Showing posts with label uniforms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label uniforms. Show all posts
Thursday, January 29, 2009
What a week!
Alright, so I'll pull out the wayback machine and start at last Friday, in the lab.
We had our infection control lab where we got to practice putting on isolation gowns, hairnets, booties, a variety of masks, and of course gloves in every shape and size. We also got to do that signature experiment where we slathered some UV-responsive cream on our hands, washed it off, and checked it under the black light. Surprisingly, the way I normally wash my hands is pretty effective, except for my cuticles, my wrists, and a circle the size of a loonie on the back of my left hand. Then my "nurse hand-hygiene routine" went very well. Those cuticles, I tell you! Germ trappers!
We had our infection control lab where we got to practice putting on isolation gowns, hairnets, booties, a variety of masks, and of course gloves in every shape and size. We also got to do that signature experiment where we slathered some UV-responsive cream on our hands, washed it off, and checked it under the black light. Surprisingly, the way I normally wash my hands is pretty effective, except for my cuticles, my wrists, and a circle the size of a loonie on the back of my left hand. Then my "nurse hand-hygiene routine" went very well. Those cuticles, I tell you! Germ trappers!
Sunday was fun. Mumsy and I got all excited over the scrubs we found a couple of weeks ago so we went to Mark's again. Now that I know that I'm magically two times smaller in a uniform than I am in any other style of clothing, the shopping wasn't so bad. We pulled some more solid colors (God, I HATE PRINTS as you may recall) and I came home with two more shiny outfits in forest green and light blue. They gave me this little Scrub Club (hehe) punch card and if I buy five I get a top or bottom free. So I need one more and then I'll have a free one. Sweet! It's like I'm in a coffee club for scrubs :)
My aunt was listening to me bemoan the fit of the uniforms that I had tried on that fateful day and she mentioned: "You know, UgRN, you do have to move in these clothes. Be careful with the sizing lest you stoop to do a transfer and your butt seam goes rrrrrrip. Happened to me before - no fun! And don't go commando!"
Pearls of wisdom.
So that brings us to Monday, the day of my second clinical! We met up on the unit at 1500 and we got to look through charts for the first time. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting by charts.... a chart, perhaps. Instead, I find huge heavy binders filled with pages of wonderfully illegible MedSchoolWriting™. Each person had an assigned patient for the day and we looked through their charts to find how the determinants of health may have impacted their lives. My patient (OMG that's fun to say) was an elderly guy who'd been on the unit for quite a while, awaiting a transfer to LTC. Unfortunately before I was really able to get into the health determinants, his real nurse whizzed into the room and stole his chart away. Bummer.
Anyway the big thing that was just so mind-bogglingly-terrifying, and that we all had sweaty palms over, was actually meeting the patients.
What if they want something?
What if they cry or yell at me?
What if they've got 3 heads like a chimaera and eat student nurses for snack?
We all stood around looking like a gaggle of wimps until my clinical instructor was like sooo.... either you meet them now and get it over with, or you sweat all through your dinner break. Oy, it's no fun when someone makes so much sense! So finally I took a deeeep breath, and crept into my patient's room:
HIMYNAMEISUGRNIWILLBEYOURSTUDENTNURSETODAY
Patient: (Looking up from his dinner) Uh, hello...?
Me: (Blushing like I might catch fire) Er, hi.
The conversation went fairly smoothly after that. Heart rate soon returned to normal. First patient contact? Success! So the clinical group went for supper break, hung out for a while, and then came back up the floor when we were fairly certain all of the patients would be done their meals.
I strode back on to the floor, grabbed my clipboard, and confidently headed into my victim's room, all ready to get The Best Health History Ever Gotten On A Human Being.
Except... he was asleep! Snoring away all curled up in fetal position. Temptation flared briefly to poke him until he awoke so that I could still get said TBHHEGOAHB. Haha kidding! Ooookay, so much for that.
Another girl ran into the same problem where her pt was also indulging in a post-meal pre-bedtime nap. So our CI took us around the unit trying to find some unclaimed pts who would (hopefully) appreciate a little noobie nurse company.
We happened upon a very teeny tiny LOL (that's short for little old lady, for those of you new to medbloggery) who was staring off into space and looked lonely. The CI, all pro, swooped in there and started talking to her and it was clear that this lady had dementia to some high degree. CI waved us in and introduced us: me and this other girl standing side by side.
