I woke up to the pungent smell of hospital disinfect, invading my nostrils. The room was silent apart from my heavy breathing and the beep beep sound you often hear in hospitals that indicates you're alive. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting in attempt to sharpen the blurred images before me. I glanced around and took in the deserted, blue and white colour schemed hospital bedroom. How long have I been here? I shut my eyes, trying to remember what had exactly happened. Then it all hits me with a bang. The memory of it all starts to occupy my thoughts. I did it. I jumped off. The cold air hitting my face as I plummet towards the gravel. Some panicking, some remained still. I heard one lady scream. Crashed. The pain jolted throughout my body. It didn't hurt as much as the realisation that I didn't succeed. I was still alive. People started to surround me, some dialing 911 to seek for professional help. A man was telling me "Hold on, you'll be fine". I didn't want to hold on. Who brought me here? Out of impulse, my hand travels to my face, pressing the throbbing area on my right temple. I felt a scar and flinched at the pain. I tried to get up. Once I stepped on the cold, white tiles, I instantly fell back on to the bed. My body, engulfed in pain as if objecting my decision to stand up. I lay there pathetically, waiting for the pain to wash away. Staring at the ceiling, illuminated with a white fluorescent light. Perhaps waiting for some help by the hospital staff. I still didn't know how I got here, who took me here, how long I've been here. My series of questions was interrupted as a devilishly handsome man, with brown hair and mesmerizing hazel eyes, emerged from the door of my room, with a mobile phone close to his ear, talk... ... middle of paper ... ...ldn't want to leave the craziness of NYC and go back to dull old Geraldine. Aunt Leslie then snapped me out of my deep thought asking whether I was okay. I told her I was even if it was obviously a complete lie. "So shall we go back to Geraldine tomorrow morning? Or would you like to leave in the evening?" Leave? No. "Pardon me, Aunt Leslie, but what do you mean by leaving? I'm not going back to Geraldine. I love it here." She looked at me as if I was mad. "How could you possibly love it here? The streets are crowded, the people are loud, the air is filthy" She didn't get me. I know she didn't. But I don't want to go back. In the end, after hours of loud arguments, we finally settled down to an agreement. If I can prove to her I can get way better in a month I could stay, if I couldn't, it's bye bye New York for me. Well then, I wish myself the best of luck.
everything about New York she doesn’t leave, and instead of staying for the 6 months as
This report explores the importance of communication between nurses, providers and different departments play a crucial role in the safety of quality of patient care and their future health outcomes. When nurses give improper handoff’s the patient and the next nurse on shift will be left at a disadvantage. This can lead to further health complications and longer hospital stays for the patients and possibly death. The fairly new bedside shift report has been proven to catch mistakes during report and improve care in the hospital and for the future overall health of the client.
“Mom, when I grow up, I’m moving to New York City!” I remember telling my mother at the tender age of twelve. That dream of living in the Big Apple stayed on the back of my mind until it finally became a reality. At was twenty years old, I was ready to come into my own, so I made one of the most significant decisions of my life; a decision that is most responsible for the evolvement of a young boy having to quickly become a man. I moved to New York City. Soon, I would learn that along with all the excitement and responsibilities associated with this new chapter of my life also came a ton of fear and many lonely nights. Fending for myself would be the only way to survive. After all, this was an enormous unfamiliar city
My mom stopped at the hospital shop and got me a pad of paper, crayons, pencils and a pen. For breakfast they brought me eggs, toast and a tea bag with a hot cup of water. I ate the toast and a tiny portion of the eggs. I placed the tea bag in the cup of hot water and watched the color spread. A hospital chaplain came into my room to check on me, I asked if I could have honey for my tea. He said he’d see what he could do before leaving me alone. While waiting for his return , I began to doodle in the pad of paper. A nurse came in and took my blood pressure and then my breakfast tray. I enjoyed the presence of the hospital staff, it meant I was not
On my hospital bed, I sit and stretch out my arms to relieve some nervous tension. My room is nothing but dull grey walls and the smell of disinfectant. My ears perk up as I listen to doctors and nurses conversing outside. Their voices grow louder and louder as I hear their feet coming closer to my door. I crane my neck towards sounds, only to spot the brass knob of my door turning. My heart begins to race and my breathing becomes shallower. I quickly pull out a pocketknife from under my pillow and slip it into my pants pocket. Stealthily, I roll out of bed, forgetting about the various tubes attached to my body. I wince in pain and tears well up in my eyes as they get yanked ou...
