As we entered the emergency room, I could smell alcoholic based cleaning fluid and sterile, latex gloves. We made our way over to the counter. I was dragging my feet. When the woman at the reception desk asked me what was wrong I broke down. I couldn’t answer. Ami stepped in and whispered to the woman that I had been “sexually assaulted.” Paleness took the healthy glow from the woman’s face. “Have the police been notified?” “She is not interested in that.” The woman nodded in acceptance before going to get a nurse who escorted both Ami and me to an isolated room in the back. I was told to take a seat on the gurney and not to drink anything or even use the restroom that she would be right back with some paperwork for me. I was quivering as I sat on the pristinely white sheeted gurney. I had no idea what to expect. Ami sat in a plastic, maroon chair over in the corner and looked at the cold, disinfected, tile floor. The sounds of beeping machines and ticking clock flooded my ears. The nurse knocked on the door and both Ami and I jumped. She handed me a clipboard with some paperwork on it that asked for the basics: name, date of birth, reason for being here, consent to treat, and so on and so forth. I filled it all out the best I could, my mind was lost in another galaxy. Besides, how was I supposed to know what year my father was born in and the phone number to my mother’s work? Once I finished, the nurse took the clipboard and exited the room once again. I looked over at Ami and wiped away some stagnant tears with the backside of my wrist, but she said nothing. The nurse came back in holding a white hospital band which she fastened to my left wrist. Then finally introduced herself to me as Katie. She pulled up a round wheeled ... ... middle of paper ... ...o.” I lied. She grabbed my hand and gave it a firm squeeze before starting the car. We drove down the road, there was little traffic even with it being rush hour, and we arrived at my house quicker than it took to get to the hospital. “Are you sure you want to be at home? How about you stay at my place tonight instead?” “I have to tell my parents, but thanks,” I said before I closed the car door and walked to the front door of my house. What was I going to tell them? I knew my mother was going to be furious when I told her I let some boy into the house when both her and my father were out. I slowly turned the nob and opened the door. I had been out for nearly six hours and missed dinner. Am I ready for this? No! I had only taken two steps into the kitchen then BAM, “Daniella Rose, where have you been? You missed supper,” my mom shouted. “I was out with Ami.”
For instance, our doorway assessment led to a heightened awareness of the other components involved in a patient’s care. Upon an individual assessment of my assigned patient and the clinical surroundings, I noticed a note on his door explaining the importance of good hand hygiene. The note also alerted those entering the room to not enter if they felt sick or if they have been sick recently; the note was had written so it could be assumed it was written by a family member. Additionally, on the patient’s dry erase board, there was a short narrative about the patient and his life prior to his illness. The more critical issues observed was that the patient’s brain injury resulted in complete paralysis, which placed him at a risk for falls; thus all four side rails of the patient’s bed were raised. All of these observations prompted me to be engaged with the patient, his mother and baby sister, his nurse, and the speech and physical
We lived all the way across the state, so this was the first time we had gotten to visit her in the hospital. While we were there by ourselves, my grandmother’s nurse, Genevieve, came in and introduced herself. She filled us in with all the details about my grandmother’s condition, and even announced our presence to my grandmother whom Genevieve said would most likely be able to hear us if we talked to her. I noticed how Genevieve talked like my grandmother was going to wake up, but I think that she was just being
Canada is perceived as a very peaceful country that protects its citizens with appropriate laws and legal processes. However, after researching sexual assault in Canada, that statement seems preposterous. To third world countries, this would be true, although this is not the case for those who are accustomed to living in a first world environment. The world tends to consider Canada to be one of the most progressive countries, but this cannot be when we are still deprived of the justice system we claim to have; today we do not have a justice system, we have a legal system. An answer to the question of whether or not the current state of our country’s legal process and laws involving sexual assault are effective as they could be is yet to be
I constantly reported to her concerning the condition of the patient in close time intervals across the day. On this day, a patient of mine had an IV site concern. The nurse assigned me to make some adjustme...
