tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55422142786933087172024-03-03T16:25:28.642-08:00ED VignettesI have always wanted to write about the fascinating vignettes of Emergency Department life. This blog is my creative attempt to highlight the ups and downs of life in my busy ED. It is not just a room anymore, it's a department. It is the gateway to the scary world of hospitals. Despite the grim faces of nurses as they struggle with the increased volume of patients, we find time to celebrate humor and simple joys; this is how we survive.Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-70516306764882719432023-10-05T19:07:00.006-07:002023-10-05T19:54:10.185-07:00Coler and Us... Through The Years<p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOs6YsgMJGVoTDdfHwKCKy-6O7br6zrgfOvQePvhzXv2orXiae_SIQNPorkH4tdEuR7Ez0NUojIeuA6olEZtVtw2_fzCJamfmSN34OrKiMJMYLgkGcenpd2FmPERzjnooWUUzP73Wpf7zxSMIYAtqzBTGDcBciTHUoTp86P912efFm7PvWWk8shtBTfg0/s1403/385062512_7571051526244844_8784782039758035202_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1403" data-original-width="1297" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOs6YsgMJGVoTDdfHwKCKy-6O7br6zrgfOvQePvhzXv2orXiae_SIQNPorkH4tdEuR7Ez0NUojIeuA6olEZtVtw2_fzCJamfmSN34OrKiMJMYLgkGcenpd2FmPERzjnooWUUzP73Wpf7zxSMIYAtqzBTGDcBciTHUoTp86P912efFm7PvWWk8shtBTfg0/w437-h472/385062512_7571051526244844_8784782039758035202_n.jpg" width="437" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In the 1980's, the Pinoys invaded Roosevelt Island. Forty-one years ago, on this tiny island in the middle of the East River between
Manhattan and Queens, the Filipino nurses started coming in earnest. In the
70’s, Filipino nurses were recruited for the two chronic care facilities on
that little island. But in the 1980’s, the nursing shortage was at its worst.
The Pinoy nurses were the city hospitals’ solution for the nursing crisis. With
stars in our eyes and dreams in our hearts, we immigrated to the land of
promise. After the first five Pinays came in 1982, there was an avalanche of
nurses with about 100 nurses recruited from January to May of 1983 to work at
Coler Memorial Hospital.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">We are forever bonded by the experience of starting our
nursing career in the United States. We struggled to adapt to a new life and
culture. We had to learn the lingo, and I am almost certain that somebody else,
aside from me, did not know that a Q-tip is a cotton applicator. My four years at Coler started me on a good path, and my memories of my first years are forever in my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Sept. 30, 2023- Coler Filipino Nurses Grand Reunion at
D’Haven Restaurant and Club.</b> <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">And so we all came together to celebrate our beginnings, all
71 of us who answered the call from the organizers, the Glowing Gold Ladies.
The nurses of Coler Hospital (retired and not) converged from far and wide-
from California, Texas, Florida, and New Jersey. The out-of-towners brought
their little sunshine to cheer the rain-drenched New Yorkers. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Origs from 1982 were there. Then, the different batches
of nurses who arrived in 1983 and beyond showed en force. So happy to reconnect
with those who started life in the United States as young, naive, and eager
nurses. A return to our wonder years, when life was challenging but simple. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thank you to the Glowing Gold Ladies for organizing such a
massive and fun reunion. Thank you for the historical presentation about Coler,
as well as showing our old pictures. At first, it was difficult to remember the
names (getting old, you know) but the souvenir journal helped to clear the
cobwebs in our minds. Love seeing familiar faces light up with recognition.
Somehow, I am still Cerrudo for most. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">And we got to celebrate our September birthdays again. I
wish to have been able to collect some nursing stories from this group with
their varied experiences. Collectively, we have a lifetime of memories to share.
But tonight was for being young again and just having a good time. We started
as colleagues, and we ended as a Coler family.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl76XL-qdEy1Nbi7hN9hM4ZoNs3pqcXab953iBfinyE0YJjFaHH_JKAOZ4wTJAfGqykWfYq8aVq3RxCaUZWz7eVSCO4PN3fqMweRj68W17XYzm9XX7mA5xzPt3XnxtTRAJs-JDeFVSDRA-wn-KqZdp7D8DlzNMX3jsWELIgIOYd6LHFEqnxQwFU2-9hHs/s1418/385057850_7294607757234910_3263127140169173665_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1418" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl76XL-qdEy1Nbi7hN9hM4ZoNs3pqcXab953iBfinyE0YJjFaHH_JKAOZ4wTJAfGqykWfYq8aVq3RxCaUZWz7eVSCO4PN3fqMweRj68W17XYzm9XX7mA5xzPt3XnxtTRAJs-JDeFVSDRA-wn-KqZdp7D8DlzNMX3jsWELIgIOYd6LHFEqnxQwFU2-9hHs/w640-h307/385057850_7294607757234910_3263127140169173665_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Oct. 1, 2023- Day 2 Coler Filipino Nurses picnic </b>reunion
at Cunningham Park sponsored by the energetic Glowing Gold Ladies. I bet that
this dynamic group can do anything they set their minds to. Well, I have a
proposition to them that I will talk about in a new blog post soon (this one). I came only
for a short visit due to another appointment but I just wanted to bond again
over our shared experiences when we started at Coler. The food was great, the
music was infectious, and the camaraderie made this whole weekend such a
momentous occasion.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6gBhvOIDRdmyDwrpbuB7MU6HG-KbcJFBI8oogJkqjfx0CGpTr0c4-iz0-mmu_lm2laF2WvRgIcfKGOilaYw8Jv1xmXAozgd0Wh90YEamMidibxEeyi8Ac3DIUpgrm8o1A5ML6G0nYQ5ReM_a1BYeZeiLj0srua3Sg04M_qsHDGB5blWziNHKkdkACqyY/s2048/385818237_7574554922561171_2909034003623722730_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1026" data-original-width="2048" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6gBhvOIDRdmyDwrpbuB7MU6HG-KbcJFBI8oogJkqjfx0CGpTr0c4-iz0-mmu_lm2laF2WvRgIcfKGOilaYw8Jv1xmXAozgd0Wh90YEamMidibxEeyi8Ac3DIUpgrm8o1A5ML6G0nYQ5ReM_a1BYeZeiLj0srua3Sg04M_qsHDGB5blWziNHKkdkACqyY/w614-h307/385818237_7574554922561171_2909034003623722730_n.jpg" width="614" /></a></div><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">We’ve come a long way.<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Look at how far we've come; no more fumbling neophytes but
confident and successful Pinoy and Pinay nurses. Back then, we were nervous, naïve,
and unsure about our future in this foreign land. Along the way, we forged our own paths, drawn
by our interests and passions. We defined our own successes and chased our own
rainbows. We stood on the shoulders of those who came before us, and we
extended our support to those who came after us.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">If we wrote a letter to our 1983 selves, we probably would
have written several pages of advice. But we learned from our mistakes, and we
grew stronger from the trial of fire. I made a meme of my younger self as I
stood looking toward Manhattan, “Someday, you will retire. And you will know
that you were a bad-ass nurse who cared for her patients and her colleagues.” <o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicz2HfZfhTdA0QrYaZjoWeIK2pENCceLJVhOAaluCtVxVH96fhyXM_HuPhyphenhyphenxarqRzzKaLAdPGxP3BcM6zuKdvO1RYUI645tiPQvLPY8IwRbUgVwRuiU4XSWWcTD3evYdRMw61foFgn4nO2Y6TzaK0LlUpK31M17aQOgvjzSXeJaZ2AUgWkw7oJwXbIkDU/s584/Note%20to%20self.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="584" data-original-width="572" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicz2HfZfhTdA0QrYaZjoWeIK2pENCceLJVhOAaluCtVxVH96fhyXM_HuPhyphenhyphenxarqRzzKaLAdPGxP3BcM6zuKdvO1RYUI645tiPQvLPY8IwRbUgVwRuiU4XSWWcTD3evYdRMw61foFgn4nO2Y6TzaK0LlUpK31M17aQOgvjzSXeJaZ2AUgWkw7oJwXbIkDU/w417-h426/Note%20to%20self.png" width="417" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Writing our Stories<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ever since I can remember, I was always writing. As a nurse,
my experiences since I started In Coler have given me a rich source of
inspiration, and creative ideas, but most importantly, writing was my personal
therapy. As a nurse educator, I learned that telling stories about my clinical
experiences made my lessons relatable, and easier to understand. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In 2017, a patient reached out to me. I didn’t know him at
all, but he read one of my blog posts. He wanted me to tell his story. He was
facing major surgery after an unfortunate complication from a previous
operation. He wrote, “<i>I write to you to thank you for sharing all of your
stories to exemplify how important nurses are in the most dire of situations. I
would love to tell you of the many ways that the nurses made a difference in my
care. How they comforted me when I was anxious; when I just needed someone to
talk to.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our nursing stories do not have to be used only in
classrooms. Our stories (poignant and sad, humorous and satirical, emotional
and inspirational) can also be shared with the general public. Have we not
often despaired that nurses are underrepresented in news stories and movies? <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">According to the Gallup poll, Nursing is the most
trustworthy profession, but where is the hype about the impact of nursing?
After the hero-worship during the peak of the pandemic, the balloon had
deflated and healthcare workers, especially the nurses, are now even subjected
to workplace violence. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I wrote in the preface of my book<i> <b>ER Nurse: The Warrior
Within</b>, “With my stories, I want to magnify the nurses’ voice, to define and
exemplify the resilience of the front liners, I believe that there is always
something in my stories that will resonate with any nurse or any caregiver. I
hope to inspire future nurses and to reassure current nurses that they make a
difference in somebody’s lives”.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I was driving home before our grand reunion, I had an
epiphany. The nurses of Coler have so many stories to tell, enough to share
with the next generation of nurses who will rise up to the challenge of a new
life away from home. The narratives would be rich and compelling for future
nurses to learn from. Enough stories to fill another book, right?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> So my dear Coler mates, why don't we write our stories? Maybe an anthology of our first-year experiences, or our rise to the top? Maybe your love stories?</span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/2023/01/the-first-funny-years-in-america.html">The First Funny Years in America</a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">http://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/2023/01/the-first-funny-years-in-america.html</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #513831; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 30px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;"><a href="http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-firsts-as-nurse-in-us.html" style="color: #ff1900; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="font-size: small;">My Firsts... as a Nurse in the U.S.</span></a></h3><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #ffffe5; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.49px;"><a href="http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/firsts" style="color: #cc0033; text-decoration-line: none;">http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/firsts</a><o:p></o:p></p><p style="background-color: #ffffe5; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.49px;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #ffffe5; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.49px;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #ffffe5; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.49px;"><o:p><a href="https://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/2014/03/nursing-thirty-one-years-ago.html" style="color: #cc0033; text-decoration-line: none;">Nursing... Thirty-One Years Ago</a><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #ffffe5; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.49px;"><o:p>http://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/search/label/Coler%20Memorial%20Hospital</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: #ffffe5; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.49px;"><o:p><br /></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-30083735331084877842023-03-30T18:10:00.013-07:002023-04-01T10:40:07.309-07:00Kindness Matters<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QvbTzOiYVrPio59xuWI44R3COuPpQkDxq9FWT7P3a2RYSb9FOyKvaiJDyMSRzLJHNNXOVJAu4frSX3OaC-5s9CW6Aa92owWE3YcZR36AeTKu9Adt8fRWUluiRHLo4dPT3-BHLelyK2-jMu4QytyOxLiO3Z_AKX0Z9euqg33trQXynPN8rocNC4BS/s565/Be%20Kind.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="565" height="411" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0QvbTzOiYVrPio59xuWI44R3COuPpQkDxq9FWT7P3a2RYSb9FOyKvaiJDyMSRzLJHNNXOVJAu4frSX3OaC-5s9CW6Aa92owWE3YcZR36AeTKu9Adt8fRWUluiRHLo4dPT3-BHLelyK2-jMu4QytyOxLiO3Z_AKX0Z9euqg33trQXynPN8rocNC4BS/w576-h411/Be%20Kind.png" width="576" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">As a nurse, I see kindness daily from the healthcare
workers. Even if they are short-staffed, they still treat their patients with
utmost respect and care. During the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, the ache in my heart was eased by the kindness of the staff to their patients, and to each other.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In my previous hospital, a night nurse stayed beyond
her shift to provide emotional support to an anxious, elderly nursing home
patient awaiting surgery. I have always known that a heart of gold lies beneath
the tough, no-nonsense exterior. She went above and beyond that day,
recognizing that the feisty, belligerent patient was just scared.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Last week, a patient with explosive diarrhea slipped on the floor. He was morbidly obese, and he needed help to get back to his bed. He was obviously embarrassed, but a group of nurses and techs reassured him and cleaned him up quickly, without any fuss, and treated him with respect. When his family arrived, they saw a smiling patient, his dignity intact.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Despite the troubling news of crime and violence, some
stories tug at my heart when I read about simple acts of decency and humanity. After a hard day's work, I do not want to read more of man's atrocities against their fellow men. I prefer to read feel-good stories. Maybe it’s a mindful exercise to positively fill my life, despite the
challenges and adversities. Just like the personal protective equipment we use every day to protect us from contamination, I think that a daily dose of kind thoughts gives me the moral fortitude to carry on.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Last month, my friend Rosemarie wrote this when she
picked up her son at the train station: “<i>While I was sitting in my warm car, I
noticed an older couple lying on the bench. The woman ensured the man was
snuggled and wrapped tightly in a blanket and then secured herself. I have
never seen homeless where I live, and seeing them struggle broke my heart. But
watching their compassion for each other and knowing they were sitting in
30-degree weather. I realized I was sent to this train by my dad. I told them
if they could walk a few blocks away while I waited for my son, I would make
sure they would be safe at a hotel for the night with food. Twenty minutes
later, when the room key was handed to me, I knew my dad sent me as he would
always help anyone in need”</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Somebody messaged me yesterday on LinkedIn. I don’t know
what I did precisely to merit such, but I appreciate the unexpected message
from my former nurse. I was her head nurse in the ER 27 years ago. She thanked
me for my kindness to her when she was a novice nurse in one of the busiest ERs
in New York City.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">When I came home today, I found a Thank you card from a
former patient care technician who struggled to complete her nursing education
while working. Because I saw her potential to be a compassionate nurse, I approved her request for flexible
scheduling. In two years, she completed her accelerated program, graduated with her Bachelor’s degree, and later joined the ER as
a full-fledged registered nurse.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Mdl1I7PPc9hL8nOlcmg1g1nWGYTQjk5qhNI_stTxhAMU7Q9dQ_WgSB_NXSWuJWCrSbFBXdW0VuQgZiBBBJ6iGhZIh7y9Yn2E7RbMm9jyZMgLgWppG3DlRHF2HHlE3I-D-DzU0lZFik283A_Rdhp8mwT5oy4PHdy9rK4Yd2HeC3crKGdp54YL-gvD/s588/61710893_2836978186318892_504747069181788160_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="217" data-original-width="588" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Mdl1I7PPc9hL8nOlcmg1g1nWGYTQjk5qhNI_stTxhAMU7Q9dQ_WgSB_NXSWuJWCrSbFBXdW0VuQgZiBBBJ6iGhZIh7y9Yn2E7RbMm9jyZMgLgWppG3DlRHF2HHlE3I-D-DzU0lZFik283A_Rdhp8mwT5oy4PHdy9rK4Yd2HeC3crKGdp54YL-gvD/w572-h211/61710893_2836978186318892_504747069181788160_n.jpg" width="572" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kindness matters. It is a gift to another human being; a
gift that anyone can pay forward. I have received benevolent and selfless </span><span style="font-size: medium;">gestures from family, friends, and sometimes strangers. Angels in disguise, my lifeline when I needed support.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">A random act of kindness can mean a whole world of
difference to somebody at their saddest point. To a lonely person, a simple smile
and a caring touch mean they matter. For someone in need, a helping hand may
give them that fighting chance.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I resolve to make kindness a daily presence in my life. As
other special people changed my life and showed me that there is light at the
end of the tunnel, I want to be part of the wave of kindness for someone else. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I am human, just like everybody else. Perfectly imperfect, but I try to live a good life. I make mistakes, but I will
not consciously be unkind to somebody, nor I will I intentionally cause harm to
anyone. I believe that f</span><span style="font-size: medium;">or everything I do, blessings come back tenfold. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yes, kindness does matter. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-74627604121864591812023-01-31T21:00:00.032-08:002023-10-05T18:35:28.474-07:00The First Funny Years in America<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0jeA0ISNj1ymQChq05lSNiAA6h8R_n-tCjaNTWttQYe5tNtVaKvAgg-HC6dNvA5f5mir8m9RK-hFwSMG9JYqt2i_Bj4QPimA6718rRb2jnPisL7z3pwzm0hdi3wYkH_iPGGz5oS5ewvxF0vVeRH50GMJRx4RLRpZU8UwDjmiC-zTQ4GTQq6YD8vF/s960/10603775_1034925756524153_3200273688068480984_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="532" data-original-width="960" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0jeA0ISNj1ymQChq05lSNiAA6h8R_n-tCjaNTWttQYe5tNtVaKvAgg-HC6dNvA5f5mir8m9RK-hFwSMG9JYqt2i_Bj4QPimA6718rRb2jnPisL7z3pwzm0hdi3wYkH_iPGGz5oS5ewvxF0vVeRH50GMJRx4RLRpZU8UwDjmiC-zTQ4GTQq6YD8vF/w593-h328/10603775_1034925756524153_3200273688068480984_n.jpg" width="593" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Forty years ago, in January 1983, I started my nursing
career in America. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">A month ago, I found an old note I wrote on my first night on New York soil.