Well that LOL looked from me to the other girl and back to me again, and said NOOOO GOOD, pointing at me and then pointing at her glasses. Apparently she didn't like my specs? She then looked back and forth between us again, looked back at me, and said EEEEYUCK and made the face to match!
Allow me to reiterate: the second patient I ever met said EEEEYUCK and made a face at me.
Uhhh...
CI waved me over and said "Oh, UgRN will come and look over a photo album with you, won't that be nice?" (This just after she made the face. I was mortified.)
No. Please, no. Please.
Yes indeedy. CI told me to sit on the side of her bed*.
*For the record, I'm not totally down with sitting on someone's bed unless I'm expressly invited to. Especially when they say EEEEYUCK when offered the opportunity to meet me.
So I sort of perched precariously on the side of her bed and the LOL lets out a YELP!
I jump up like a shot!
And yes, you heard it here first, the very first time I've ever gotten near a patient's bed with the intention of using therapeutic communication, I sat on her catheter tube.
On her catheter tube.
Fricken FANTASTIC! She's gonna love me now!
Thank God she didn't seem to blame me for her sudden acute cooter pain.
Anyway, her fam had brought in a photo album so I cracked that open and she was able to start pointing out people and stuff. She had trouble picking the right word for what she wanted to say, so it was obviously really frustrating for her to tell the stories she wanted to. She was also highly suggestible (I could have pointed to anyone and been like, oh, is that great-uncle Lenin? and she probably would have agreed) and I sure didn't want to screw with what remaining memories she did have so the conversation was stunted and forced at best. The conversation ran a bit like that one House episode where the dude kept saying words that were kind of like what he wanted to say but the whole conversation was totally random.
Anyway, that 45 minutes passed in a flash and the only regret I have (except for the EEEYUCK and catheter parts of course) is that because talking with her was kind of spontaneous, I never had a chance to find out her name or look at her chart. Next Monday that's the first thing I'm going to do!
Shortly after that we were dismissed for another week. I have 2 midterms next week, one in Micro and one in Physio, so that's what I've been up to this week.
And, in regards to my post below, I did indeed win the first place prize for an essay contest and will be awarded $1000! (Thanks for the encouragement Lou!) It's going straight into my beloved ING Direct tax-free savings account where I will cherish it, and all of its compounding tax contributions, forever... or at least until my student loans come due!
My aunt was listening to me bemoan the fit of the uniforms that I had tried on that fateful day and she mentioned: "You know, UgRN, you do have to move in these clothes. Be careful with the sizing lest you stoop to do a transfer and your butt seam goes rrrrrrip. Happened to me before - no fun! And don't go commando!"
Pearls of wisdom.
So that brings us to Monday, the day of my second clinical! We met up on the unit at 1500 and we got to look through charts for the first time. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting by charts.... a chart, perhaps. Instead, I find huge heavy binders filled with pages of wonderfully illegible MedSchoolWriting™. Each person had an assigned patient for the day and we looked through their charts to find how the determinants of health may have impacted their lives. My patient (OMG that's fun to say) was an elderly guy who'd been on the unit for quite a while, awaiting a transfer to LTC. Unfortunately before I was really able to get into the health determinants, his real nurse whizzed into the room and stole his chart away. Bummer.
Anyway the big thing that was just so mind-bogglingly-terrifying, and that we all had sweaty palms over, was actually meeting the patients.
What if they want something?
What if they cry or yell at me?
What if they've got 3 heads like a chimaera and eat student nurses for snack?
We all stood around looking like a gaggle of wimps until my clinical instructor was like sooo.... either you meet them now and get it over with, or you sweat all through your dinner break. Oy, it's no fun when someone makes so much sense! So finally I took a deeeep breath, and crept into my patient's room:
HIMYNAMEISUGRNIWILLBEYOURSTUDENTNURSETODAY
Patient: (Looking up from his dinner) Uh, hello...?
Me: (Blushing like I might catch fire) Er, hi.
The conversation went fairly smoothly after that. Heart rate soon returned to normal. First patient contact? Success! So the clinical group went for supper break, hung out for a while, and then came back up the floor when we were fairly certain all of the patients would be done their meals.
I strode back on to the floor, grabbed my clipboard, and confidently headed into my victim's room, all ready to get The Best Health History Ever Gotten On A Human Being.
Except... he was asleep! Snoring away all curled up in fetal position. Temptation flared briefly to poke him until he awoke so that I could still get said TBHHEGOAHB. Haha kidding! Ooookay, so much for that.
