It’s Thursday, which means I had clinical today n the school system. It was a VERY slow day; a lot of filing, twiddling of thumbs and inconspicious clock checks.
An hour before the end of the day I got a call from C’s school nurse. She said his inhaler wasn’t working well and she couldn’t give him any more. I asked if she had given him the nebulizer and she said no because she didn’t think the wheezing was all that bad. Funny thing about wheezing…. if you don’t stay on top of it… IT GETS WORSE! So, by the time I got there he was struggling pretty badly. The inhaler works BEFORE the attack, by the time he starts wheezing the nebulizer is the only thing that can help him. He has moderate to severe asthma, and has had it all his life so he knows what he needs. If only she had asked him rather than assuming she knew what would work. Obviously he needs it or the doctor wouldn’t have sent orders for the breathing machine.
My instructor was very cool about it though, she excused me from Post Conference. I sent her my Care Plan and Clinical Packet (nursing school homework) and decided to spend tonight organizing my thoughts for my term paper.
The paper has to be on a topic related to OB or Peds. It can be controversial (I like that) and needs to be 15 pages long. A lot of people are doing Breast Feeding/Formula, vaccinations, and new father support. I don’t want to do something everyone else is doing but I’m having trouble deciding on something that interests me. Maybe I’ll just google “controversial pediatric/OB topics” and see what comes up.
It’s almost dinnertime and I still haven’t started anything. In fact, our kitchen is looking a little light. I haven’t been grocery shopping in too long. We have no meat in the freezer, I think all I CAN make is pasta. Yuck.
I need a maid and a butler.
I had another clinical in the school system today. It was an average day; a couple G-tube feedings, a bunch of tummy aches, a very VERY young girl menstruating already (I can’t imagine getting it at that age, I was practically still sleeping in a crib at her age), and a few asthmatics.
The thing is, (and I know I’ve talked about this before but it’s such an emotional experience I have to get it off my chest) everytime I go into this school I see these kids with these stories that just make me wish I could make it all better for them. I see kids with developmental delays which is sad in and of itself, but when I read in their files that the mother used excessive amounts of illegal substances during pregnancy; it just makes my heart break. Children who were born addicted to a substance and will spend the rest of their lives fighting health ailments stemming from that exposure…. all I can think is “how can a mother do that”?
And it’s not just the medical issues; the poverty that some of these children live in is something I am so incredibly grateful that my kids and I have never experienced. It can’t be assumed that these kids have eaten breakfast that morning; and it’s not because they chose not too (like one of my kids tends to do if I don’t FORCE him to eat) but because there is not enough food in their home.
Then there are the social issues. The swearing, the disrespect, the complete disregard for rules. Not all of the kids are like this, but the kids who do display this behavior astound me. Have you ever heard a 5 y/o say the “F” word???? I hadn’t until I began this clinical. It is shocking the way some of these kids talk to their teachers.
Each Thursday I come home and it doesn’t matter how messy the house is or how much homework we all have to complete in just a couple of hours; the only thing I can think of is how perfect my three kids are. I am so lucky to have three perfectly healthy boys. I am lucky to have a husband who will do anything to protect us and provide for us; we may not be rolling in money but we have food on the table and health insurance, we live in a town that has an exceptional school district, etc. My boys are sweet, well mannered and as if they weren’t already perfect enough… handsome!
I really am lucky, and now I need to go prove my love for them by washing their dirty laundry.