It was both a time of uncertainty and excitement for this new
journey. It was exhilarating and yet tinged with homesickness. My first time
away from home. I felt unprepared to be on my own, not knowing how to cook or do
the laundry. Even though my family was not rich, we still managed to have a
housemaid at home, mainly because my parents wanted me to concentrate on my
studies.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was young, adventurous, and full of dreams. Suddenly independent, suddenly an adult. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Back then, nurses were only paid about $18,000 a year. I felt rich.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>New friends</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">There was a small group of Filipino nurses who came before
us in 1982. They were our mentors. Our group of 20 nurses was the first of many batches of recruits from the
Philippines who settled in Coler Memorial Hospital, a long-term care facility in
picturesque Roosevelt Island in New York. The influx of Filipino nurses was the
city hospitals’ answer to the nursing shortage that gripped the US in the 1980s.
<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Coming to America was a culture shock. New to the country
and new to the hospital system. The LPNs ruled the roost for a long time, so
our advent was met with cynicism and hostility. We were young, bright-eyed,
naïve, and ready to serve. Thankfully, the camaraderie among the Filipino
nurses made us strong and united, and we were able to charm our way into our
fellow staff members’ hearts. Somehow, the barriers came down and the LPNs and
the RNs worked well together. It may be because we worked our asses off, as
well as we were generous in sharing our food with everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj25Dh5re_fzel34PucfDCkcx90lO7L8sASeUXFlXLwTUHpDZtzr_TfqAbWt3KgFk1LwrtLwDwbGPuperopQJowZJvI40b0PWWEZcyW1V7P11Xc-t99GOoBEDtxhWGJ-oTR8o9xJ63m0L39Il2KEJ23Iph1a4_KoOpEU6cyE7rs2PVn0rNDJAUR86Fp/s960/582809_512339498782784_2120646341_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="960" height="413" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj25Dh5re_fzel34PucfDCkcx90lO7L8sASeUXFlXLwTUHpDZtzr_TfqAbWt3KgFk1LwrtLwDwbGPuperopQJowZJvI40b0PWWEZcyW1V7P11Xc-t99GOoBEDtxhWGJ-oTR8o9xJ63m0L39Il2KEJ23Iph1a4_KoOpEU6cyE7rs2PVn0rNDJAUR86Fp/w594-h413/582809_512339498782784_2120646341_n.jpg" width="594" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was a whole new world for us. Most of us were in our
twenties and we were ready to take on the world. But I was actually unprepared to be on my own in a foreign land. I was
not domesticated at all; completely sheltered and spoiled. I never learned to
cook, Thanks, Mom. I admit that my mom gave up on teaching me when I almost
burned the house down when I tried to fry a fish or was it when I overboiled
the egg?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">We survived because we found humor in anything and
everything. Mostly we laughed at
ourselves and at our clumsy ways to acclimate ourselves to our new lives. For
our first month in New York, we were housed in a dorm near the hospital. We
spent our nights comparing notes of our misadventures with each other. Soon,
our funny stories were epic among our friends. These were funny moments that
could have been great for a stand-up routine. If there was a female nurse Jokoy,
it would have been one of us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrE5z3JrgjhhhnU9OIbyJQi4FatpB6cPkE7OyfBWKdrFcMQmEuZB4rzUKoXeAjPHzRqaJ2AU2QGIYSFQj8VsmEsFjTymsERspctoIiaOLGlFSjzIXvvu4qIUujSU86j5Tl1CRPF2wiBeTs6e-I-gBMJY5YkQWGMd5zhWnuTfPQm3ck8S-VimDBF3-/s960/582669_512338928782841_28504922_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="733" data-original-width="960" height="457" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrE5z3JrgjhhhnU9OIbyJQi4FatpB6cPkE7OyfBWKdrFcMQmEuZB4rzUKoXeAjPHzRqaJ2AU2QGIYSFQj8VsmEsFjTymsERspctoIiaOLGlFSjzIXvvu4qIUujSU86j5Tl1CRPF2wiBeTs6e-I-gBMJY5YkQWGMd5zhWnuTfPQm3ck8S-VimDBF3-/w598-h457/582669_512338928782841_28504922_n.jpg" width="598" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaK0_7V1x6XlM4XdEPJx1pNU4tlYBX--Z8mLXugv6FqTZa7M1Y0udMEbZ7dyPuAgsQFdqrskEkLawpPPfpGtqQf_T0Wn_Tv_YT9F81_oMlbtdaB3fJN3DOKa-7zjb0md8RH09tvDh8IVftsbJwFSICi1Yhjxavj5aXUaH3JvS6AQbuJ5CnHHAKPox7/s960/523191_512339152116152_1021539885_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="960" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaK0_7V1x6XlM4XdEPJx1pNU4tlYBX--Z8mLXugv6FqTZa7M1Y0udMEbZ7dyPuAgsQFdqrskEkLawpPPfpGtqQf_T0Wn_Tv_YT9F81_oMlbtdaB3fJN3DOKa-7zjb0md8RH09tvDh8IVftsbJwFSICi1Yhjxavj5aXUaH3JvS6AQbuJ5CnHHAKPox7/w611-h404/523191_512339152116152_1021539885_n.jpg" width="611" /></a></b></div><b><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Accents/ Pronunciations</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">For any new immigrants to a new place, getting used to the
accent, slang, and colloquialism is always a challenge. I sometimes got
defensive in my mind when someone snickered at my mispronunciations. Isn’t it
that research showed that those who are bilingual actually are intelligent
people? So what if my tongue got twisted, at least my grammar was way better (modesty aside) than
some of the native speakers.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">On our second day in New York, my friends and I wanted to
venture out to Manhattan to see the famous Bloomingdale’s and ride the
Roosevelt Island tram. I approached the security officer in the hospital to ask for
directions. I asked for a “map”. His face showed his confusion, but he
gallantly gave me a “mop” that he borrowed from a passing housekeeper. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Behind
me, my friends were doubled up in laughter as they teased me, “<i>long aaaa,
use your long aaaa</i>”. They were actually wrong because "map" has the soft 'a' sound like 'clap', and 'mop' has the soft 'o' sound like 'shop'.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The next day, I got my revenge. One of the doctors jumped in
fear when he heard my friend ask the clerk if she saw her “bag”. The doctor
thought my friend saw a “bug”, or as he called it, “<i>Cucaracha!</i>” Of course, I muttered
to my friend, “<i>Short 'a', use your short 'a' </i>”, exaggerated gesture and all. Soft vs short, how confusing. My gosh, it wasn’t easy
to be “Americanized”.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">One day, my head nurse sent me out to the Supply Room for some Q-tips. I was confident that I could figure it out because the bins were all labeled. For 15 minutes, I searched and could not find anything resembling a tip shaped like a "Q". I was almost in tears when the head nurse came into the room and grabbed the cotton applicators herself.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Cooking<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">After a month, our friends (Tess, Evelyn, Fe, and I) moved
in together as roommates in a walk-up apartment in Steinway in Astoria, Queens.
Hence, we were called the Steinway ladies. We shared cooking duties, but it was
soon apparent that I did not have the talent to dice, slice, stir, and season the
food to anything near palatable. My food experiments became fodder for jokes at
our parties. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">For some, cooking relaxes them. Just the thought of having to come up with an edible dish stressed me and ruined my day off. My "monggo with sardines" never passed muster. By mutual agreement, and to the relief of all sides, I was assigned
as the official dishwasher. Actually, it saved our friendship and my sanity.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23fodcFiJOj0vdIsffiYmJpLb7IBYrlfB9PDjgj-BUzZcA_6QCP1PyxeZ4B04DsuR_CQf3ED0mWJQPN-lTSqiB4YIqGTui2mqtSSg5-DzF_oXTAuK_-fGQYFQDRy91XoB_Zrw5IfhpY0utdfYNgAL0v2cWaDOnPFdcf1LzeaZKD6HCjBzWoxB-BjQEbs/s960/292298_512342702115797_232544352_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="513" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi23fodcFiJOj0vdIsffiYmJpLb7IBYrlfB9PDjgj-BUzZcA_6QCP1PyxeZ4B04DsuR_CQf3ED0mWJQPN-lTSqiB4YIqGTui2mqtSSg5-DzF_oXTAuK_-fGQYFQDRy91XoB_Zrw5IfhpY0utdfYNgAL0v2cWaDOnPFdcf1LzeaZKD6HCjBzWoxB-BjQEbs/s320/292298_512342702115797_232544352_n.jpg" width="171" /></a></b></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">First Blizzard</span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In February 1983, we experienced our first snow. The first
snow crystals that came down from the skies were magical. I remembered sticking
out my tongue and thanking God for finally experiencing what I only saw in the movies.
I hugged a tree and did my first-ever “snow angel”.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The nice snow turned into a "Megalopolitan Blizzard"
that buried New York with 2 feet of snow. We should have been hibernating in
our cozy and warm apartment and enjoying our off days decorating our new place.
But we needed a dining set. So, after the storm passed, we trudged through snow
that came up to our thighs carrying the dinette and four chairs, about 2 blocks
away from home. We should have been mortified at the cars honking at us, but we comforted ourselves that nobody would recognize us with the scarves covering our faces. It was a strange sight, indeed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">One day, I hang my hand-washed white pants outside our window to dry. The next day, it was stiff as a board. Because all my uniforms were still in the dirty hamper, I had no choice but to blow dry my pants. So, I came to work with my legs stiff, but at least, warm and toasty.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6et2cOekylM3MRCyKf4RvlwB-PNB-NvO4ICvkP7vqgMTUaEjeX4iA8ZAQmc6DYRJtsIckKnGwzgHQBkXxZ5wZCsT9syuGiBNBUJsPsCesxu_mesfS-AU0FZLqojLyF-bKN8ZAT01zmWPoSbxDbb-coYgO5fnrAlBW79fpat7oM4DPBipwwHhP6TmF/s960/10888468_1034926809857381_7356107297595425567_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="762" data-original-width="960" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6et2cOekylM3MRCyKf4RvlwB-PNB-NvO4ICvkP7vqgMTUaEjeX4iA8ZAQmc6DYRJtsIckKnGwzgHQBkXxZ5wZCsT9syuGiBNBUJsPsCesxu_mesfS-AU0FZLqojLyF-bKN8ZAT01zmWPoSbxDbb-coYgO5fnrAlBW79fpat7oM4DPBipwwHhP6TmF/w511-h406/10888468_1034926809857381_7356107297595425567_n.jpg" width="511" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">At the Laundromat, as told by Fe</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The first time we went to the laundromat for the first
time, I panicked when I looked into the washer and could not find my clothes. I
told Evelyn that my clothes were probably done so I climbed and looked at the
back of the machine. I even asked the owner of the laundromat '<i>Where are my clothes?'</i>.
It’s good he did not understand me. Then, the machine stopped spinning, and
like magic, my clothes were back.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Bebs and her funny memories<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bebs was from another group called the Astoria Ladies. She
said, “The funniest and scary moment was when I went to the World Trade Center with Malou.