Another girl ran into the same problem where her pt was also indulging in a post-meal pre-bedtime nap. So our CI took us around the unit trying to find some unclaimed pts who would (hopefully) appreciate a little noobie nurse company.
We happened upon a very teeny tiny LOL (that's short for little old lady, for those of you new to medbloggery) who was staring off into space and looked lonely. The CI, all pro, swooped in there and started talking to her and it was clear that this lady had dementia to some high degree. CI waved us in and introduced us: me and this other girl standing side by side.
Well that LOL looked from me to the other girl and back to me again, and said NOOOO GOOD, pointing at me and then pointing at her glasses. Apparently she didn't like my specs? She then looked back and forth between us again, looked back at me, and said EEEEYUCK and made the face to match!
Allow me to reiterate: the second patient I ever met said EEEEYUCK and made a face at me.
Uhhh...
CI waved me over and said "Oh, UgRN will come and look over a photo album with you, won't that be nice?" (This just after she made the face. I was mortified.)
No. Please, no. Please.
Yes indeedy. CI told me to sit on the side of her bed*.
*For the record, I'm not totally down with sitting on someone's bed unless I'm expressly invited to. Especially when they say EEEEYUCK when offered the opportunity to meet me.
So I sort of perched precariously on the side of her bed and the LOL lets out a YELP!
I jump up like a shot!
And yes, you heard it here first, the very first time I've ever gotten near a patient's bed with the intention of using therapeutic communication, I sat on her catheter tube.
On her catheter tube.
Fricken FANTASTIC! She's gonna love me now!
Thank God she didn't seem to blame me for her sudden acute cooter pain.
Anyway, her fam had brought in a photo album so I cracked that open and she was able to start pointing out people and stuff. She had trouble picking the right word for what she wanted to say, so it was obviously really frustrating for her to tell the stories she wanted to. She was also highly suggestible (I could have pointed to anyone and been like, oh, is that great-uncle Lenin? and she probably would have agreed) and I sure didn't want to screw with what remaining memories she did have so the conversation was stunted and forced at best. The conversation ran a bit like that one House episode where the dude kept saying words that were kind of like what he wanted to say but the whole conversation was totally random.
Anyway, that 45 minutes passed in a flash and the only regret I have (except for the EEEYUCK and catheter parts of course) is that because talking with her was kind of spontaneous, I never had a chance to find out her name or look at her chart. Next Monday that's the first thing I'm going to do!
Shortly after that we were dismissed for another week. I have 2 midterms next week, one in Micro and one in Physio, so that's what I've been up to this week.
And, in regards to my post below, I did indeed win the first place prize for an essay contest and will be awarded $1000! (Thanks for the encouragement Lou!) It's going straight into my beloved ING Direct tax-free savings account where I will cherish it, and all of its compounding tax contributions, forever... or at least until my student loans come due!
Monday, January 19, 2009
Ok, the scrubs saga
I know I said I'd post it yesterday, but a good friend called me up and wanted some her-time. "Yes, for an hour," said I, knowing that it would probably end up going until night time. Which it did.
Weekend? Shot!
Anyway, about the scrubs. So I had been making huge hints to my mom for the last 6 months that I would need scrubs to wear for clinicals but I have so very little (insert tear) disposable income and wouldn't she please help me?
Of course she agreed so we went out Saturday on a medical shopping spree of sorts. I only bought a few pairs of scrubs and shoes. The stethoscope and other gear will have to wait until after March break.
So we went to the store that everyone was talking about because we get a student discount there. I'm normally a large so I pulled a few different colors that I liked of various brands. There were all KINDS of colors - acid green, bubble gum pink, code brown... not so many that were attractive.
The first pair I tried on were Mobb, the ones that I thought I'd like the best. First - the material was crap. It was scratchy polyester, very thin. I put on the top first and it was like I'd just eaten ten bowls of lard. I looked fat. Like for real. Self confidence puddled somewhere around my feet. OMG! My mom and I looked at each other - were they supposed to fit this way? Maybe they were meant to make me look like a whale. I pulled on the pants and had a delightful new FUPA. Yay. I could not get those off fast enough!
The next pair were Koi pants (the Lindsey ones). The fabric was really comfortable, they seemed sturdy enough, and the rise was normal. I wasn't entirely stoked about the slightly tapered leg. Altogether though they looked ok and had a ton of pockets, so I got a pair of those in navy.
