DONE with the hospital, and a Mag update

I was so worried about my last day - "Which not-so-nice nurse would the boss assign me to?" As every day, I glanced around the room at the briefing, and dreaded the decision. So many meanies weighing against so few decent folk.

And then my daily worry, that I'd be forgotten about and have to wander about until someone told me what to do. This internship thing is not easy when it's not as structured as I'd like.

My pathetic expression aimed at the boss, Gunnar, caught his attention and instead of assigning me to an anesthesia nurse, he asked me to wait a moment. Good. He knows I exist.

He remembered my notebook, that I have to have his appraisal of my work the last 2 weeks, and help me accomplish the few tasks that were remaining. The thing is, he's the boss and everyone kept coming to him, as he attempted to sign his name and write my review.

I decided to wash dishes in the meantime, to not just sit there staring at him.

He finally got to it and wrote me a beautiful review of my work. By that time the Chief Anesthesioligist Doctor of the entire hospital was sitting there with us, the lady I call "ice cold" (which my GP had to laugh about)  - she never had a moment for me, but the only interaction she had was to make me feel bad, "You HAVE to KNOW this!" OK, no need to get excited! While glaring at me over the intubation.

But, today, as Gunnar finished reading his beaming review of my work aloud, with the Chief Doctor sitting right there with us, I said, "Thank you, and I know where my weaknesses lie."

Because they are supposed to also write about our failings, aren't they?

I said, "The German language is not my own, but I will do my best to learn the technical terms, as well as the 'easy' terms I don't get yet" as I referenced an "easy" word from his review that I didn't know.

The Chief Doctor smiled at my comment, her first smile ever. I shall write her parents a letter. They deserve to know that their child smiled.

***

Funnily, a few days later I had to go to my GP for my blood test and he used to work there and knows how "ice cold" she is. And agreed with me about a few other characters. It was a great moment, bonding with my GP about OR staff stories. (But my arm is black and blue from his blood draw, WTH, I look like a sloppy junkie.)

As soon as Gunnar signed and stamped the hospital stamp on my book, I said, "Can I PLEASE work with you today?"

He said, "I'm just working the 'wake-up room' today!" As if, there's nothing there.

I said with desperation, "I've never worked it before!" He said, OK then. WHEW.

Cuz Gunnar is the most laid-back of all the staff, he's the boss, but he never lets the stress get to him, he just maintains his rhythm, which I loved, working with him in Narkose.

He doesn't speak to me, and I don't speak to him, but we flow around each other peacefully. (That was the day before, that I assisted him in OR 3.)

So what is this "wake-up room"? It turns out it's crucial to observe patients' vitals, and behavior, after Narkose. If you've been circumcised, you'll wake up crying but they seem to let the mothers in, after I stay at the bedside waiting for them to wake.

Waiting for adults to wake up is nicer.

If they're too drowsy to talk, I just sit there and hold their hand and hope they don't mind that I'm holding their hand. Cuz that might be creepy to some people.

I always face away from them, in the same direction they're pointed, to minimize the creepiness. No one told me to hold their hand, I just figure, what else should I do, as I wait.

The first thing they say is "Is it over?" To which we proclaim "YES! Everything went well!"

The second is, "How long did it take?"

I used to answer the question wrongly by looking at total anethesia time, when the patient was more interested in OP time (or?) - I learned to read the graphs (the computer-readable paperwork) to tell them precisely how long from cut to close lasted.)

One lady just kept waking, grasping my hand, smiling at me, and then falling back to sleep, snoring.

The next guy was a big guy, 30 years old, waking up from a vasectomy. I was dying to know why, but you don't ask that.

He lit up my day, he was so funny.

Gunnar leaned over his sleeping form, "Herr Kaemmerich, wake up!" and he was suddenly awake and terrified, like a horse after an OP, thrusting his torso upwards.

*giggle* No, lay down, it's OK.

After that he fell back to sleep and I sat by his side for an hour.

Then he started asking questions.

"Did I snore when I was operated on?"

"No", said Gunnar, "No one snores under anesthesia, because your tongue is held back by the tube." "Everyone snores upon waking up" I told him, "even 15 year old girls!"

After Gunnar left he asked me, "Did I do anything embarrassing in there?"

*lol* No, no one does!

I had a few conversations with Herr K before falling back to sleep. I stayed right there.

Poor Herr K wanted a drink of water, but we're not allowed to give it. Just a sip, no. He in fact had the hiccups, which often happens to people who've been intubated/larynx masked.

Gunnar shot a lubricating spray into his mouth, I wonder if that nasty stuff helps.

Gunnar was working in the background, I wonder if he was amused by our talk, cuz we really did have some sort of connection.

Then he was awake enough to go up "to station"  the higher floors on the hospital which have normal patient rooms.

As always, the "station" nurse who retrieved him had an emergency breathing thingy with her ("thingy" in English).

***

My next patient was Edeltraud, a unique first name for me. She says it comes from Bavaria/Switzerland. I couldn't help myself and said, "When one's name is Edeltraud, what does one call you?" : ) She said, "Traudy." !!!

We became great friends right then.

She held my hand the entire THREE hours I was there with her, except for when the doctors came and "re-started" her pace maker.

That's a procedure I've seen twice now and wish to never see again. What do you think that feels like? Like grabbing a 10K volt e-fence, or way, way worse?

