachers. Good people have addictions. I hope someday we can learn to treat people with addictions more properly. It already carries so much shame, it is an awful place to feel so hopeless and it honestly feels insurmountable to beat at times.

The main reason I am writing this post though is because today will be the last time I can call myself a smoker. See, I have been going through a process of letting cigarettes go. From a mental standpoint its as if I have made up my mind to leave an abusive relationship. My bags are packed and I have my escape plan. There is a way out and I decided a while ago to take it, its just a matter of taking that last step. I started Chantix just over a week ago and today is my quit date. After 12am smoking will no longer be apart of my life.

So, this is my goodbye. Goodbye smoking. In many ways I have needed you. In the most terrible, desperate times of my life I had you to depend on, to rely on. But now its time to move on. It's time for me to be healthy and whole. It is time for me to embody everything I want to be as a nurse and as a woman. In many ways you were a necessary part of my life but now it is time to face the world without you to hide behind. It is time for me to embrace life as a person...not as a person who needs to smoke.
I hope I will never have you in my life again and I look forward to the day where I wake up or I step into my car and you are not the first thing I think about. For now, I know that will not be the case but I know that someday it will be my reality. In the meantime its going to be lots of gum and licorice for me.

Here's to freedom from addiction!

Great Giveaways!

Some of my favorite blogs posted about the same giveaway recently and I wanted to share about it because it is just that darn cool!

Modern Bird Studios is a company ran by a husband and wife who wanted to make art personal and affordable for everyone. What they do is this. Basically, you send in a photo and they make it into artwork! How cool is that?

If you want to enter one of the giveaways check out these blogs!




And don't forget to head over to Modern Bird Studios to check out their amazing artwork!

That darn right ventricle!

A few weeks ago I oriented to open heart surgery patients. On my third day I was pretty much on my own. My preceptor helped me get my patient situated after the OR and then said, "Ok you're on your own. Come get me if you need anything." And she headed off to be the unit resource. I was actually quite proud of myself because I felt so much more settled the third time around. I felt like I had finally gotten a good handle on how to treat heart patients which was exciting to me!

One of the things I had noticed was that my patient's PA (pulmonary artery or Swans-Ganz) catheter had a funny waveform, which meant one of two things. The balloon on the tip was either inflated or the catheter was in the wrong place. It didn't look like my balloon was wedged so I assumed the catheter probably just needed to be moved a bit. At any rate, I asked our cardiothoracic fellow about it when he came to do rounds on his patients.
He looked at the catheter and decided that yes, it needed to be floated in a bit more. For those that aren't familiar with PA caths, here is a pretty good (although small) picture of what they look like going into the heart. The yellow line is the diagram of the catheter.

Now keep in mind, this is a catheter that is floating through the heart. As it floats through the differnet chambers, the waveform on the monitor changes which is an indication for the nurse and physician as to where the catheter is. When the catheter reaches the right ventricle everyone holds their breathe because the right ventricle is very 'ticklish' as we like to joke. If you stay in the RV for too long you can cause the patient to have PVC's or premature ventricular contractions. This isn't good because it can lead to ventricular tachycardia...a fatal heart arrhythmia.

So, the next thing I know the fellow is in my room, standing in front of me while I am in the middle of hanging a bag of KCL, and he's trying to inflate the PA balloon and float the PA catheter at the same time. Unfortunately this didn't work out too well and before you know it I start seeing PVC's all over my monitor. Within seconds my patient is in full on V-tach. Yikes! "Uhh, that's v-tach. You're in the RV!" I manage to mumble. At this point I'm terrified. After all, it is only my third heart patient and I'm not even off orientation yet!

In minutes our cardiothoracic attending shows up and starts yelling "Just pull out the swan! You can't inflate the balloon and float the catheter at the same time!" I feel completely frozen and I'm also physically stuck behind the fellow who is trying to float the catheter. Luckily, my preceptor jumps in and helps him inflate the balloon. They float the catheter into the pulmonary artery and the V-tach stops.
About a minute later I remind myself to breathe and the feeling in my extremities slowly begins to return. All in all there were a few good lessons learned.
A) Communication is key. When a physician mentions something about my patient or a procedure for any of my patients the first thing I ask is "When will you be doing this?" and "Do you need my help?"
B)Note to self: Don't mess with the right ventricle.
C) Always know where your code drugs and your crash carts are...you never know when you might need them!

Meet Sam

One of the people in my life I am so thankful for (among many) is my roommate, Sam.


I have known him and lived with him for a few years now. At first he was just a stranger crashing on my couch but has grown to become a very dear friend and is truly like a brother to me. What I love about Sam is that I know I can always be honest with him...no matter what. Some how we manage to end up having the most meaningful conversations during the most mundane or unexpected times. I'll never forget the time we were re-seeding the lawn in our old house. He and I were outside, manually tilling the soil, fiddling away with the dirt and we ended up having probably one of the best conversations I have had with any of my roommates. One of our favorite conversation times is when we play Call of Duty. Yes, I love killing zombies. What can I say? I lived with a bunch of boys for almost six years, I was bound to be converted at some point.

Sam and I have our "catch up" times playing Call of Duty together. Somewhere around level 18 the conversation usually trails off as we are forced to actually pay attention to the hundreds of zombies trying to rip us to shreds. Still, its always really fun and just really great to know I have someone to hang out and just be real with.

Recently, I came across a difficult situation that I was sharing with Sam about. I was telling him how defeated I felt and how I wished I had handled things differently with a certain person in my life. What he said to me was incredibly encouraging and I think humbling in more ways than one.
He said, "One time I took this math class and I failed all the quizzes, every single one. But, I ended up passing all the exams. At the end of the class the teacher stood up and said, 'There is a student who has failed every quiz in my class but has passed every exam. He doesn't have to make himself known but he is a great example of what it means to learn from your mistakes.'

What he said next was what hit me the most. "I will almost always fail the first time around. Give me the quiz and I will fail at first but I learn how to solve the problem, and the next time around I pass the exam. Andi, that's all you have to do is learn from your mistakes. Now you know how to solve the problem."

For someone who tends to lean a little more on perfectionism than grace, it's hard for me to have that mindset. Especially when it comes to relationships with people and my own personal values.
It's so true though, isn't it? How many times can we all say we were completely off the mark the first time around, but give us the test again and by golly we are gonna ace it.
Whether it's in our jobs, our families, our personal relationships or a battle within ourselves. We will always fail at some point. It's inevitable because we are human. The good news is there is grace. There is hope to become better and to pass that test when it comes around. For now, I'm in the process of growing and learning from my mistakes. And thank goodness for people like Sam in the meantime.

Do you have people like this in your life?