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
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.
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.
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.
The one time I think it’s a good idea to talk a plane and the damned thing crashes. Do you realize how much courage it took for me to climb into this tube of people? A lot. They were yelling something about engine failure, but considering there was only about ten of us on the plane for this job anyway, there wasn’t much we could have done. The parachutes were in the back, and even though I had never used one before, I learned pretty quickly. Only five or six other people jumped out after me before the plane exploded, but I didn’t see what happened to them. There was a ridiculously tiny patch of land beneath us and it took at the strength I had to land in the water next to it instead of on land as to not break my legs. The water was colder than my mother’s heart, but after I got out it wasn’t that bad. For about three seconds. Then the wind blew and I regretted going on the trip even more than I did before. It’s January for god’s sake. It must have been 17 degrees.
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.
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
An orderly left a room, fresh with a message for Dr. Tarnover with new news and she was cursing the power outage, but she knew her way intuitively to the radiology room. Her feet trod confidently down the darkened corridor until she felt something and………………tripped.
Julie felt her head heavy with dizziness, as if all the strength had drained out of her body. Questions stacked in her brain: Why am I here? Why am I here? Yet her intense headache prevented her from thinking hard. Despite her listless condition, she attempted to sit up in bed, but immediately felt an excruciating pain in her left leg. Subconsciously, Julie groped for her leg. She felt the rigid plaster, and jerked her hands back instantly with a start.
“Unfortunately, yes, your life was part of our experiment,” replied the doctor. Sensing the anger boiling within my blood, I violently rip off the tubes connected to my body and race for the door, only to find that outside the door, there is darkness, and maybe a mile into every direction, there is a room similar to the one I was just in, Dr. Forschetofer, a patient, and the nurse. The same pattern repeats and repeats as far as the eyes can see, and before I knew it, a glimpse of a red suit catches my eye as I felt a needle penetrate my neck before I was unconscious once again.
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
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...
Paramedics squeeze my arms, staining their gloves a deep red. Doctors and nurses scream at each other as they run across the hallways wheeling me into the operating theatre. I look over to my wrists as clear fluids begin their journey into my veins. My heart is in my throat, my pulse is echoing throughout the room, my limbs are quivering, and my lungs are screaming. Nurses force plastic tubes up my nose, as jets of cold air enter my sinuses, giving me relief. Inkblots dance before my eyes like a symphony of lights. A sudden sleepiness overcomes me and slowly my vision dims.
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.
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.