Let me just add - WTF is with these designers? Stacy and Clinton would be ashamed. Tapered legs, elastic waistband that goes up to my bra, built-in FUPA pouch, every top looking like it's designed for maternity wear? The only tops that fit good were covered in a barf-inducing dizzying floral pattern? Truly. I might just have to pull apart a pair and make my own scrubs.
So, dejected, I bought the Koi pants (which were OK... not the best, but wearable) and a Cherokee top that fit my top but was sadly patterned with flowers and boxes. $78 for the two.
We then swung by Mark's Work Wearhouse, which, if I remember correctly, is a Canadian phenomenon along with Can Tire and Tim Hortons. I had heard they carried scrubs, so we thought what the hell, let's go see what they have there. My hopes were not especially high.
I tried on a few pairs and other than the fact that they fit HUGE (as in, I am normally a large but I fit a small), they actually were flattering! I looked like I wasn't a box and there was no excess pouches of fabric in sight. So I got two more pairs there. And they were, like, a third the price of the Koi/Cherokee combo. HealthPro is the brand, I think, and I'm definitely a believer of Mark's.
As for shoes, we stopped by a local store that came highly recommended by my dad because they make his orthotics. I think the really great service I was expecting was helping someone else, because I got a girl about my age who appeared to know sweet dick all about shoes. I asked her what the nearby hospital staff wore and she just pointed at all the white shoes on the wall. Big help...
I did eventually settle on a pair of New Balance walking shoes, but it was tough to tell as they didn't have my size in stock and will order it in for me. So in the meantime we got a cheapass $10 pair of white shoes that will have to do for a couple of weeks.
Anyway, it looks like I spent way longer writing this post than I planned, and I had better get moving.
The next time you hear from me, I will be a for real nursing student with actual hospital experience!!
Saturday, January 17, 2009
I bought scrubs today!
Rather, my mom bought me some.
These are the first sets I have ever owned!!
The shopping experience was just awful. So awful that I will describe at length tomorrow.
Good night world <3
These are the first sets I have ever owned!!
The shopping experience was just awful. So awful that I will describe at length tomorrow.
Good night world <3
Thursday, June 12, 2008
A small commentary...
On the effect that a proper uniform can have.
A couple of weeks ago, I went to the 'Gina Doc for my semi-annual exam. The clinic is small, friendly, and pro-female, so I really like going there. It's got a casual sisterhood vibe. Actually, the first time I went there and an RN consulted with me on my sexual history, I got my first real glimpse into the world of nursing beyond the hospital. It seems like a great job! She was wearing some business casual slacks and jewelry, and had a little office overlooking the park. No shiftwork for her, either. That clinic is a we-close-early-on-Friday kind of place.
So getting more to the point: I went for an exam a couple of weeks ago, and a different nurse escorted me back to the exam room. This nurse was a far cry from my first nurse. It didn't even occur to me that she was a nurse, honestly.
First impression: big woman in smaaalll clothes. Tighty jeans and spaghetti strap tank. Open-toe heels, bangles, and loud rings on every finger. Lovehandles showing, complete with tramp stamp, and was that a thong strap? All-around yikes. Nice lady. Did NOT get the memo about her work attire.
Which leads me to a point brought up on I am a Nursing Student:
It always amazes me how willing people are to get naked for you once you wear a hospital uniform. I've had a good number of patients sofar this semester, and not a one objected to me lifting their shirts to listen to their chest, or helping them put on clean undies and a gown. Of course, they have no reason to worry about me seeing them naked; I am a professional. I'm going to see a million before I'm done. But what is it that makes them trust me with their body more than they would any other stranger? Surely it isn't the purple uniform... though I'm certain they'd be more uneasy if I was there wearing jeans and a tee-shirt.
Until my nurse introduced herself as one, I had no idea what her role in this clinic might be. I thought she was a receptionist who needed a visit from Stacy and Clinton. My mind, already attuned to the healthcare industry, did not jump to "Healthcare Professional".
This is not a commentary on how she did her job. She was nice, sounded professional, and she obviously has some brains.
This is a commentary on the power of first impressions. I would not have felt as comfortable dropping my pants for her as I would have for someone in scrubs, regardless of level of training. I would, at first blush, rather have a student in scrubs assist in my exam than an RN dressed like a hoochie mama.
Strange, no?
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