We wanted to send money home through the Philippine National Bank. <i>Bagong salta
sa Amerika</i>. It was lunchtime then. Just imagine we were with all the businessmen
either going to their office or whatever. The elevator was terrifyingly fast then
I saw the sign “Press to stop”. In my curiosity (rather, my stupidity), I
pressed the button. The elevator went to a sudden halt like there was an
earthquake. Somebody called on the elevator phone, “<i>A girl in the elevator
pulled the emergency button”</i>. My face turned red. What should have been only a
few minutes to our destination floor took maybe 20 minutes to have the
repairmen get the elevator back to normal operation. It was one of the most embarrassing
experiences I had as a newbie here in the USA."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Remember in the hospital cafeteria, we were being watched
for using a spoon and fork to eat!!!?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">“When we went to use the public washing machine, I put too
much detergent that the bubbles overflowed out of the top.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">“We fell in line in TKTS to see a movie; we thought that’s
where to get movie tickets”.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRhV9sfwuBtLhcp8pQOz5aQeujLJflwFVG1eV6jhed-uQNtgA9PIGpidaVofJMntDwb8aD8TAoe8FvW8TDCogJj6weE_BF1tU3L3Ea_YpKl0ZVsSIQMP9r-bxvY_HE5e98L40GvCOHquHhep77UqxkYM5Px29GrjjwydHBreOXcbSm012CSiCUdQ3e/s611/Picture1.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="407" data-original-width="611" height="373" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRhV9sfwuBtLhcp8pQOz5aQeujLJflwFVG1eV6jhed-uQNtgA9PIGpidaVofJMntDwb8aD8TAoe8FvW8TDCogJj6weE_BF1tU3L3Ea_YpKl0ZVsSIQMP9r-bxvY_HE5e98L40GvCOHquHhep77UqxkYM5Px29GrjjwydHBreOXcbSm012CSiCUdQ3e/w561-h373/Picture1.png" width="561" /></a></b></div><b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: large;">Hey, Bebs! Don't forget that you posed like the University of the Philippines Oblation statue. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">East River flirting</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">During our first summer, my friends and I often hang out at the riverfront overlooking Manhattan. The skyline was magnificent, The towering buildings rising majestically against the blue skies. Sometimes, we waved at the bare-chested men on the boats as they sailed along the East River. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I can only use the excuse that we were young, daring, and adventurous because we also threw kisses at the sailors, thinking we would never see them up close and personal. Until one boat motored up near the bank. We all scampered away like rabbits as if our mamas were after us with their slippers.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkkoa5zoUXENhF9_iM78JFogDh9xyvf2_3gkdCgtY3Cni_APNkrQvXnTluNNJQvO3DC8AA7uzJRhm9JuPArcXTOyIK_4IA07wmv5Sk0OvplxnIVrjy8O0xtTPOEU3kLOzHM2X8t7_UgdCCuvKS1FIuYJ0BK9eU4Ek0FlLViO97jJluERisB3YjMw0/s960/10487589_1034926913190704_4676263571904360392_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="960" height="405" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbkkoa5zoUXENhF9_iM78JFogDh9xyvf2_3gkdCgtY3Cni_APNkrQvXnTluNNJQvO3DC8AA7uzJRhm9JuPArcXTOyIK_4IA07wmv5Sk0OvplxnIVrjy8O0xtTPOEU3kLOzHM2X8t7_UgdCCuvKS1FIuYJ0BK9eU4Ek0FlLViO97jJluERisB3YjMw0/w543-h405/10487589_1034926913190704_4676263571904360392_n.jpg" width="543" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">West Point<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">One of my fondest memories is that of Evelyn and Fe (former
Steinway and later Broadway roommates) running down from the pier at the West
Point Academy as the ferry boat sailed away back to NYC. It was my fault for
being so distracted in the art museum that I missed the bus that was supposed
to take us to the pier. At the last moment, they noticed that I did not make
it to the bus. Tess had gone ahead with the other group and was unaware of my drama. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">So, Evelyn and
Fe got off the bus and ran back to the museum to retrieve me. I thanked them
profusely for not leaving me stranded on my lonesome, hahaha! We were relieved that at least Fe had her Amex card
so we were able to take the Amtrak train back to the city. It must have been me
who clapped and shouted the loudest "<i>We're now in New York" </i>when the train conductor announced we were in Penn
Station.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Christmas Tree, as told by Fe<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Evelyn and I went to Manhattan to see the Rockefeller
Christmas tree. We took lots of pictures of a massive tree adorned with beautiful
lights. It was when we got home that we realized that it was not THE
Rockefeller tree."<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Looking back, </b>the first few years as we adjusted to our new lives were challenging, to say the least. We survived because we embraced all our experiences with gusto and with a sense of humor. Those were the days when life was simpler but exciting with new possibilities. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>In 1983, Karen Carpenter died of anorexia nervosa. </span><span>Michael Jackson's Thriller went to no. 1 on the US 200
Billboard album. </span><span>Lionel Richie's “You Are”, released in 1982, was the first song I
heard on the radio. The </span><span>MASH finale. The nursing shortage.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Forty years later, there is a nursing shortage again. I hope that those who will follow our steps will have as many laughs as we had.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was 8509 miles and 20 hours of a turbulent plane ride, but I am here to stay.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvpCRVvwyGM8rj1x_PZtWytBzSGmBeVCklxQeDoJReNB0L5jE2YBP2ns0VCLKzV0NcZNyI6EwcS6CZDYntXaY6IMWpL6h8BtccxicCmxESLZeR6BQ2UqeUVCpDLY26Vt7uQikWbFtFKoaXl4xfAvbnv3tFphWWfuOnvor9CjOHUcZ9uv8sjDMvGujJSc/s960/196666_512340962115971_2033278980_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="960" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdvpCRVvwyGM8rj1x_PZtWytBzSGmBeVCklxQeDoJReNB0L5jE2YBP2ns0VCLKzV0NcZNyI6EwcS6CZDYntXaY6IMWpL6h8BtccxicCmxESLZeR6BQ2UqeUVCpDLY26Vt7uQikWbFtFKoaXl4xfAvbnv3tFphWWfuOnvor9CjOHUcZ9uv8sjDMvGujJSc/w667-h382/196666_512340962115971_2033278980_n.jpg" width="667" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSJQ5UckcPsdLzZuNh2O9Uw227m3qXnc2yBr_oJiDVEkQWd-tDB2NPytYWz10ZvaupHRKU8itEoQUqo03hzV7v8CocDT-vliOrApm-afa8vvGUknCKnAyS9OOhZz3rbt4CN5j0AjevyBhopmaMnwOS7sc-Wd8Yf9xj6bc8-VGIw4uNC12JsUlKK2XM/s584/Note%20to%20self.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="584" data-original-width="572" height="409" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSJQ5UckcPsdLzZuNh2O9Uw227m3qXnc2yBr_oJiDVEkQWd-tDB2NPytYWz10ZvaupHRKU8itEoQUqo03hzV7v8CocDT-vliOrApm-afa8vvGUknCKnAyS9OOhZz3rbt4CN5j0AjevyBhopmaMnwOS7sc-Wd8Yf9xj6bc8-VGIw4uNC12JsUlKK2XM/w400-h409/Note%20to%20self.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #513831; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;"><a href="http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-firsts-as-nurse-in-us.html" style="color: #ff1900; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="font-size: small;">My Firsts... as a Nurse in the U.S.</span></a></h3><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/firsts">http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/firsts</a><o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><a href="https://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/2014/03/nursing-thirty-one-years-ago.html">Nursing... Thirty-One Years Ago</a><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>http://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/search/label/Coler%20Memorial%20Hospital</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #513831; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;"><a href="http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2016/08/tasty-and-reluctant-cook.html" style="color: #ff1900; text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tasty and the Reluctant Cook</span></a></h3><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><a href="http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/Reluctant%20cook">http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/Reluctant%20cook</a></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br /></o:p></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-58484734315895168462023-01-22T17:04:00.016-08:002023-01-25T15:18:51.937-08:00Joy on the Horizon<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jIOy_elPX8pkNgsr2SooCzuIDuPBJoxfR7RIzkx3rpg1B7mo4X0NBkl4IQn6NHxzIfzGKTkEdd1UhJY_S-Sqggh7I1PnWTqC8E3-8HntUJcktagKuyDKJYmqCuC7qd6jKf1Xug16jswEU4oIrIxlKtzX-VWmDKHc5CB-J2U_pEiIuMT6tL9hdbc8/s1280/325611212_2242350382634083_7867807108472272206_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="738" data-original-width="1280" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jIOy_elPX8pkNgsr2SooCzuIDuPBJoxfR7RIzkx3rpg1B7mo4X0NBkl4IQn6NHxzIfzGKTkEdd1UhJY_S-Sqggh7I1PnWTqC8E3-8HntUJcktagKuyDKJYmqCuC7qd6jKf1Xug16jswEU4oIrIxlKtzX-VWmDKHc5CB-J2U_pEiIuMT6tL9hdbc8/w568-h370/325611212_2242350382634083_7867807108472272206_n.jpg" width="568" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Just another busy shift. After a hard night's work, the staff nurses at a busy cardiac unit were preparing to head out. One of the nurses looked outside her patient's window on the 10th floor. She quickly summoned her co-worker Phillip Tubale, RN, who then snapped this breathtaking photo of the upcoming sunrise over the horizon, one of the many pictures Phillip had taken over the years, but this one is absolutely spectacular.</span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">While most of New York City was sleeping, nature was showing off. The triumphant and vibrant colors were mesmerizing. The sky over Manhattan was emblazoned fiery red near the horizon and a sliver of yellow promising the coming of the glorious sun.</span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">An instant mood-lifter. A much-needed Serotonin-booster. A joyful welcome to a new day. A million-dollar view.</span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The scientific phenomenon of the sun's rays bending through the atmospheric layers creates a gorgeous palette on the sky. The brain's orbitofrontal cortex responds to beautiful pictures of nature and helps reduce stress and anxiety. I bet my bottom dollar that sunrises brighten our dark days. :) Here comes the sun. Joy in the horizon.</span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On that particular morning, the sunrise evoked feelings of joy, and in others who commented on Facebook, the picture brought them hope. I am confident that the nurses on 10East went home feeling energized, and I hope that the awesome display outside the window also inspired the patient. </span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In the movie <i>Collateral</i>, Jamie Foxx is a taxi driver who dreams of establishing his own limousine business. Whenever he felt discouraged, he flipped his car visor and felt instantly calm and happy at the stunning picture of Maldives, with its overwater bungalows and crystal-clear lagoons.</span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It is not easy to be a nurse nowadays. The nurses' strike in major hospitals in New York was resolved, and we still wait with bated breath for the promise to become a reality. Amidst all these uncertainties, the frontliners struggle with the stressors of an increasingly demanding profession. To keep our mental well-being, we also need to seek our moments of joy.</span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At one of my classes with the nurses, I shared with them the photo album that I titled "Joy-triggers" (aside from my family):</span></span></p><ul style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><li style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pictures of sunrises and sunsets.</span></span></li><li style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fall foliage.</span></span></li><li style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My favorite singers.</span></span></li><li style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Other random images that make me smile.</span></span></li></ul><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And soon, other nurses shared their pictures, and as I hoped they would, they shared the stories that gave them joy as nurses. Some were even teary-eyed as they recounted the emotional rewards of caring for their patients, despite the healthcare challenges that they face every day.</span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Finally, I showed the nurses a picture that kept me going during the Covid-19 pandemic while working in my previous hospital as a nursing director. A family with four kids from the community came to our Emergency Department to thank the staff for our service. They brought several pies of pizza with handwritten <i>Thank You</i> cards from the children. </span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I still treasure those cards, to this day. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaWuBsf8CL7oxg0XtBd2-VMgXIvY00P3U-pjiGm1UbhEAoPbZRkCtEFCrTNydHN1jMc7cj-P-2GqETOKqbF312GKs-Nnh7osda-3DxIZfvEw6HiRlZiJJWED03Y9ZAMq1TD6vOEIPgi7QDibobi29YYuf2kuTO1aakUMWiKJz9Gpoc7pXOd7K-uRq/s800/90513054_3497683363581701_835083371968200704_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkaWuBsf8CL7oxg0XtBd2-VMgXIvY00P3U-pjiGm1UbhEAoPbZRkCtEFCrTNydHN1jMc7cj-P-2GqETOKqbF312GKs-Nnh7osda-3DxIZfvEw6HiRlZiJJWED03Y9ZAMq1TD6vOEIPgi7QDibobi29YYuf2kuTO1aakUMWiKJz9Gpoc7pXOd7K-uRq/w546-h410/90513054_3497683363581701_835083371968200704_n.jpg" width="546" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span face=""Segoe UI Historic", "Segoe UI", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="415" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KQetemT1sWc" width="500" youtube-src-id="KQetemT1sWc"></iframe></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: #fff9ee; color: #513831; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-size: medium;">My Happy Pictures: Mood-lifters</span></span></h3>
<p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2022/11/my-happy-pictures-mood-lifters.html">https://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2022/11/my-happy-pictures-mood-lifters.html</a><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-40744479928793773512022-10-10T15:50:00.009-07:002023-01-23T19:37:03.368-08:00Emergency Nurses Week 2022<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnPLB4JYMqvcTGxT7EBaBFMvqVDcuJlCQ_t3UvINyg7reBsbOs_4egsaGbK6t93rrl5SNWTaSxSSuRsAOf8bMJf-_5LS6hJ00K2nlWTlBDSbMuBZUsRHPNgCLiWk_MhOpyTtM3vKDVmtORtBYX4y_fBhlbGx7fLVNafbLy6BN0MuvuokPUNwxGrpG/s1103/NW2022blog.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="676" data-original-width="1103" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirnPLB4JYMqvcTGxT7EBaBFMvqVDcuJlCQ_t3UvINyg7reBsbOs_4egsaGbK6t93rrl5SNWTaSxSSuRsAOf8bMJf-_5LS6hJ00K2nlWTlBDSbMuBZUsRHPNgCLiWk_MhOpyTtM3vKDVmtORtBYX4y_fBhlbGx7fLVNafbLy6BN0MuvuokPUNwxGrpG/w669-h410/NW2022blog.png" width="669" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">In 1990, the first time I stepped into a city hospital
Emergency Department (ED) and saw nurses and doctors rushing by what I thought
was a frenzied scene, I almost threw up and ran away back to the chronic care
facility I came from. The noise from the monitors, the sirens wailing on the
ramp, the ringing of the telephones, and the curses from the intoxicated
patients. “<i>This is not my world,</i>” or so
I thought.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">After one perceptive nurse noticed my pale face, she tapped
my shoulder and made me sit by her side at the Ambulance Triage while I waited
for the nurse recruiter to return from an urgent phone call. She gave me a
glass of water and entertained me with funny stories about the ED. “<i>You haven’t
seen anything yet.</i>”, she teased me in her slight Indian accent, “<i>but you will
love it here. And you will never leave Emergency Nursing.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Sanni” was absolutely right. It is difficult to believe
that I survived thirty-two years in emergency nursing. And loved the
hurly-burly and exciting life of an ER nurse. And appreciated my colleagues through the years.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Like an arrow to the heart, emergency nursing lodged itself in my
heart refusing to let go despite the adversities. I loved the staff and even
craved the chaos. I stayed at Elmhurst Hospital for 21 years. Then, I worked in
other urban EDs where life was never placid, never dull, and the word “Quiet” jinxes
everything. My stay at Maimonides Medical Center and Mount Sinai Morningside
provided me with a plentitude of stories and a lifetime of memories that
strengthened me more as a nurse and as a person. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Never did it occur to me to leave the scary world of
emergency nursing. The nursing, medical and ancillary staff in the ED stood
resilient through the vagaries of demands from the patients in agony and
despair. It was a world with emotional rewards because we made a difference. My
career brought me from the bedside to several leadership positions, and I can
honestly say that I enjoyed leaving a legacy of hard work, integrity, and
fairness, I try.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then the Covid-19 pandemic wrought emotional scars that
brought me to the crossroads of my career. I almost walked away from nursing. I
was emotionally bruised from feeling helpless and staying strong was a challenge.