"Selena Gibson" the nurse called out after opening the closed door. I stood up and quickly moved forward toward the nurse. Stepping through the door I was ask to turn to the right and go down the hallway. Walking down the long stretch dragging my feet along the way I was scared to find out what the doctor was going to say. Turning to the left the room looked impersonal and cold. I was asked to seat in the chair and wait till the doctor came in with the results.
She mentions how the victims choose to keep quiet about the incident, since they fear their attacker will harm them for reporting the incident. Adefolalu mentions, "Victims who feared reprisal attacks from perpetrators were five times more likely to delay presentation than those who were not. " My hypothesis is fear of their assault prevents an individual from reporting a sexual assault committed towards them. My null hypothesis is fear does not affect if an individual reports a sexual assault. My independent variable is fear of assault and my dependent variable is unreported sexual assault.
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.
Sexual assault is an offense that plagues many U.S. citizens. Although some studies show that rape is on the decline, other studies report that the phenomena actually occuring is that less rape victims are reporting the crime. In fact, approximately 68% of sexual assaults go unreported to the police according to the U.S. Department of Justice in a National Crime Victimization Survey from 2008-2012. It is common knowledge that rape victims are usually severely traumatized after the event, which leaves them susceptible to various emotions such as shame, anxiety, numbness, fear, denial, and guilt. Because of this, many rape victims decide to repress their experience and let it go unheard. However, not only does this prevent them from healing emotionally,
“Okay, well I’ll fill out a nurses slip for and you can go see Mrs.Jones.” when he said the relief swept over me entirely, maybe I’d get away with
I said, "goodbye" to the nurse and left that awful place. Outside, I took a deep breath of cool fresh air. I practically ran to get inside my safe car. When back inside i cried in excruciating pain, I couldn't even feel my face. I sat there for a while thinking of those three terrifying words, Dr. Rust's office. I inserted the key into my ignition, turned it and drove away. When I knew I was home safe, I looked into my rear-view mirror. When I saw that old rickety building filled with bad experiences, I realized that that had been the most uncomfortable place I had ever visited, and I surely wasn't going to return.
"Hello! This is Cornwall ER. How may I help you?" The nurse answered the phone call. Like every Friday, I was volunteering in the INOVA Emergency room. It was a very busy day in the ER, where all the room including the triages were full. The rescue squads were coming with one patient after another, and the doctor, PA and nurses were very busy. I looked at the nurse’s face, and she seemed very concerned. That was because it was a trauma case, and the patient was going in a cardiac arrest. The nurses started preparing the trauma room and I assisted them in the process. That was my first time observing a trauma case after I started volunteering in the ER. I was very anxious. After about 10 minutes, the ambulance arrived. Four rescue squad rushed in with the patient. They were using a defibrillator, and the patient was oozing out blood. One member of the squad was covered in blood, and everyone’s face was extremely tensed. The doctor and the nurses rushed in and started assisting the paramedics. I was praying for the trauma patient as I was delivering a blanket to a patient
Although this patient was hearing voices and having difficulty organizing her thinking, her wishes were not so unlike my own. She also wished for freedom, independence and a good life free from biases and scrutiny from other people. In fact, she has shared with me her desire to go home and not be held longer against her will. Furthermore, I realized that this patient was just like any other patient in a medical-surgical floor with the same basic needs. She needed security, safety, care, consideration and respect, all of which we desire to provide to all of our patients whichever hospital/department they may be.
...ng to Louisville the next morning to spend Christmas with my family, and we had to get up at 4:30 am. I walked into my room and locked the door behind me. I was supposed to call Mike back after “talking” with Dave, but I wanted nothing to do with boys. Yes, I loved Mike, but I didn’t know how to explain what happened or what he would think of me. So I just jumped in the shower and climbed into bed, all the time trying to pretend that I hadn’t just been raped by someone who I thought was my friend.
got in the car, and went to visit her. Being as it was a very large hospital,