I had no idea that a simple trip to the local supermarket would result in a trip to the emergency room. This was definitely a tragic day that I will not soon forget. I have always been cautious about the safety of my children, taking every step to be sure I do what I can to keep them out of harm's way. Unfortunately, on this day, I did everything I could and it still did not make a difference.
For the duration of this clinical experiences my intentions are to gain experience in leadership and develop those skills by establishing a partnership with R.K. She is currently teaching a leadership development course which I would like to develop a partnership with her and complete a community project.
My desire to become a nurse is deeply-rooted in my aspiration to contribute to the well-being and improvement of the less privileged as well as my own personal ethical stance. My decision was made easy by the professional code of ethics of nursing, which correspond with my personal beliefs. One of my personal values that have shaped me into who I am today is honesty. It is important to provide patients with accurate information on procedures, diagnosis, treatment options, and possible outcomes. Although I am fallible, it is imperative to acknowledge and take responsibility of my own mistakes. These personal qualities would help propel me into my professional career.
When I went to bed around 11 o’clock, I was crying, like I usually did, but this time was different. I couldn’t fall asleep and my cries got heavier. I began hyperventilating, which soon woke my little sister, who was sleeping in the bed above mine. She called out to see if I was ok, but I was unable to respond. She ran down the hall to my parents room and told them that something was wrong with me. My parents ran to my bedroom, which awakened my whole family. My mom was yelling at me to respond, but I couldn’t. I was paralyzed. There I was sitting in a ball on my bed, hyperventilating uncontrollably, with my family standing in a circle around me. They had no idea what was going on, and there was no way for me to tell them. My mom crawled into bed with me and the two of us just laid there. She was silent, just listening to my deep, powerful sobs. It took a long time for me to calm down. It had been 5 hours since I first went to bed. Around 4 o’clock was the time I was able to sit up and answer my mom’s questions with one word answers. we talked the rest of the morning, and I told her all about what had been happening for the past 7 months, except I left out the part about being suicidal. I couldn’t bear to tell my mom how bad I was, and that I never told her before.
Dreams consist of actions such as embracement, births, deaths, being chased and falling. Embracement tends to indicate that you are reaffirming yourself. This means that you are in the process of reassurance, such as being able to trust people. This may be friends, lovers or movie stars. Then there are dreams where births take place. It is attention grabbing to know that women that are pregnant tend to dream about small cuddly animals at early stages of their pregnancy. As well as expectant fathers tend to dream about babies, birthdays parties more than married men whose wives are not pregnant (Cartwright 158). Dreams about births represent the beginning of something, religious salvation or remodeling project. There is also death. These dreams tend to focus mainly on the ending of something, specifically relationships or people who have had bad experiences in the past. These dreams also may signal to a therapist and possibly the dreamer that the time is approaching for successful course of therapy.
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 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.
I walk through the doors of the emergency department and I am greeted by a cacophony of sound and a barrage of fluorescent lighting. I hear the familiar hum of blood pressure cuffs filling with air, the steady blip of cardiac monitors, the low buzz of people talking punctuated every so often by an exclamation. In the waiting area, there are forty people waiting in chairs and five people queued up to see triage or registration. To an outsider this environment might look like chaos but as an emergency room nurse the chaos has become familiar and quotidienne.
The second dream spoke to me mostly of the mountain I need to climb, that it's not a easy mountain, but if I persevere I will have the victory.
My grandma was taking me to the hospital so that I could visit her. As soon as I walked in the hospital I went straight to my mom’s room. I walked in there and she looked so pale and lifeless I
I jumped out the car and ran towards the ambulance as it suddenly began to pull off. I then jumped back in the car and urged my friend to follow it to the hospital. When arriving to the hospital I remember walking through the hospital doors and being directed by the nurses to come to the back. Several years of working in healthcare and knowing the routine quite well, I knew what these directions given meant. As much as I did not want to believe it, I knew what the many nurses, doctors, and assistants wanted to prepare me for. I walked into my mother’s room and remember seeing the strong and eager to win mother I knew laying there lifeless. Although the physician continued to work on her, I knew in my heart this was my time to say goodbye and was not sure of I was prepared to the adapt to life without
In October of my freshman year, I was admitted into a psychiatric hospital for one week. The events that led up to this are long and many in number, so much so that to explain it all fully would require forty more pages and essay submissions, something neither you nor I have time for. They don't matter any way. What matters is that I was there, along with seven other perfect strangers who would later become the greatest people I had ever had the blessing of meeting and yet destined to never see again.
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.
It was Friday night, I took a shower, and one of my aunts came into the bathroom and told me that my dad was sick but he was going to be ok. She told me that so I did not worry. I finished taking a bath, and I immediately went to my daddy’s house to see what was going on. My dad was throwing-up blood, and he could not breath very well. One of my aunts cried and prayed at the same time. I felt worried because she only does that when something bad is going to happen. More people were trying to help my dad until the doctor came. Everybody cried, and I was confused because I thought it was just a stomachache. I asked one of my older brothers if my dad was going to be ok, but he did not answer my question and push me away. My body shock to see him dying, and I took his hand and told him not to give up. The only thing that I heard from him was, “Daughters go to auntie...
I never thought of the Hospital as a terrifying place to be, it was always just a huge building to look up at to me. When I was around six-years old, I used to imagine what it would be like to free fall from the very top of it, catch the wind and fly high in the sky, like in those action movies where the main character finds out he isn’t fully human; as if he were half-angel and the hospital buildings were perfect for my imaginations. As I looked up at the ceiling and watched the lights fly by while the nurses were wheeling me to the ER, I thought” well this isn’t right at all.”