My body was keeping score.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">According to the book by <i>Bessel van der Kolk</i>, the effects of
trauma affect the emotions, the mind, and the physical body. He described hypervigilance
and hyperarousal as causing physical ailments manifesting in the bodies of
those who continue to suffer under stress. The constant adrenaline rush was wearing
me down. My body was definitely keeping score, and it was giving me dire
warnings to slow down, maintain my work-life balance, and do my self-care. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Life presented many trials on top of all the stressors we
suffered with Covid. Realizing that I have to love myself first, I gave myself time
to heal. My worth as a nurse and as a person is not tied to the insincere approvals
from anybody, but to the overwhelming support and love from those who matter:
the nurses whom I work with.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In 2021, I published my book “<i><b>ER Nurse: The Warrior Within</b></i>, <b>Bruised but still standing</b>". This year 2022, the Emergency Nurses Association is
formally celebrating <b>Emergency Nurses Week </b>on October 9 through October 15. It
seems surreal that this year’s theme is <b>“Standing Strong”.</b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I looked back at the pictures I collected over the thirty-two
years and I smile with pride for having worked with my sisters and brothers on
the battlefields. There are many psychological land mines in this profession. We
have survived the storms and we will continue to weather the unpredictable and
unprecedented challenges that come our way. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I cherish the camaraderie with the staff. I remember the fun
moments and the simple pleasures that lightened our load. I treasure the hugs
after a difficult day. I celebrate the lives we have saved and the thanks from
patients and families for whom we made a difference. And most of all, I honor
my fellow nurses on the front lines who inspire with their courage and
resilience against all odds.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">So, let’s continue to take care of ourselves first, find the
time to enjoy our co-workers, and rejoice for the grace and blessings of caring
for the sick and the injured. To the new nurses, especially those that I have
personally taught in a nurse residency course in my new job, please hang in
there. I hope that, many years later, you will look at these memories with
fondness in your heart and gratitude for having touched countless lives.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #cc0000;">Happy Emergency Nurses Week.</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-19914302758891013902022-05-02T21:34:00.038-07:002023-08-08T09:32:38.169-07:00Recovering from Nurse Burn-out<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9SmyXAZerGpOma-QA3nV538KkpXp6PZnFyqFP47A0KgVSdVC22Nwkl2TDuf1HXm0GCmBFQrnsVcnLi14y1TtnDj3NGx-6mGSPOnJEridWF-GyCNUnHcUGW4zZQvWhCwd1Vg4ZEpAIGkfmn5VoNerD2ps5NVVZX-Gpe2o_ouMsG_cPRAtwDmPAlH3/s722/Nurse%20praying.jpeg.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="722" data-original-width="628" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9SmyXAZerGpOma-QA3nV538KkpXp6PZnFyqFP47A0KgVSdVC22Nwkl2TDuf1HXm0GCmBFQrnsVcnLi14y1TtnDj3NGx-6mGSPOnJEridWF-GyCNUnHcUGW4zZQvWhCwd1Vg4ZEpAIGkfmn5VoNerD2ps5NVVZX-Gpe2o_ouMsG_cPRAtwDmPAlH3/w433-h498/Nurse%20praying.jpeg.png" width="433" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b>(Published in the November 2022 issue of the Journal of Emergency Nursing under the title "Finding Joy: Fighting Nurse Burnout")</b></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b><a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0099176722001842?dgcid=author">Finding Joy- JEN</a><br /></b></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">At the beginning of April 2020, the Covid-19 pandemic burnt me out. At one point, I was ready to quit nursing. I wanted to run as far away as I could, away from dying patients, away from the heartaches.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I remember waking up in bed, physically drained from a fitful sleep, emotionally shattered by the friends and the patients we lost. I debated calling out sick that morning just because I dreaded hearing the frequent overhead pages for the code team.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The Apex of this pandemic that we were preparing for came much too early. Doctors, nurses, and techs were running around responding to calls for intubations, desperately trying to race against time. We were all covered from head to toe with impervious gowns, face shields, double gloves, boots, and surgical caps; the N95 masks would later leave marks on our faces. The scars in our hearts were unseen, PTSD a real threat.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">We were protected, we assured ourselves, but how could you be confident about how safe you are when the Covid fatalities keep on rising? The whole hospital (and the whole city) was in a pandemic chokehold.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">It took a few minutes of deep breaths before I could summon the courage to rise from my bed. For the first time in my long nursing career, I was at a crossroads I never thought I could ever be at. I considered myself unshakeable. “<i>Been there, done that; nothing can ever make me turn away from Nursing,”</i> or so I thought.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">That morning, I felt burnt out, but I went to work. To fortify myself, I looked up onto the heavens and whispered, “<i>My Lord God, take charge of my life.</i>”</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">ON THE FRONTLINE</span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The New York streets were empty. The City that Never Sleeps was in total lockdown since March, and only the essential workers were allowed to travel. Along the Cross Bronx Expressway on my way to work, what was once a traffic nightmare looked more like an apocalypse with nary a car nor a truck in sight for miles on end. Times Square was a ghost town. The silence was both eerie and deafening. I felt like I was going to war, but I was scared and helpless. I hated being vulnerable.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I was on the frontline but felt like a spectator. I was not actually at the bedside giving direct care as I wanted to be. The responsibility of being a Director of Nursing in an emergency department amid a healthcare crisis was overwhelming, but not more than what the ED nurses, techs, medical providers, and other ancillary personnel had to go through. I can only imagine the enormous impact of the unending crisis on their psychological well-being when their best efforts sometimes fail.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">My nurses forbid me to go into the rooms, even to help prepare the bodies for the Morgue. They wanted me safe. I even joked that I was not that old, that I could fight alongside them. Just like in Imposter Syndrome, I felt inadequate and not quite pulling my own weight on the battlefield.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">All I could do was make rounds, check on the staff, order supplies, request the Incident Command for more staffing help, coordinate travel nursing coverage, handle family complaints, and act as a cheerleader and emotional support for the staff. <span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I followed up with my quarantined staff members for Covid exposure and illness. </span> It was difficult to hear their anxiety and I feared that they could hear the quiver in my voice, so I preferred texting to phone calls. </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I saw the patients come through the Triage Area, with no family members to sit by their bedside. </span>The patients were whisked directly to the rooms with high-flow oxygen masks to aid in their breathing. I saw patients inside the isolation room as they lay with apprehensive eyes looking at their oxygen saturation numbers on the cardiac monitors. </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I also remember the eyes of the ER staff beyond the masks and their face shields. Eyes that were sad and worried. Eyes haunted by the final goodbyes between the patients and their loved ones on the iPAD. Eyes filled with despair because of the unprecedented challenge wrought by the coronavirus onslaught. These were our darkest times.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I tried to be transparent with my information to the staff. But I grappled with what I could share. So, in my emails and our daily huddles, I talked about the nurse travelers coming in, the other non-clinical activities, and non-emergent procedures that were put on hold to deploy the staff to the ED and the other patient units. My news was upbeat and hopeful as I could possibly communicate to my already disheartened staff. I told them of the other surge capacity activities that the hospital leadership initiated to accommodate the influx of Covid-19 patients.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I did not share my concerns about the grim statistics and the dwindling supplies and equipment (since we compete with other hospitals for resources). I did not share that the Morgue was full and that there were Medical Examiner trailers on our campus. I did not confess that I wanted to quit nursing.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I did not want to stop and answer questions about my state of mind for fear that the tenuous hold on my fragile emotions would break. I did not want anyone to see me ugly-cry because of the sadness in my heart. So, I cried behind the doors.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> My priority was that my staff would feel supported so they could take care of the patients who needed their expert help. I had to be the leader that they deserved. I learned how to look confident on the outside, although I was frazzled on the inside. I could not afford to be weak.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">EPIPHANY: SELF-CARE</span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The staff needed mental PPE. We corroborated with the Mental Health Liaison psychologists, who offered counseling and other options for the team to de-stress, decompress, and start healing our broken hearts. My epiphany was that I had to do self-care. How could I help my staff when I was running on empty?</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">In my personal life, through all life’s ups and downs, I relied on my family and friends, my church, and my writing to endure. I knew I was strong enough to survive my personal travails, but I was unsure if I could remain a nurse amid the challenges that had brought down my other colleagues. I resolved to look for my joy triggers at work. I knew I had to heal myself first before I could lead others.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">One day, one nurse asked to speak with me. That nurse broke down crying as soon as we got into my office. The words of pain and despair poured out, and the repressed emotions from the past months finally tumbled out. The nurse was not suicidal but was profoundly sad and depressed. We talked for a long time, but mostly, I just listened. I called one of the mental health counselors and arranged an emergency visit. Then, we hugged, and the nurse thanked me for listening, and for being there. I am glad to report that today, that nurse is now healthy and is thriving well.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">FINDING MY JOY </span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Covid-19 would not be my downfall. Having witnessed the heroism and fortitude displayed by all healthcare personnel during these uncertain times made me realize how much I love the nursing profession. In my little way, I am privileged to have made a difference. That moment of indecision in my nursing career, that short period of burn-out, that temporary insanity is no longer. I have recovered my self-worth. I found my joy and my “why.”</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">What turned me around? What prevented me from leaving my profession? My healing came as I continued working as a nurse. I poured out my emotions into my daily journal, a catharsis to help me exorcise my negative feelings. My writing brought everything into perspective. Much as there were so many heartaches, I found comfort in our small triumphs. As a nurse, I was part of the army against this virus.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b>There were numerous things to celebrate. Let me count the reasons why we persevered:</b></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The clapping and appreciation from the hospital neighborhood and other heroes like the firemen and the cops.</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The outpouring of support from the community with unsolicited food deliveries (which both fed our bodies and our souls)</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The staff working as a team and caring for each other</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The staff comes in extra days so their peers will not work short-handed.</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The deployed staff working in unfamiliar places and doing their very best to help</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Dancing to the music “Call on Me” whenever a patient was discharged.</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Getting a Thank You from a patient and his family</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The staff rising to the challenge, despite the threat of Covid-19</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The knowledge that every single hospital employee was doing their best under the direst of circumstances</span></li><li><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The realization that we were doing God's work</span></li></ul><p></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I created a Facebook photo album of pictures from the staff to celebrate the resilient group that they are. It was a way to pay tribute and highlight this particular group on the frontlines of this war. I wanted to preserve in posterity the faces of the brave ones who came to fight the battle against Covid-19. </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">The FB photo album grew into a photo journal. It was to chronicle the moments of levity captured in-between moments of heartbreak; just before they rush back to the unit to save more lives. Frozen in time, the pictures showed the ED team taking a much-deserved break, a respite from the hard work. Just a little breather. There was a spirit of camaraderie, of having bonded as we worked together. As time went on, the staff started to SMIZE, they smiled with their eyes.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">These healthcare workers, heroes of my time, were simply inspiring.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><a href="https://fliphtml5.com/ywabu/nkyh"><span style="font-size: medium;">Covid-19 Diaries, Part 1</span></a></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://fliphtml5.com/ywabu/bmzj">Covid-19 Diaries, Part 2</a><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">NURSES’ MONTH</span></strong></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Last May 2020, the hospital managed to celebrate the Year Of The Nurse creatively despite the constraints of social distancing and face masks. We danced on the streets, gave out cookies and cupcakes, published our virtual nursing journal, enjoyed the gifts from numerous sponsors, and were treated to an aerial display from the US Air Force and the Navy. The festivities were a harbinger of hope that we would survive. The end of the pandemic would come. And then we prayed for the vaccine, our fighting chance.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> In 2022, the American Nurses Association chose the theme, “You Make A Difference.” Nurses in all disciplines and sectors truly matter as we give our patients a chance for a better life. Every Day. Our strength is rooted in determination and dedication to serving those who need help and fortified by the challenges and disruptions of the past years. </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Like every single nurse standing strong despite being bruised and shaken by our pandemic ordeal, I am still here. I am proud to be a nurse.</span></p><p></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><p></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;">HAPPY NURSES' MONTH!!!</span></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p style="background: transparent; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIMY1_0LhmoB1vJFnTCv-aFvXOwC8fsbXoivXaILXr8Kp4Vd-6VzM5MnNjnMqpqiPuzlO1hb-436wYnT6FoOV9JjnG2yN7YX-5f_5uOqMlEsdQ84P0ShieGxwUde9XVQAOQzu8JABoUd4lnPNPJTBCTWRTMUfG79Qw3BDicreigbqmd0_lLZmUNHIb/s1094/Nurses'%20Month%202022.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="410" data-original-width="1094" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIMY1_0LhmoB1vJFnTCv-aFvXOwC8fsbXoivXaILXr8Kp4Vd-6VzM5MnNjnMqpqiPuzlO1hb-436wYnT6FoOV9JjnG2yN7YX-5f_5uOqMlEsdQ84P0ShieGxwUde9XVQAOQzu8JABoUd4lnPNPJTBCTWRTMUfG79Qw3BDicreigbqmd0_lLZmUNHIb/w650-h243/Nurses'%20Month%202022.png" width="650" /></span></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="436" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qZ3C2AESRmQ" width="524" youtube-src-id="qZ3C2AESRmQ"></iframe></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-26301278243122690152022-04-02T20:11:00.018-07:002022-08-13T14:00:41.572-07:00The Trauma of Asian Hate<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqcgJA0iwpqpEukzTEJy78VO4Y-5SdmPKP8y8ZKTaCc3P8iaUTeGbi-RIEXVVsaugohFH1ISBBuZc5InXuyhs9Nfr_63d--SknD5kss54r_Sb8DNNKV_CocrBIuV_R6JX8qv5P0hBWoOVqUJ-LnCvr4tlnJbErvh7_v9_Pup5JG66d6XLs-aUMgIt/s651/asian%20hate.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="509" data-original-width="651" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqcgJA0iwpqpEukzTEJy78VO4Y-5SdmPKP8y8ZKTaCc3P8iaUTeGbi-RIEXVVsaugohFH1ISBBuZc5InXuyhs9Nfr_63d--SknD5kss54r_Sb8DNNKV_CocrBIuV_R6JX8qv5P0hBWoOVqUJ-LnCvr4tlnJbErvh7_v9_Pup5JG66d6XLs-aUMgIt/w439-h343/asian%20hate.png" width="439" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">About 20 years ago, a 70-year-old man was admitted as a Trauma Team to our hospital, after a brutal assault and robbery on the streets. The patient was a frail-looking Vietnamese man who was just collecting plastic bottles to help out his family. He tried to hold on to his money. His assailants pummeled him several times. They ran away with only $5.00 and left the man bruised with a leg fracture. He was forever traumatized.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">According to some bystanders, two teenagers were calling him racial slurs which the old man did not understand. The family, through the interpreter, tried to get NYPD to arrest the teenagers, who were known to the community, but the police dismissed the case as a simple robbery, not a hate crime. Because they were juveniles, they got away scot-free. </span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Twenty years later, Asian hate still strikes fear amongst us. Microaggressions, outright harassment, and blatant racisms exist. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">After the Covid-19 pandemic, Anti-Asian violence quadrupled last year. Assaults on Asians, especially the women and the elderly continue to rise. The deaths of </span><strong style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">Michelle Go, Christina Yuna Lee, Yao Pan Ma, and GuiYing Ma</strong><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"> are senseless and horrifying. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">How many more vulnerable individuals are harassed who look like me? How many