I had been in hospital rooms many times before, but this was the first time that I was the patient anxiously awaiting their results. I sat on the hospital bed and nervously kicked my legs back and forth as I stared at the door, willing the doctor to walk through it. After a long wait I grew tired of this, and shifted focus to my surroundings. I had been admitted to Scottish Rite hospital, a branch of the Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta. Being a children’s hospital meant that the nurses wore cartoon print scrubs, the walls were painted in bright colors, the televisions were always turned to either Disney Channel or Nickelodeon, and everyone treated you like royalty. They did everything they could to mask the fact that it was indeed a hospital. However, I was too old to be fooled. I knew exactly where I was and what that meant, and that was that nothing good could come from being here.
Millions of people go to the hospital each day whether it’s an emergency or an appointment. One day I found myself in this very situation. I didn’t think it was necessary until I got to the hospital.
I awake to lukewarm water dripping down my forehead from a damp towel. I feel a thick liquid against my back. I scan the area, Unfamiliar. I find myself lying in a cot in a filthy room. The sight room itself was depressing, not that it was in extremely bad conditions but it was all…brown, the kind of brown that makes you feel depressed. It reeked of fish and motor oil, one of the queerest combinations of scents I have encountered. My ears start to pick up the deep monotones of a man speaking in other room. In my drowsy state I couldn’t make out exactly what he said but I did manage to g...
My brother and I were roofing the barn, a rather high one with two stories and a loft. We were called to lunch and I had one of my brilliant ideas. I thought that instead of wasting our time climbing down the ladder we could just jump on a tree and gently float down to the ground. I had seen many examples of this technique on various cartoon shows and perhaps something to do with the Little Rascals, but enough to know that it was totally possible. We both ran and jumped onto a thin alder, about 35 feet tall, and it started to bend and I thought, "here we go", a nice wonderful soft landing. Then it all went terribly wrong, as I heard this horrible gut wrenching crack, and the tree snapped in half sending my brother and I on a very painful journey. It is amazing how many thoughts can race through your mind in a few short seconds, "We are going to die!", "This is SO gonna hurt." "We will be lucky if we don 't break anything." We ended up in the swamp about 15 feet away, our breath pounded out of us, and many, many, painful bruises and
‘I’ve been feeling weird all day.’ Shawn thought while lying down on the hospital bed fully awake. Upon hearing a sound, Shawn’s head shot up. ‘Sounds like someone’s coming, wait, it sounds like more than one person. I’m counting two. Huh, that’s weird, it’s 3:30 in the morning and the nurse already went through here on her rounds half an hour ago, strange.’ Shawn mused surprised. The footsteps were coming closer to his room so Shawn closed his eyes feigning sleep.
Oh Sh*t! The door slams shut in my face, and suddenly I am stuck in a tight, dark room, where I can’t even move my arms to be able to scratch my nose. It feels as if I have been buried alive, as if I am stuck in a coffin. Every second goes by painfully, seconds feel like hours, and minute’s feel like days.
I promptly arrived at the hospital. My hands slid off the sweaty steering wheel as my feet roughly acquainted themselves with the pavement in the parking lot. Arriving at the doors of the hospital, I felt the pulsing of my blood racing through my veins. Bustling to the elevator, I could feel the air wafting me in the face, like a frank train slamming into my body. The tension in the air was so thick that I was suffocating in quicksand. Meeting up with my mom and dad, I could see that they were equally anxious and nervous for their daughter and our family.
For my visitation research report, I visited the Greater El Monte Community Hospital emergency waiting room located in the city of El Monte. It would have been a one of a kind experience to actually go inside the hospital’s emergency room where the patients are receiving medical treatment and observe their conditions; however nurses from this hospital told me that obtaining a guest pass was out of the question. For the sake and education purpose of the visitation report, I chose to conduct my research observations at this location for the reason that I drive by this hospital on a daily basis on my way to work but never really had the chance to do so. I stayed at the hospital for about two hours and made observations based on people entering the emergency waiting room that were either critically ill or injured, for my report I will discuss about how the emergency room process works as well as what I learned from the
On December 23rd, I had a dream that took place at a hospital. In the dream, my aunt Suja died in a hospital bed from leukemia. I was pacing around the hospital, keeping myself busy by fidgeting, because I could not let the sadness stop me. As I was running around the hospital, I saw my dad sitting on a chair staring into space. It really hurt me seeing him like that, so I went over and told him that my aunt was in a better place, even though I could not convince myself. I turned around and saw my mom, sitting against the wall, crying softly. I felt guilty, wishing that I could have done something to change the fact that my aunt died. I kept asking myself, “What if we knew about the illness earlier? Was there a better hospital? Why did this
Suddenly I awake at the noise of sirens and people yelling my name. Where am I? Those words radiate out my thoughts but never touching my lips. Panic engulfs me, but I am restricted to the stretcher. “Are you ok?” said the paramedic. I am dazed, confused, and barely aware of my surroundings. Again “Yes, I am fine” races from my thoughts down to my mouth, but nothing was heard. Then, there was darkness.