ICU Nursing

I would say that 9 out of 10 days I come home from work proud of what I've done and proud of the work I get to do.  I love caring for patients and their families during some of the hardest moments of their lives.  It may sound crazy, but it really is so amazing.  I get to bring those on the brink of death back to life.  I get to listen to sweet elderly patients tell me about the old days or brag about their children and grandchildren.  I get to help my patients push through pain and suffering as they recover from a trauma.  I get to see a patient that comes in barely breathing, walk out of the ICU with a smile and new appreciation for life.  I get to comfort family as they say goodbye to their loved ones, sometimes it's come too soon, and sometimes it's family following their loved ones wishes.  Some of these things sound horrible, and sometimes they really are, but most of the time it's so rewarding to me.  It's rewarding to see a patient's progression.  It's rewarding to hold my patient's hand when they're scared.  And it's rewarding to help someone through a terrible situation, whether it be the patient and their pain, or the family and their loss.  But then about 1 out of every 10 days, I'm not so stoked about my job.  Maybe the patient was demanding and rude all day (it's amazing what a little thank you can do for someone that's trying to help you).  Or maybe you're patient that you've been fighting to save all day isn't getting better.  Or maybe your patient didn't make it.  Most of the patients I care for that pass away are elderly and it's their time.  Sometimes it's a trauma and as an ICU nurse, you learn death isn't always the worst option, so where it's still very sad to see someone's life end abruptly, you are also able to see that if they did pull through, they would have no quality of life.  But then there are the days like I had at work today...  Where you walk into the hospital thinking it's going to be another ordinary day in the ICU, maybe it will be calm, maybe it will be busy, but it will all be doable.  But you see the night shift nurse and you quickly learn just how wrong you were.  Without going into details due to HIPPA, you learn that a young lady, about your same age, didn't make it through the night.  She went into the hospital to be induced, just like you did 6 months ago.  She was taken for a c-section due to the baby's heart rate decelerating, just like you did.  But for some reason, she faced complications and bleeding was uncontrollable.  You learn about the night the nurse you're following had, and your heart aches.  It aches for the patient, for her husband that is now widowed, for her babies that will never know their brave, strong mother that went through so much for them, it aches for the medical team that has fought so hard to save her.  So the first 6 hours of my shift were spent with tissue in hand, helping her sweet family with post-mortem issues and doing my best to provide emotional support without breaking down.  But I did.  I broke down more than once in front of them.  That's a first for my career.  I have gotten teary-eyed with several cases at work, but never have I sobbed in front of my patient or their family.  But I did my best to be strong and I did my best to give her family the best care they could receive through such a heartbreaking situation.  It's days like today that I come home and give my baby an extra tight squeeze and my husband an extra long kiss because life really is precious.