times will NYPD refuse to consider or even quick to dismiss the assaults as
hate crimes? How many murders have to happen before tougher measures are enforced, especially in keeping those perpetrators in jail where they belong and not released to be a menace to society again? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Many bystanders refuse to intervene for fear for their
own lives. Last week, a Filipino man was assaulted in a McDonald's restaurant. The video showed another tall and burly customer just turning his back to the violence behind him. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">And then there were heroes; good Samaritans. A selfless act of heroism that is commendable at this time when people choose not to defend a person in need. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Two weeks ago, the father-and-son duo of <b>Cazim and Louie Suljovic</b>
dared to help out an Asian woman who was being assaulted and robbed outside of
their pizza parlor (Louie's Pizzeria) in Elmhurst, Queens. Both men were
stabbed several times but they managed to bring down two of the assailants
until NYPD arrived. Both men were hospitalized at Elmhurst Hospital and
fortunately, are recovering well. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Go-Fund-Me page that was organized by a
friend has raised $696,610 (as of this writing). The money will pay for their
medical expenses and to support their workers while the restaurant is closed. The outpouring of support indicated the community's gratitude for the courage that almost cost them the Suljovics' lives.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://nypost.com/2022/03/30/father-and-son-stabbed-outside-pizza-shop-slam-nyc-crime-surge/"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://nypost.com/2022/03/30/father-and-son-stabbed-outside-pizza-shop-slam-nyc-crime-surge/</span></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">It begs the question that
many of us will probably be grappling with when faced with the same incident:
what will we do? To be honest, I am not sure. If I am physically able, I know I will not be able to ignore a plea for help. I know I will call for assistance. I hope that I have a weapon with me, or maybe I can distract an assailant, and hopefully, some able-bodied men can step up and take our community back again and prevent evil-minded people from hurting innocent people whose only "mistake" is being somebody that does not look like them.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Racism, against anyone, whatever the color of their skin, is unconscionable and inhumane.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;">GoFundMe<br /></span><p></p><div><a href="https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-the-owners-of-louies-pizza-after-a-stabbing?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=p_cp%20share-sheet&fbclid=IwAR2sKYpHI04GVJRoaFygxODMDR0r7DnU2W-l29MxDqPucgFdPLDHUdSxayY"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-the-owners-of-louies-pizza-after-a-stabbing?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=p_cp%20share-sheet&fbclid=IwAR2sKYpHI04GVJRoaFygxODMDR0r7DnU2W-l29MxDqPucgFdPLDHUdSxayY</span></a><br /></div>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-60621611319823315162021-12-30T19:49:00.023-08:002022-08-13T14:01:50.283-07:002021 Year-end Thanksgiving Reflections<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYweJZr68MQfF93JZzj1_b_u4Vo9DdVmOLtwpktGV3nwalYTVg3vdzISL-A83ylr17RLForkLok1pO4Hq2nUDx7D1DC5TGAiJ3JBlfXJNLk0dtXvJ8rUri9rk2OR0Gjekqjoz3SmDvEhpgfmmYNFtYbwXyHUCVsPma7Fx7Wo5j7HLo2N4uDViiy7H7=s840" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="568" data-original-width="840" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhYweJZr68MQfF93JZzj1_b_u4Vo9DdVmOLtwpktGV3nwalYTVg3vdzISL-A83ylr17RLForkLok1pO4Hq2nUDx7D1DC5TGAiJ3JBlfXJNLk0dtXvJ8rUri9rk2OR0Gjekqjoz3SmDvEhpgfmmYNFtYbwXyHUCVsPma7Fx7Wo5j7HLo2N4uDViiy7H7=w556-h375" width="556" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">The past year affected all of us in immeasurable ways. What began as a promise of recovery from the horrors of 2020 with the Covid-19 vaccine fizzled out, like a New Year’s Eve sparkler dying out. In January 2021, I was hopeful that I would be able to travel soon to see my family in the Philippines. It was not to be. The US is on its 5th Covid wave with Omicron threatening to infect one and all.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As I prepared for our church’s Year-end Thanksgiving for 2021, I cleared my mind in grateful reflection. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can proudly say that I am blessed. Last Dec. 25-26, the Church of Christ (Iglesia ni Cristo) members celebrated our year-end Thanksgiving in person, instead of on Webex as we did last year. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">INC Hymn #134</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh my Father, I now deeply meditate<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">On the blessings, You give day by day<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Truly You have never failed to care for me<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">And You provide my every need<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">It is my duty, Lord, to praise and worship You.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Ever worshipping your name faithfully;<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">It is my duty, Lord, to offer all to You<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Oh, the very life You give to me.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Despite this year being still challenging in many other ways, there is still so much to be thankful for.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"></p><ul><li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">The Gift of Life</span></b></li><li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Family and friends</span></b></li><li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Work</span></b></li><li><b><span style="font-size: medium;">My new book</span></b></li></ul><span style="font-size: medium;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">For all these, I am thankful.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">I am grateful to be an educator and a nurse leader.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">When I left my previous job and started another journey, I was extremely gratified by the overwhelming support and love from my nursing staff, as well as all those who I have worked with. Their words are precious to me and have given me strength, inspiration, and determination. Their validation of my work meant to me more than I can ever express. I will forever hold them close to my heart. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I would like to share some of their thoughts:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<i>You have been an exemplary role model for me. Many times over the past year, I have felt overwhelmed and hapless. You were always available to listen to our complaints- even when you knew that there was nothing you could do. You displayed continuous optimism, even in the midst of what seemed like a never-ending nightmare during the COVID peak last year. You are the primary reason that I kept coming back to work and picking up extra shifts when I could. Thank you for that.<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">You will be the standard that I will compare others to in the future. I hope that wherever you go, you will continue to show others the light when it seems so dark.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">“Thank you for everything you have done for me and the department. You were with us every day fighting on the frontlines as we fought our first pandemic. Your encouragement and support helped me get out of bed in the morning to come to work. Although I was scared every day coming to work while pregnant, I always knew you were there to support me. For that, I will always be grateful.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">You always encouraged us to be the best version of ourselves and to further our education. I always enjoyed your CEN questions in your weekly email, an email I looked forward to. I appreciated your transparency on department initiatives and staffing. I always knew you were fighting for us every day. You were an extraordinary leader and I hope one day I can strive to be a leader like you."<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">“I feel so lucky to have had you throughout the pandemic, We could not have done it without you.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>"Please </i><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><i>know
how grateful I am that we had you as our leader, especially this past year. I
will never forget you."</i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">New nurses: passing the torch</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Today was the last day of class in 2021 for the new graduate nurses in the nursing residency program that I was consulting with. Knowing the challenges that they will be facing as they start their career as ER nurses, I shared with them how I survived the psychological land mines in a complicated but emotionally rewarding profession. In a way, I felt I was passing the torch and I felt compelled to encourage them as much as I could.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gratitude journal. Finding my joy. Work-life balance. Self-care. Knowing that I made a difference. Sharing my love of nursing. Grateful meditation. All these fortified me and kept me standing through the years. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I asked the new nurses to reflect on what things they are grateful for. They recounted those special moments when patients thanked them for their compassionate care. Some even said that even if their patients forgot to thank them at times, they feel empowered to have made a difference in their patients' lives. It was an emotional exercise for all of us, and I tried to hold back my tears. I am proud of them.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">They ALL expressed their gratitude for the opportunity to serve as a nurse, despite this Omicron threat and the short-staffing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then they thanked all the other instructors and me for guiding them and preparing them for this career. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hearing the words of praise from these new nurses was a gift I didn't know I needed to hear. </span></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Here comes 2022. Happy New Year, everyone. Be safe. God bless.</b><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYfiXti93xQPBQDRc2mFW8LRHEp35IdoQfPQPCMEhuPi3uehrrWpJdfgmyxXiC_j7pZZeTlhDfxnZA4ctw7u7KsRNxsxQKRP13ydJYzrlkQgwEwEDWtbVf9z1yBNPj4y7c_nyNaUwyFcuynstvM0g300M_MJNMxlvdUeVdqSdbtl9GfE6J00EMaMdk=s960" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYfiXti93xQPBQDRc2mFW8LRHEp35IdoQfPQPCMEhuPi3uehrrWpJdfgmyxXiC_j7pZZeTlhDfxnZA4ctw7u7KsRNxsxQKRP13ydJYzrlkQgwEwEDWtbVf9z1yBNPj4y7c_nyNaUwyFcuynstvM0g300M_MJNMxlvdUeVdqSdbtl9GfE6J00EMaMdk=w391-h391" width="391" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="313" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/k_1bDkN2cwI" width="376" youtube-src-id="k_1bDkN2cwI"></iframe></div><br /><p></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-17139410568343961812021-10-03T19:24:00.009-07:002022-08-13T14:02:50.485-07:00Tired of Covid<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTTPtOCDivjFQN5Tdv-NRtqlK2OVKnu_Cc_VUtQWw7zH1HvsDCGpbhcpqQEhJ_AXCcxDV3MsAOZJgT6z5DGVIAiCw_z_OicPDHfReX-TFoyWnqM2SYsFjtJh3JXuOnmWAWixIzm9AyEM/s384/mh1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="261" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigTTPtOCDivjFQN5Tdv-NRtqlK2OVKnu_Cc_VUtQWw7zH1HvsDCGpbhcpqQEhJ_AXCcxDV3MsAOZJgT6z5DGVIAiCw_z_OicPDHfReX-TFoyWnqM2SYsFjtJh3JXuOnmWAWixIzm9AyEM/w265-h389/mh1.png" width="265" /></a></div><p></p><p><br /></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">My nurse-friend in Florida called me in tears. She was overwhelmed.</span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></span></p><p style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: #0e101a; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">“</span><em style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">I am tired. I am tired of seeing so many patients die. I see the fear in their eyes as they gasp for air, as they start calling for their loved ones. And I am helpless. The Covid patients keep coming.</em><span data-preserver-spaces="true" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">” she said with a sigh. The sound of exhaustion.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I remember back in April last year when I heard the same
words from my nursing staff in the ED. New York was the epicenter then. I could only listen as they poured their
hearts out. I was helpless as my nurses broke down in tears. These were strong
nurses who’ve seen them all, but how could you remain stoic when patients die
in horrifying numbers? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I swallowed my own fears because my staff needed me to
be strong for them. I could only offer
my shoulders to cry on. I could only listen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I have referred many of my staff to psychologists. I gave
them some time off to unwind and be with their family and friends.
So that they can be healthy, physically, emotionally, and mentally. In these tough times, to survive, I actively sought my moments of joy. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Somehow, through our shared grief for those we lost, we
found the strength to keep moving on. The staff bonded over the feasts of donated
food. We enjoyed the 7pm clapping from our community and the firemen and the police.
We danced when a Covid-19 patient was discharged. We cheered when the Covid
numbers started to decrease. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Last December, I felt overjoyed when I received my first
dose of the Pfizer vaccine. I was hopeful that the end is in sight. I was
certain that every single person who went through the nightmarish pandemic
would embrace the vaccine as I did. I prayed that in a few months, I would
finally be able to travel and see my mom after two years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">But the promise of freedom from masks did not come. We are
in the 4th surge of Covid and who knows how many more variants will there be?
Here in New York, it is not as intense as it was last year, but other states
are reporting of hospitals overwhelmed by sick patients, mostly unvaccinated. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
cannot comprehend the resistance against the vaccines, I am frustrated that the
other countries around the world remain in the chokehold of this pandemic because
they do not get the vaccines that others have declined. I am heartbroken that
I have not seen my mother in two years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is real among healthcare workers. Every sniffle, body
ache, and headache cause concern. Fever and cough trigger anxiety attacks. The angst is a visceral reaction that conjures
images of intubation. For a nurse who has seen the worst, it is traumatic to envision oneself going through the same thing.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">There is a staffing shortage. The healthcare staff is tired and exhausted. The vaccine mandate is
divisive and controversial. How do you balance freedom of choice versus public health safety? In my honest opinion, it is necessary and maybe the only way we can get out of this torture. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Just a few days ago, I heard of a friend in the Philippines
who died of Covid-19. When will this nightmare end?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-55240421554140266452021-03-11T19:02:00.010-08:002022-08-13T14:04:04.546-07:00Pandemic Reflection: One Year Later<p><br /> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AgTqN5VEGmKaQvjBYclF8Xjpic_bYt_6Q8ReZcFCkqn7IXxfWAFjxeG07FkzilLHKs7b9Av6Bv1BR2C6aFs4djBVLj4885Rk_l6nph0LqOW-bpM0fvzNYxPQJzNrKEyDZyIcakjs32E/s550/who.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="427" data-original-width="550" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AgTqN5VEGmKaQvjBYclF8Xjpic_bYt_6Q8ReZcFCkqn7IXxfWAFjxeG07FkzilLHKs7b9Av6Bv1BR2C6aFs4djBVLj4885Rk_l6nph0LqOW-bpM0fvzNYxPQJzNrKEyDZyIcakjs32E/w534-h412/who.jpg" width="534" /></a></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">March 11, 2021-</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Today is a moment of reflection for all of us. I wrote this in my journal, not knowing that Covid would still persist as a menace a year later. The loss of lives is still staggering and so emotional. Two more losses, one was an agency companion/sitter at work and another a church member in the prime of her life. When will this end? I did not expect to hear sad news so close to home when we're almost on the home stretch.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Today, we gathered in the Resus Room to pay respects and
remember our co-worker. Although she was not an MSM employee, we claimed her
as our own because she was assigned to the ED for 4 years. June was an agency
employee sent to watch patients who were emotionally disturbed, suicidal or
patients who are Fall and elopement risks. It was not an easy job; the patients
were challenging, but she persevered and tried to help as much as they could when she was sometimes sick herself.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The room was filled with nurses, techs, and other ancillary
workers. It started slow but soon the staff was sharing their memories of her.
