Night 1/3

So last night was horrible. Well, that's an exaggeration, but it was by far one of the more horrid nights I've had in a long time. I started the shift off with 4 patients. Everyone did. We all got an admission before midnight. I spent a long time getting that patient settled in and didn't get to my meds until way later than I usually do. I did manage to get her full admission assessment complete prior to get family leaving so that was one less thing to worry about. I went around and attempted to care for the others.

One patient, a young man with a gun shot wound was my neediest patient of the night. His mother was overbearing. Obviously worried about her son who was shot I could understand, but coming to me every second to tell me that her son was in pain when I had just medicated was grating on my nerves. The boy was getting a huge dose of medication. If I gave him anymore he'd crash. I did give him his meds 30 minutes early to shut them both up. He went to sleep. She stayed awake and bothered him to death.

 I had an confused alcoholic in one room, a man with a chest tube, a fresh post op, a woman who couldn't breathe...a gun shot wound victim and then here comes my second admission. A sweet older lady with a very sweet daughter. They were like a breath of fresh air to my stressful night. I got them settled in and attempted to catch up on my charting. To say that some charting got left undone would be a HUGE understatement. I finished what I could, but going almost 2 hours into over time I knew I couldn't just sit there and chart. I did what I could and left.

Nothing makes me more pissed than a nurse who makes a huge deal over the little things. Giving report to the oncoming shift is something I will definitely not miss. I want to simply do my work the best that I can and then go home. No passing on information to the next nurse who will nitpick. I got two freaking admissions in one night.  One an arthroplasty of the knee and one a small bowel obstruction with an NG tube and a needy family member.

Hell, out of my 6 patients, 3 of them had needy family members. One was a young man whose mother kept insisting that her son who had been shot was in pain. NO SHIT SHERLOCK. I'm sure he's in pain. He was just shot. I'm surprised he's freaking alive considering where he was shot. Pain should be the least of his problems.

Please don't come to the nursing station and stare me down. I just gave your son a huge dose of pain medication that he confirmed is working for him. What the hell else should I do? He won't try a cold compress. I offered his other pain medication and he refused. WTF am I supposed to do? Sing him a freaking lullaby and give him a massage?

Urgh.

Day one was hell. That is all.