Edeltraud told me how she came to this town in 1945 to marry her husband of 60 years. How her heart belongs to the Alps, and I said, "And my heart belongs to my home, and its mountains."

I asked her how old she is (orientation question) and she sighed, "As old as stones." I said, "As old as the HILLS!?" (as my step-dad says) - she laughed. Yes, I'm 86.

She said, "NEVER GET OLD!"

I said, "I'm 47."

She said, "My youngest is 45, you look nothing of that age!" (It's been forever since someone told me I don't look almost 50.)

I said, "Germany made me old."

She cracked up and beamed her smiling eyes at me as she grasped my hand.

I was not leaving this lady's side.

***

Then Kari came into the room, to work the wake-up room the rest of the day.

UGH.

Kari as you know is the pedantic one, the one who has a perpetual grimace of stress on her face, and rarely smiles. I would have given anything to never work with her again.

But thank God, she acknowledged I was working with the boss, and she did not beleaguer me all day.

Except by her horribly stresssed-out aura. Constantly pitching her voice and whining to Gunnar about things that did not suit her.

I thought to myself, that is no way to live, in a constant state of distress, and your stress certainly conveys to the patients trying to wake up in a strange place...I constantly fought back unChristian thoughts toward Kari.

In the middle of sitting with Edeltraud, I heard some discussion in the hallway, "Yes, I sat with a woman in here, she woke me up."

I ignored it.

But Gunnar looked at me questioningly and I jumped up, "What?"

It was Herr Kaemmerich! He was back to his normal self, albeit, painful to walk.

I ran to him happily, in my new outfit (cuz I started the day in full OP- gear, completely covered, but I learned that we don't have to do that there, so I switched to blue scrubs and NO mask and NO headgear, and he could barely recognize me, as I barely recognize anyone in OP).

I said, "Herr Hae..."??

He shook his head, and I looked at his chart. "Hey, I was right, you have an H and an A in your name!"

He agreed, and they left me with him in the hall.

He asked me what happened. I recounted our conversations and he remembered exactly HALF of them: )

He started asking me about myself, and as usual, being from America is interesting to young Germans.

I wanted to ask him all about his life but probably shouldn't, so when the doctor came, we said "Leb wohl." (Literally, in German: Live Long and Prosper).

***

Edeltraud and I hung out 3 hours and cracked each other up. I had made a little list in my pocket of strange German forenames and she took my list and read it (no need for glasses!?) and laughed that I'd never heard of those names. Hers, and Roswitha, and Methhild, and Inja. She laughed at me for never having heard them.

Finally they took her away from me, and we said Leb Wohl too.

***

Kari.

She was a burden emotionally all day, her constant complaining to the boss, and her twitchiness.

Then, suddenly, at 3PM, she sat in a chair and said, "Come over here and take my blood."

To me.

I said, "I have only done this twice. I'll need a big towel."

She shook her head and said, "Go for it."

I put the catheter into her vein and it was all good, but I guess my follow-up needs work, cuz the blood soon poured out onto the floor. Like the last time I'd done this.

I haven't quite got the method for releasing the arm-belt (?) and stopping the vein with a finger, before opening the catheter completely.

She said I did great, which was very kind of her.

I said, "No, I've got HALF of it down.": )

What a surprise, that she would be so kind, in the midst of her great stress, to help me!

***

3 PM, I have to find Hurija to say goodbye to my only buddy.

I forgot I only had my blues on and ran back into the OR area (not the OR rooms, for heavenssake, just the general area, but still...)

A cleaning lady stopped me, knowing no German, only pointing to my head and my feet. Right.

Gunnar came right after, saying, "Not through there, but over there, you can go in."

OK, I was just so worried Hurija would go home and I'd never get to say goodbye.

I ran down to the other entrance and she was in OR3 cleaning it, I was not allowed in.

Daniel, an OR nurse, came around the corner, he's always been nice to me and I said, "Can you please go in OR3 and get Hurija for me?"

WHO?

Hurija.

WHO?

Hurija.

WHO is that?

Cleaning lady.

OK, I'll be right back.

SIGH. Does he truly not know her name?

She came right out and broke out into a smile.

I ran to her and hugged her and we hugged, cheek to cheek and I said, "Thank you for being nice to me."

She said, "And you were nice to me."

*sob*

***

That was it.

I'll likely never see her again, nor Gunnar.

At 4 PM it was time for me to go and, very oddly, Kari, the stressy one, came to me and said, "It's not easy for you, I know, because every time you worked with a new nurse, they didn't know what you knew, and had to start over with your training."

I thought, "How odd, that's not true, the truth is, each nurse has her own way, and each insists it's the only way!"  Perhaps that is what she meant.

No hugging, just a smile as I left.

I said goodbye to no one, I just left the building.

Good riddance, you all.

If you ever work in software, and then go to nursing, you will know what I'm talking about.

I joke to J about it, "I worked *downstairs* at Downton Abbey!!!!!!!"

***

Those patients are etched into my mind. One of them I truly intend to seek out (the Morroccan).

As they wheeled Edeltraud away, I said, "I enjoyed our time together. I will be thinking of you!"

After her children all moved away, and her husband died, leaving her in NordRhein Westfalen, we both feel a little stuck here.

Leb Wohl...

You all..................

***













Mag's cellulitis antibiotics ran out today, and his legs still look terrible though not swollen. Full of pus-filled lumps, which I'm loathe to do anything about. Poor thing. If any of you have advice, please let me know.