The chaplain led us in prayer. It was difficult to hold back the tears because
I did not think that one year later, we would still be mourning the deaths of
people we know. I didn't know that I needed the hug. The staff had a good cry then we dried our tears as we went
back to work.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">This second wave of Covid was not as intense as the first
wave, but what is unrelenting is the slow road to recovery. Maybe it is our
impatience to return back to normal. Maybe it's the frustration that people
still die, despite everything we have learned.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">One year later, my son is still safe and we have been indulging in our food trips, mask, and all. My 90 y/o mom is socially distanced in our home, with all her needs catered to by my family. We did her birthday celebration via Zoom on February 14th. And I had my vaccine.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In reflection, I realized that coming out of this terrible
period is doable. There is light at the end of this tunnel. We have to take
care of ourselves, still seek those things that give joy to our lives, hold on
for those moments of triumph, celebrate the lives we have saved, give thanks
for the science of the vaccine, and rejoice for the grace and blessings of
having survived through it all. Simply put, just keep on hanging in there. I
look forward to the future of hope.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="xmsonormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Alicia Keys’ “Good Job” By
One Voice Children’s Choir</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ighFo0i0nrA" width="320" youtube-src-id="ighFo0i0nrA"></iframe></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-45866997428129877562020-12-31T10:28:00.022-08:002022-08-13T14:06:19.974-07:00ED nursing: In the Year 2030, Not another 2020<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDw3BSTxabMrq_4G9dlWWL1YyGhvNGhe4vgsbiDEfVZ9CUog49b-5boPEs4NZ7Nn_-cfJ6fKhtCuozbeg544O3HNch9TBSt0wleJ0QfduGNQMZi3wGqk4SnJgetsQvYmc_SAQ9kxusH4/s837/2030.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="614" data-original-width="837" height="294" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBDw3BSTxabMrq_4G9dlWWL1YyGhvNGhe4vgsbiDEfVZ9CUog49b-5boPEs4NZ7Nn_-cfJ6fKhtCuozbeg544O3HNch9TBSt0wleJ0QfduGNQMZi3wGqk4SnJgetsQvYmc_SAQ9kxusH4/w401-h294/2030.png" width="401" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">January 8, 2030- Into the Future</span></b><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Nurse Jess entered the Emergency Department with her
trademark walk, hopping with every other step, swinging her arms as she went
straight to the Charge Nurse Station. As the Director of Nursing, she could
have just looked at the dashboard on her Mango watch/minicomputer/phone to see
the unit metrics. But she likes being in the middle of the action. Besides, her
usually unflappable charge nurse Mae seemed a little bit frazzled as she
answered her Comdevice, and mumbled something about <i>“Remember 2020”.</i><o:p></o:p></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jess entered the ED where she had been a nurse for 20 years,
the last two years as the much-respected nursing director.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally, they are in the new ED wing, a
state-of-the-art facility. Thanks to the generosity of the family of a
prominent New York trillionaire. The 78-year-old man came in with a broken
femur after a nasty fall but was so impressed by the efficiency of the ED
staff before he was whisked to the OR. He lingered on just in time to say his
goodbyes to his family, but he made them promise to build a new ER. And the
family donated billions of dollars to create an ED well-suited to meet the demands
of a new Covid19-like crisis. No more hallway patients, every patient in their own private room with some amenities like a tv, electronic patient tracker, and a nurse-call device.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jess outfitted in the hospital-mandated IRC (Infection
Repellent Clothing) for this new disease outbreak from
Texas. The Tyvek 3<sup>rd</sup> edition suit is very light with its own
breathing apparatus the size of her hand. Her face shield mask is clear and
does not fog nor suffocate. The plastic material covers her entire face and
connects to the Tyvek suit itself. Thankfully, this new disease is not anywhere
as virulent and as overwhelming as COVID-19. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A shudder went through Jess’ body as she
remembered the year 2020, the Year of the Nurse which nobody ever anticipated
to turn out to be a nightmare year for every healthcare worker. In the year
2030, it looks like they’re in a repeat of 2020.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Last month, ten years ago was a distant memory, relegated to
the hospital archives. Right after the nth ZoomstatCom meeting with the Infection
Control Czar last week, the hospital leadership went into UltraPreparedness/Response Mode. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Incident Commander declared in his
authoritative voice, <i>“We are now in ICS level 2 and we expect to be in Level 3 soon.”</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">After the meeting, she scrolled back on her personal online blog
to look for her Covid Diaries. In 2020, the ED was declared an endemic area.
Ground Zero or more accurately, the war zone, for the hospital as the patients came in gasping for breath and the ED staff rushed in to fight for the patients to survive. The
staff heroically stepped up to the plate, buried their emotions, and proceeded
to take care of the patients. It was a whole year unlike any other that no one in
his right mind would ever want to go back to. In one of the Covid-19 memes, The “Back
to the Future” Emmett Brown admonished Marty McFly not to ever go to 2020 with
his time travel machine.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhAFsL05DwnZW_GFoqzWGSJoEgipl4Mfnw0jyrBjICBLdFFblEGUBXQo6pYo7h0uPeShcJqr_KkVGtBfSnH74IfXDR4Gz88dl135xJPGtvv3EEb8tztYE3XSn_fyPoTiF8wD1GFvH_2M/s597/DBDMa.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="597" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkhAFsL05DwnZW_GFoqzWGSJoEgipl4Mfnw0jyrBjICBLdFFblEGUBXQo6pYo7h0uPeShcJqr_KkVGtBfSnH74IfXDR4Gz88dl135xJPGtvv3EEb8tztYE3XSn_fyPoTiF8wD1GFvH_2M/s320/DBDMa.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jess did not have to peruse the blog to relive the memories.
Her heart ached in remembrance. She thinks she had some form of PTSD from that
event, just like some of her colleagues. Thankfully, she was able to draw
strength from her family and friends, as well as from her ED work family. Going
through Covid hell proved how resilient healthcare workers are.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>“Thank God, you’re here!”</i>, Mae uttered in relief. She was
still in nursing school when Covid-19 exploded. She heard terror stories from
all the senior nurses, but now, her wild-eyed look resembled what Jess' 2020
nurses looked like. There were still several of those bad-ass nurses around; their eyes are calmer now, their experience during the Covid war gave them steel of nerves, and today, they serve as inspiration to their younger colleagues.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jess swallowed her fear and made sure her smile reached her
eyes above her mask. As the nursing director, she had to be a tower of strength,<a name="_Hlk60310483"> </a>a source of truth, a comforting presence, and a
purveyor of hope. Even if she felt a little apprehension as she saw the electronic
dashboard in the Nurses' station with the throughput metrics and unit statuses highlighted
in Red. It has not changed through the years, we still use the Red Surge as a common language that the ED is in crisis.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dr. Johnson sauntered to the Nurses’ station. Like Jess,
Brad experienced Covid-19. He wore his veteran status with honor, which in a
way, comforted his fellow doctors. Jess and Brad are ten years older now, wiser and toughened by their experience. Jess consulted with Brad and they decided to
call a unit huddle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mae’s voice crackled over the staff’s Communication devices
that were clipped on their scrubs. Except for those currently involved in a
patient’s care, most of the unit staff gathered in the 5-bedded Resuscitation
room. Unable to maintain physical distancing, the nurses, doctors, techs,
pharmacists, registrars, environmental services members, transporters,
respiratory therapists, case managers, and even the paramedics attended the
huddle.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Brad addressed the whole staff, <i>“Ladies and gentlemen, we
are at this point of declaring the ED as an endemic unit. Meaning, you will
have to be in full PPE when you enter the ED door. Don’t give me this crap that
you cannot breathe because our masks are a hundred times more comfortable than we
have in 2020. We cannot afford to have some of you out sick. Use your PPE”.</i><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jess addressed the staff. Knowing that everyone is compliant
with the Covid and flu vaccine, she proceeded to tell the staff that another similar
mRNA vaccine is being tested by the scientists. There will be some protection
from the Covid vaccine, but this new vaccine will be specifically targeting
this new disease called Joslin30. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jess reviewed the surge and escalation protocol. Although
the NEDOCs score is high, all the patients are secured in their private rooms,
most of which are with negative pressure. The patients have their own
sophisticated TeleFam monitors to connect with their families remotely. Visiting
hours were suspended except for special circumstances. The newly-reorganized CDC
Fauci organization issued a much-vetted Joslin30 treatment algorithm which is
immediately started in the ED. The point-of-care Joslin30 screening test is
top-of-the-line accurate with a one-minute result time. Additional medical and
nursing staff reinforcement from the National Medical Guard will be in the ED
in two days. Supplies and equipment, and most importantly the ventilators are
well-stocked. Three additional hospital units are being prepared for additional
patients and will be available in a few hours.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As Jess relayed all the updates, she could see the staff
visibly breathing in relief. They needed to hear the updates; needed to hear that no patients have died so far, and that patients are responding to the aggressive drug cocktail. Jess herself believed that the world is much better prepared for this new challenge. They clapped at the end of Jess’ summary of the ED
status. She brought them hope and confidence that this crisis will soon pass.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><span style="font-size: medium;">“This is 2030, not a repeat of 2020. This time, we have an
intelligent and responsible President who does not quarrel with her own
Infection Control chief. This time, the science we trusted in 2020 is bringing us a new vaccine soon. This time, the government officials are on the same page. This time, our hospital is prepared for all eventualities. This time, we
will get through this in just a month or so. Thank God, this is not 2020.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i><b><br /></b></i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4HeF0GG5aXbwG9EcJrOZIZQ9w4WlDjnVah05y5J-vFpkMbr-PiyoXf4U9XfjtZEwJQVWzkJ6m99Tb9f0EusxQfrj-iGug-ECCmfCTz14tFVCH_0s5m6JCZBJKMvtSI5Mafp6iGknDXE/s2048/xm1p8-dlkbg-q6f1v.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV4HeF0GG5aXbwG9EcJrOZIZQ9w4WlDjnVah05y5J-vFpkMbr-PiyoXf4U9XfjtZEwJQVWzkJ6m99Tb9f0EusxQfrj-iGug-ECCmfCTz14tFVCH_0s5m6JCZBJKMvtSI5Mafp6iGknDXE/w399-h399/xm1p8-dlkbg-q6f1v.jpg" width="399" /></a></i></div><i><br /><b><br /></b></i><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><i><b> </b></i></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p></div>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-60611371225160718922020-10-21T08:54:00.069-07:002022-08-13T14:07:56.175-07:00ED Nursing Stories: Rising to the Covid-19 Challenge<p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYdEqgmE13ZGoHWU3FBAEQkdbGPf2kQwWUaPHjrrY640OnxasNbQZHsItX8e3bc3E5MLvpb8VRLaRmre3qVz4htarrX6mQDd16LT6z191FfauP56N0KNPzIYhh8s1BuV38VzR-i0ZQoeQ/s540/Photojournal.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="282" data-original-width="540" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYdEqgmE13ZGoHWU3FBAEQkdbGPf2kQwWUaPHjrrY640OnxasNbQZHsItX8e3bc3E5MLvpb8VRLaRmre3qVz4htarrX6mQDd16LT6z191FfauP56N0KNPzIYhh8s1BuV38VzR-i0ZQoeQ/w441-h230/Photojournal.jpg" width="441" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is the Virtual ED Nursing Photo journal in reflection
of our Covid-19 journey at Mount Sinai Morningside Emergency Department. I am
certain that the sentiments will resonate with everyone on the front lines. The
fears of the unknown transcend disciplines, titles, and even geography.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The ED photo album started as a collection of pictures, some
submitted by those very same nurses in the direct line of fire, the ones who
are at the bedside, in the front lines. I assume that these pictures were made
in defiance, as well as an assurance to ourselves, that this too will pass. We
were optimistic that these pictures will someday be just the chronicle of that
unforgettable moment in our nursing lives. Who knows, we might just end up in
the archives.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Somehow, this became a journal of our collective experience
during the pandemic. I collected some of my nurses' personal reflections; I
understand their need to share, to relieve their hearts of the burden.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">For me, Journaling is a coping mechanism, it puts things in
perspective, and it slows things down to manageable parts. It is a therapeutic
activity to drain the brain of stressful recollections. Maybe, when it's
written on paper, the pain loses its intensity, and it would not be as horrible.
Writing eases my heartache.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">While recording our anxieties, we were able to reflect on
the special opportunity we have to serve those who are vulnerable. We found our
joy and purpose in being valuable members of the healthcare team. So, this is
also a gratitude journal. In the darkness brought by this scourge, the nurses,
and of course, the rest of the healthcare team, emerge triumphant.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is one department's journey in pictures, reflections of
individual and the ED team strengths. Moments of levity are captured in-between
moments of heartbreak. This photo journal captures our resilience against
adversity.</span></p><p><span face="Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-size: medium;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">In this Covid-19 crisis, ER nurses put their fears aside and
placed their patients front and center. We remain resilient despite the
challenges of this pandemic. On this Year of the Nurse 2020, of a time that
even Florence Nightingale on her 100th birthday would have given us her seal of
approval. I am never more proud to be an ER nurse.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p><span face="Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://online.fliphtml5.com/ywabu/aene/#p=1"><b>ED Nursing Stories</b></a><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-3137572426678835562020-04-19T17:16:00.023-07:002023-04-27T19:01:55.197-07:00COVID-19 Diary: The Heartaches and the Small Victories<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpefXNel3Xqj_ee4JVXKxFVN9_HzJBZ-dXBMMAwOHpXxsOOk-0t3tSju8n-Vz6SxaTddvlqJEeEDL1_JZ6l5Rw08oF3zplToCU2e45RM5IAItMK2240kks8Obt9g6uFYDbt4j3zc5km5k/s1600/blog.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="378" data-original-width="842" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpefXNel3Xqj_ee4JVXKxFVN9_HzJBZ-dXBMMAwOHpXxsOOk-0t3tSju8n-Vz6SxaTddvlqJEeEDL1_JZ6l5Rw08oF3zplToCU2e45RM5IAItMK2240kks8Obt9g6uFYDbt4j3zc5km5k/s640/blog.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>This is not just my story. This is also a snapshot of my department's journey through the horrors of a pandemic, with all the heartaches and the small victories. Nobody comes out of this war unscathed. </b><br />
<br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">January 1, 2020</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">This will be a good year. This is the Year of the Nurse.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<b>January 25- </b><br />
China is far away; the danger of the coronavirus that devastated Wuhan is far away. (Or so, I thought). The hospital cautions us to prepare but there is a general sense that it’s just like the FLU. The CDC says that the Flu killed more people than the Wuhan virus. I thought we were safe here in America. Hey, even POTUS downplayed Wuhan. Life goes on.<br />
<br />
<b>February 17-</b><br />
The Novel coronavirus is here. The DOH, CDC, and WHO issued their guidelines. At triage, get the travel history, check. Ask the patient if he has a cough, fever, or upper respiratory symptoms, check. If they’re elderly, double-check. Mask yourself and mask the patient. Isolate. The Infection Control staff is overseeing our response. The algorithm was distributed to the staff. We got this.<br />
<br />
<b>February 28-</b><br />
We received about three patients with fevers, cough, and positive travel history and they were just mildly sick. It’s not bad, I assured myself, I assured my staff. Who was I kidding? I was scared. <br />
<br />
<b>March 8- </b><br />
What’s going on? The hospital is full-on in Incident Command mode. There is a frenzy of activities; meetings after meetings. Don and doff training. Write the standard work for Triage. Plan for Surge capacity. Look for alternate places. I requested more RN travelers and techs to help us out during the apex of the COVID patients. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">The projection was that we have about 3 weeks before the patients who need the ventilators. Three more weeks to get the extra staffing and supplies. We need more N95s. I was assured that we have enough on stock but we might have to consider conserving the masks because the public is hoarding those masks. Hello? Mr. Q. Public, you are depriving the healthcare workers of the much-needed masks.<br />
<br />
Oh, don’t forget to buy toilet paper. The Chinese factories are not manufacturing toilet paper anymore. The grocery shelves are bare while eBay sells the now-precious toilet paper at ridiculously illegal exorbitant prices. Hmmm, maybe buy a bidet?<br />
<br />
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmB_ZC9Krn0k_t9BR13y8_5yfvDL1c8vnUKTUe4H57XHF96aXJVdW5_poTv7gEtI-pL9wwHMz2Uc0PoHfZhn133yZmwVfGxH22r7TkVhIehuWSePKFJEbwRlc3SJlm9lvtfsp1TLNWrag/s1600/93542464_3561279827222054_630193370156761088_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-h94eNIAb64k/Xpz-
J9CWgkI/AAAAAAAACsc/1Uv8BvGJXDkS4q4b3p_YzMq-xNSIPFKXgCNcBGAsYHQ/s400/93542464_3561279827222054_630193370156761088_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Photographer- unknown</i><br />
<br />
<b>March 11-</b><br />
The World Health Organization has declared COVID-19 a pandemic. Now reaching global proportions affecting 114 countries. The news brought a frisson of fear down my spine. I texted my family in the Philippines and instructed them to stay at home, to shelter in place, to keep my 89 y/o mother safe. I called my son who lives two towns away from me. I made him promise that he will work from home, that he should never leave without a mask, and that he should always wash his hands, He laughed at me indulgently and reminded me that he used to work in a research lab and that he, of all people, knows how to thoroughly wash his hands. He knows he has to self-distance and wear his mask every time he goes out. When we Face-timed, he jokingly rolled his eyes at me. He knows I'm just being a mom.<br />
<br />
</span><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>March 12- </b>Fear. It is scary. Like going to the battlefield. We wonder,
"Are we doing this right? Are we
using the right PPE? Are we handwashing long enough?"</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">And yet we go to work. Every day. Despite our fears.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
</div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>March 13-</b><br />
It is good to step away from the hectic COVID-19 prep and planning activities (even for just a few minutes) to celebrate our Clark 8 Acute Behavioral Unit staff with a “<i>Caught for being Great</i>” citation from the amazing Physical Therapy team. As per the PT leaders Alicia and Helen, the Mount Sinai Morningside Clark 8 staff took the initiative to reach out to PT to borrow the patient lift device and get themselves trained on a machine that they never used in their unit before. The staff was so engaged and so receptive to learning new techniques to improve their disabled patient's experience.<br />
<br />
<b>March 14-</b><br />
My email to the nursing staff:<br />
<i>I know that there is not much we can say as we go through this COVID-19 crisis together. What I know is that the ED staff continues to give their very best despite the anxiety of the unknown. The emergency department itself can be chaotic and stressful. This is the nature of our work, and right now, your minds are probably spinning with the barrage of inservice, instructions, and simply the demands of being on the frontlines in this war. I just want to thank you for your amazing hard work and resilience. Thank you, thank you. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to e-mail or call us (Anthony, Cynthia, Lauren, and I- even if you just want to vent). FYI, all the COVID-19 testing for our admitted PUI patients came back NEGATIVE, including the last one who went to the ICU (WR, 35 y/o male).<br />
<br />
We are trying our very best to mitigate our current circumstances and ease your workload during surges:<br />
1. We are in the midst of finding alternate sites to move those who are Worried Well and those with mild symptoms that can be treated and released quickly. We may be using the Heal Center and Clark 9 with non-ED staff.<br />
2. This weekend, we are piloting the use of the Ambulatory Care Clinic to refer the ESI 4-5 patients to decant the ED, thankfully with their own Ambulatory Care staff.<br />
3. For admitted patients, more Isolation rooms were created in 7West and soon in 7E ICU for critical care surges.<br />
<br />
What we ask of you is for you to be nice to each other. Watch each other’s back and use the buddy system when you’re donning and doffing. If you can come in for OT, please let us know, even if just to relieve for breaks. More than ever, we need you to come to work. And because we need to care for our own selves, try to Plan Your Joy. We’re in this together.</i><br />
<br />
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZI3hH-1BqsSbm6S8yU186PEC4pnszvPAaQVAZd93Kpfj3F1WfpuLrKuccGOiiK3hEehmVAN5MNbqfYONMjTlzOjy7tI3h7yxurfonvB8UQ4fQRDAzlkxFq4Y1lvhU3ioyfAinTNwxdxk/s1600/titanic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="284" data-original-width="445" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZI3hH-1BqsSbm6S8yU186PEC4pnszvPAaQVAZd93Kpfj3F1WfpuLrKuccGOiiK3hEehmVAN5MNbqfYONMjTlzOjy7tI3h7yxurfonvB8UQ4fQRDAzlkxFq4Y1lvhU3ioyfAinTNwxdxk/s400/titanic.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>March 15-</b><br />
It’s a Saturday spent at work. The ED is getting overcrowded with patients worried about their symptoms, we have the worried wells, but there are more patients coming with respiratory distress. We opened the ambulatory clinic on the second floor with the physician assistants and ambulatory clinic staff seeing those with mild-acuity symptoms. The ED leadership had a nice plan on how we will surge up. We meant to start allocating some rooms for COVID patients in the Main ED for Phase 1, then will advance to Phase 2 with additional rooms that can hold the COVID patients, then Phase 3 using Peds and Eval. It’s only Saturday and we’re already in Phase 2. Out of the 30 boarders in the ED, only two were not COVID. Now we see patients presenting with abdominal pains and testing positive for COVID.<br />
<br />
It was a long tiring day. I ordered pizza for the staff, and they all came running to the conference room. I sat down to eat my ham with pineapple pizza pie but did not have the strength to finish the whole thing. I had the feeling that things are going to get worse, then worst before it becomes better. May God bless us all.<br />
<br />
<b>March 16-</b><br />
<br />
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-in6-T2t3zIOk9MlcelZCb_cgXetHjtOaP-vtZKd0XNUv6nSiXJ_S6TRbjgDDL5UaQuLvBDci8iTKo6mdh0WvIKjCn2_-kA-W1b7GvrTeDN38JZOQv8ARZM4uU448JxbiQx9P77smK0/s1600/90513054_3497683363581701_835083371968200704_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-in6-T2t3zIOk9MlcelZCb_cgXetHjtOaP-vtZKd0XNUv6nSiXJ_S6TRbjgDDL5UaQuLvBDci8iTKo6mdh0WvIKjCn2_-kA-W1b7GvrTeDN38JZOQv8ARZM4uU448JxbiQx9P77smK0/s320/90513054_3497683363581701_835083371968200704_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Wow! A family with 4 kids from the community came to the Mount Sinai Morningside ED to thank the staff for our service during this COVID-19 pandemic. They brought several pies of pizza with handwritten Thank You cards from the kids. The ED staff works hard every single day but has been totally amazing these past weeks amidst the fear and uncertainty. Being on the front lines can be scary, but this gesture really warmed my heart. I am so glad that the staff is recognized for a job well done. I had my Joy late this afternoon after a full, exhausting day.<br />
<br />
<b>March 17- </b><br />
I'm supposed to be off today but have been on the phone since 630am with back-to-back conference calls. Our hospital President just mentioned our ED with a special mention of my LinkedIn post about community appreciation.<br />
<br />
<b>March 18- </b><br />
It’s my youngest sister’s birthday party but we cannot celebrate at our favorite restaurant. So, I just wrote on FB: “You are loved by everyone because you have a generous heart. Who would think that a grumpy little kid will grow up to be so lovable (a little less grumpy, hahaha)? We'll get take-out food, as everybody else shelters at home. I took the day off (although still working at home). At least, we have toilet paper, woohoo!!!”<br />
<br />
<b>March 19-</b><br />
It was a heartbreaking day. We lost three patients in the ED today due to COVID. Their chest X-rays were horrible, "bilateral confluent diffuse airspace opacities". The doctors tried high-flow oxygen, then BiPAP. But the patients were tiring out. They needed the ventilators to give them time to marshall their immunological response to the virus. It was frightening to witness the patients gasp for breath. The nurses, the doctors, and technicians were the front-line staff who managed to conquer their fears. Equipped with their personal protective equipment (PPE) of gowns, face shields, goggles, and N95 masks, they ran towards the patients, reminiscent of how the firemen and EMS crews ran toward the World Trade Center buildings on 9/11.<br />
<br />
The ED was full, NEDOCs score was in the 160s with 40 boarders and five waiting for ICU beds. There was a sense of urgency as we tried to arrange for transfers to the floors. I made several calls to Admitting office. <i>Where are the beds?</i> I was frustrated but there was not much we can do until the beds open up upstairs. The Incident Command Center was directing the storm of activities to support the hospital operations and ensure we have enough PPE. Although we are in scary times, I felt secure in the knowledge that the hospital leadership was truly responsive to our needs.<br />
<br />
<b>March 20-</b><br />
I am the nursing director but I do not do direct bedside care like these brave men and women do. But I sure do my damn best to support them as best as I can do. I fight my own battles to secure more staff, equipment, and supplies. I spend 10-12 hours in the hospital five days a week, and then we’re expected to be on call for any emergencies. The nursing directors were just told that we have to do the Incident Management huddles at 830am even on Saturdays and Sundays. Even with all of these, it will certainly not compare with the higher risk that the bedside staff faces every single day. <br />
<br />
I am both proud of and worried for all the direct care providers, nurses, doctors, techs, and respiratory therapists. Both the frontliners and the last recourse. They deserve all the glory and all the tributes for a job well done and for what they keep on doing. These are dark times, and the staff just keeps on rallying in the middle of the war against COVID-19. They are awesome and so inspiring.<br />
<br />
Some of my staff were out sick on furlough; I was hoping that they were self-isolating with just fevers and a few aches and pains. I prayed, please no shortness of breath. I fought my tears as I called or texted the staff, just to check in, just to make sure that they are okay. I preferred texting because I didn't want my staff to hear the quiver of fear in my voice. I held my breath until they assured me that they were breathing fine. </span><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;">I received this text from a nurse: “<i>Today was a rough day with all the sick patients in the ED but having our EMS there was soooo helpful. They were so eager to step up and work. They were so interested in all the patients, treated them with so much respect, and helped me out tremendously. If they weren’t there, I think today easily could have been one of those days you go home and cry or bury your face in a pint of ice cream. I hope they come back every day and thank you for having them there</i>.”<br />
<br />
I felt feverish. My temperature was 97.8. Thank God.<br />
<br />
<b>March 22- </b><br />
<br />
</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzoTyHyhXDoa2o40hKG1f55lLYcRsWuXOTWU69xWbAdWoTTAHF-a9WLBFr4AmcyJCLGt9qXq4eW_i5I0sU9hRHUEL7z_fYoflh9sMZUJwIuRS6EFdGNqlWfMep-zx9ZAZgdP8qIMk3YM/s1600/91421787_3509867495696621_5571632851423592448_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="185" data-original-width="272" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfzoTyHyhXDoa2o40hKG1f55lLYcRsWuXOTWU69xWbAdWoTTAHF-a9WLBFr4AmcyJCLGt9qXq4eW_i5I0sU9hRHUEL7z_fYoflh9sMZUJwIuRS6EFdGNqlWfMep-zx9ZAZgdP8qIMk3YM/s400/91421787_3509867495696621_5571632851423592448_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<br />
In the #YearoftheNurse2020, the COVID-19 pandemic is certainly challenging the resolve of nurses, and all the healthcare workers (doctors, PAs, techs, registrars, handlers, and ancillary staff), all over the world. The Emergency Department staff steps up to the plate as they have done time and time again. In the war against this coronavirus, the warriors choose to give their best amid the anxiety, fear, and stress. Strength, courage, and dedication are manifested in every single one of them, no matter what their job entails. These are the faces of the brave ones, those who uphold their duty above all else. Thank you, everyone, as well as the other warriors in the inpatient units and in the ICUs. I am so proud of all of the healthcare workers here and everywhere.<br />
<br />
As you can see, the community acknowledges all our efforts. The food just keeps on coming, a gesture of appreciation from the people who depend on us for their healthcare needs. The Thank Yous certainly mean a lot; they remind us of the reason why we are doing this. We are working for the patients who need our care. This is one department's journey in pictures, chronicles of individual and the ED team strengths. I started my COVID-19 album on Facebook. I wanted to capture in posterity those moments of levity in between moments of heartbreaks. We will survive this madness. <br />
<br />
<b>March 24- </b><br />
The nerves were getting to the staff. As the handlers were giving out the new goggles, there was a misunderstanding about the distribution. I got to the ED right when one nurse burst into tears, she was frustrated because she did not get her new goggles, and she was holding her flimsy old ones with the frayed strings. I mediated and got her the new goggles that she deserved. I know that the tears were of frustration, were of fear. I could only pat her back and stay by her side until her tears stopped. She did not want to leave her assignment. Then she took a deep breath and smiled, “I am okay.”<br />
<br />
The RN travelers are not here yet, but at least some Procedural nurses and techs were redeployed back to the ED. They can do tasks, labs, and lines, Team Nursing we go. Then, we received some EMS techs and paramedics arrived. All hands on deck. We needed all the assistance we can get. The doctors and nurses have been rushing to the rooms to resuscitate the sick patients who come right after another. I saw one of the doctors sitting at the desk with anguish on his face. He just called the patient’s son that his father passed away. The apex came two weeks early.<br />
<br />
<b>March 25- </b><br />
The nurse manager and educator were out on furlough, and half of my leadership team. My assistant nurse manager was busy trying to staff the unit. For the first time in all my years as an ED nurse, I felt I was drowning. The ED NEDOCs score was high in the 170s, we are seriously overcrowded with two intubations going at the same time. I kept an eye on the ventilator reports. We are low on the BiPAP but we're getting some delivered in the afternoon. The hospital converted some inpatient units to ICU beds but our patients were not going up quick enough to decant the ED. I must say that I am impressed on how the hospital converted some units into COVID-receiving units in a matter of days.<br />
<br />
A 55-year-old COVID patient succumbed to cardiac arrest. Too young to die. It could be anyone of us. There was shock in the nurses’ eyes. After he was pronounced, the team members offered a moment of silence to pay their respects to the patient. There was no family to mourn him at the bedside. I tried to help out with the post-mortem but the nurses told me that they can handle it. One nurse said, “<i>We cannot afford you to be sick. Who else will look out for us</i>?” I almost bawled in front of the team. I felt a little bit useless and somewhat useful, even needed.<br />
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<b>March 26-</b><br />
My nurse’s husband was admitted to the hospital for shortness of breath related to COVID-19 and she could not stay with him. No visiting rule, even for her. It broke her heart to be so helpless. I cannot do anything. As she cried on the phone, all I could do was listen and cry along with her. I called the nurse manager in that inpatient unit to keep an eye on the husband. I visited the unit but the patient was asleep. His breathing was normal and his oxygen saturation was 96% on nasal cannula. He will be okay. At least, my nurse’s husband is not in the ICU. <br />
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<b>March 27-</b><br />
I heard two medical codes being called in the ICUs in just one hour. There were more calls for respiratory therapists throughout the day. The ED is like a warzone, we are a COVID unit after all. I saw a blur of yellow isolation gowns when a group of doctors and nurses responded to Room 22 in the ED; they have to intubate the new patient. Not even five minutes later, another call for help in Room 1 for a high-flow oxygen machine. And another patient in respiratory distress was rushed in by EMS. The charge nurse called out for another team to Room 2. I had 36 boarders in the ED, all complaints related to COVID, some confirmed, some PUIs, some PUMs. The nomenclatures and the changing guidelines from CDC are confusing. The intensity level is high in the ED. <br /><br />
<b>March 28-</b><br />
After an exhausting week of being the Administrator on Call in the middle of a brutal week of COVID-19 response in the hospital, I needed to do self-care in order to get re-energized for probably a more brutal week. And then reading the Thank You cards from the #mountsinaimorningside community, I see the reason "Why" we are doing this. This is our "Ikigai", our reason for being. The ED received an outpouring of love and support from the community. Food deliveries came unsolicited almost every day. And they were calling the healthcare workers their heroes.<br />
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Late at night, I received a call from my assistant nurse manager about the Visiting rules. A family member wanted to see her dying mother in the ED. The No Visitor rule was just enforced, but for end-of-life moments, visiting was allowed. The iPADs help with facilitating communication between families but nothing can take the place of an actual visit. The unit leaders all said yes. My chief nursing officer and chief medical officer approved. It was a humane decision to allow a daughter to say her final goodbye. No one should die alone.<br />
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<b>March 29-</b><br />
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The news painted a terrible picture of the dire situation at my previous hospital. Suddenly, Queens is now the epicenter within the epicenter. The harrowing details of devastating deaths and inadequate staffing, PPE, and ventilators told the rest of the world that we are in deep trouble. My heart broke for what my former colleagues were going through.<br />
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I posted this on LinkedIn and FB: <i>I just want to pay tribute to the staff at Elmhurst Hospital, my work home for 21 years. My love to the ED staff who continues to give their very best. I left a piece of my heart with you. Even as I do my own work here at Mount Sinai Morningside, I think of you on the frontlines at the 'Hurst. May you get the help you most deserve. You are all amazing. Be safe, be strong. This Thank You sign in front of the hospital should let you know how the community appreciates you all. The artist Scott LoBaido showed his gratitude to the Elmhurst warriors thru his art. As a nurse, I appreciate the sacrifice you all do. We're in this together.</i><br /><br />
<br /><b>March 30- </b><br />
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</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQ3Ja9A1Hs6bcUP62zoX7eswUjjtKAaHJZQ1ZlWTQi6eBIMVcKIBHtGyejtsk4VzNS3ruJEdB8XMacKnjt-xjxWuuVI8D_iQrNssOcDGeaLSiZN3dI-YuIKD1ed5eYEm_bCS0o1JLSrE/s1600/Heroes.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtQ3Ja9A1Hs6bcUP62zoX7eswUjjtKAaHJZQ1ZlWTQi6eBIMVcKIBHtGyejtsk4VzNS3ruJEdB8XMacKnjt-xjxWuuVI8D_iQrNssOcDGeaLSiZN3dI-YuIKD1ed5eYEm_bCS0o1JLSrE/s400/Heroes.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;">Artist unknown<br />
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This says it all. It takes courage to go where nobody else wants to go. It takes dedication to leave our families behind. It takes resilience to bounce back from a shift of heartaches and frustration to come back another day. It takes some kind of craziness to be a health care worker at this time of great stress. It takes someone special and amazing to be on the frontlines of this war. The nurse represents ALL the healthcare workers in the middle of this fight against COVID. Kudos to all the nurses, doctors, PAs, NPs, techs, registrars, resp. therapists, transports, EMS workers, Security, EVS workers, engineering, IT support, and all the administrative leadership staff who work behind the scenes to open more and more beds for us. <i>AJA! Laban lang!<br /></i><br />
<b>April 1-</b><br />
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I don’t remember who and when the 7pm clapping actually started. Suddenly, there were videos of clapping and cheering emanating from the apartment buildings around Manhattan. New Yorkers rallying to support those who cannot stay home. They were united in applauding the healthcare professionals working on the front lines of the COVID-19 pandemic. It felt good.<br />
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Then at 7pm, the sirens of the New York Fire Department provided a heart-warming surprise tribute. The New York Fire Department Engine 47 gave their respects to the staff of Mount Sinai Morningside right at the corner of Amsterdam and 113th Street. A wall of heroes applauding the new, albeit reluctant, heroes of our time. The ED staff loved returning the applause. The rousing celebration of the work we do somehow validates all the sacrifices that we make. There were air horns, somewhere distant the clanging of pots and pans. Soon the ED staff was joined by other hospital workers from the inpatient units. They hooted and cheered, for a few minutes forgetting the horrors behind the front door of the ED. In moments of crisis, we savor those moments which make sense of everything we do.<br />
<br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>April 3</b><br />The eyes have it. As I go through the ED, I see all the staff bravely going through the day. Behind their masks and face shields, they put their thumbs up but I could feel the rising anxiety. I had to peer into their face shields to see who I was talking to. The eyes told me what they were feeling. Sad eyes from the deaths they have witnessed, more than they ever did in a single shift. Worried eyes because they needed assurance that they will not bring this virus home to their family. Haunted eyes for witnessing the final goodbyes between the patients and their loved ones on the iPAD. <br /><br />But they are here, doing their job the best that they could. It's the worst of times but I see the staff stepping up. A physician assistant brought an iPAD to the room so the patient and the self-quarantined family can talk to each other. The doctors slumped in their seats as they held their phones to their ears, as they fielded questions from the worried families. The nurses and techs gowned up to prepare a patient for the morgue. At 3pm, the techs gathered around after huddle to say their prayers. They are the heroes of these uncertain times. And to survive, I see them supporting and being kind to each other, sharing the hand-made masks and surgical caps donated to them by worried friends. <br /><br />In the staff lounge, on her break, a nurse removed her tight N95 mask as she settled down on a chair to rest, the string marks stayed on her face; red bruises under her eyes and on her nose. She closed her eyes, probably in meditation, probably just to get her bearing. Like everyone else in the healthcare world, she was exhausted. I closed the door so she can have her moment of peace.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>April 6-</b><br /><br /><br /><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/qZ3C2AESRmQ" width="560"></iframe><br /><br /><br />Here's our Mount Sinai Morningside crew. Taking a respite from the heart-breaking work to just enjoy ourselves and support each other through the hard times. Somehow, we found time to just have a little fun, and at the same time exhort the public to stay home. #stayhome #flattenthecurve #mountsinaimorningside.</span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>April 7-</b><br />
Positive news of survival should be celebrated. In our fight against COVID, we have to gather strength and hope in those things that affirm our impact on our patients' lives. We have to find the joys that will keep us moving forward. The digital board in the lobby announced that there were 137 patients who went back home to their loved ones yesterday. Today, my nurse's husband was number 138. Finding our Joy in small victories. <br />
<br />
A staff nurse who was out on sick leave called me crying. She saw the staff video and expressed her guilt for not taking her place at the bedside with her peers. Other staff members expressed the same thing to me. I told her gently to take care of herself first, that the best thing she can do for us is to just keep us in her prayers.<br />
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A week ago, I suggested to the Incident Command Center to post the Good News of our discharges, as a kind of a morale-booster to the staff, to remind them that we are saving lives. I wondered if our city will give the healthcare workers our own ticker tape parade, maybe in the Canyon of Heroes.<br />
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<b>April 9-</b><br />
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Mqfmaazc1i4" width="560"></iframe><br />
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<br />
Check this out. The husband of our ANCC Diana Velazquez from the Emergency Department paid tribute to the healthcare workers of #MountSinaiMorningside. Matt Hong serenaded us with a sexy sax rendition of <i>"When the Saints Go Marching In".</i> Cool!<br />
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This never gets old. A much-needed boost from our friends at FDNY, heroes themselves. There are new chalk marks of appreciation on the sidewalks leading to the ED, all from the Morningside community, their own little way of appreciating the staff at Mount Sinai Morningside. This time, the firemen were joined by the NYPD officers on horses. I saw my nurses' eyes filled with tears of joy and gratitude.<br />
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</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJ1UfFqFlqjEABs_WBKE02r3epL05Rf8zSp8xq65eZfB11KqOR29g0s9aPgHjuvc4lfzEBHikHB2fM0XgvMLDxisrVKUhucDTA3XeQJm_tAe0C2tM5qoTYq8wsJiUkPhpldwUwAHzTiw/s1600/siewalk.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="881" data-original-width="1281" height="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGJ1UfFqFlqjEABs_WBKE02r3epL05Rf8zSp8xq65eZfB11KqOR29g0s9aPgHjuvc4lfzEBHikHB2fM0XgvMLDxisrVKUhucDTA3XeQJm_tAe0C2tM5qoTYq8wsJiUkPhpldwUwAHzTiw/s640/siewalk.png" width="640" /></span></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
<b>April 10- </b><br />
I am glad I was able to witness a patient's discharge; he is a COVID survivor. The patient broke into a wide grin as he was met with a chorus of well-wishes and boisterous applause at the #MountSinaiMorningside lobby. It is an honor and privilege to be among a group of people who cheered this patient. Much as he appreciated the warm send-off, I felt similarly blessed. It was a great feeling, a much-needed pick-me-up. There was encouraging news about the downward trending admission rates but I couldn't shake a lingering sadness earlier because of some losses of people I know. At that moment, I was energized, I felt joyful seeing the patient's grateful smile. I caught his eyes and I felt my own tears fall as he mouthed. "Thank You". I never took care of him, but he was everybody's patient at that time. Sir, Thank you.<br />
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<b>April 11-</b><br />
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Pause and Applause have started at #MountSinaiMorningside. <br />
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We PAUSE to reflect on the lives lost due to COVID-19 and to strengthen our resolve to fight for the lives we can still save. <br />
APPLAUSE is a more joyous occasion. We clap when a patient is discharged. We applaud to rejoice for the life that was saved; someone's loved one who was given a second chance. <br />
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<b>April 12- </b><br />
"<i>Always call upon our Father<br />
When afflictions, you may suffer;<br />
He’ll never forsake you in your hardship.<br />
His help He will give as long as you shall live"<br />
</i><br />
This I believe. I had to believe that the pandemic will soon end. Our worship service is now on Webex. The video was grainy, and the choir hymns were canned, but the minister delivered a spiritual and uplifting sermon. My church (Church of Christ) has been doing the virtual worship service by Webex for several weeks now. I miss going to Church; I miss the brethren, the hymn-singing, just being in the House of God. This is just a bump in the road, a little test of faith. After the service, the minister beamed with relief when he saw the faces on the screen. We waved back at him. My soul needed it. <br />
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<b>April 13- </b><br />
One of the nurses relayed that she triaged one of the first COVID 19 patients she took care of last month. She recognized the eyes of the patient; those same eyes who looked at her with dread when he came in with double pneumonia and had to be intubated on his first visit. She thought he was the sickest of the sickest that horrendous day with a poor prognosis. But he was discharged two weeks later. This time he came because he was short of breath on exertion. <br />
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As he sat on the triage chair, he relaxed and even laughed when the nurse stated she recognized him. His eyes were not as frightened anymore, just concerned. He later smiled with relief when his oxygen saturation showed as 99% on room air. He acknowledged he just had to give time to feel stronger, for his lungs to go back to normal. Nurse Jovy told me that she sobbed in relief when the patient left to go home.<br />
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<b>April 14- </b><br />
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After a heartbreaking loss of a church friend that had momentarily shook my world, this picture somehow eases the pain, even for just a little moment. One of our own ED staff, a registrar, was discharged after weeks of hospitalization for COVID-19. The word Social Distancing did not really enter my consciousness at that time, sorry. In defense, everyone was all masked. The lobby of the #MountSinaiMorningside was filled with thundering applause amid chants of his name. It was a celebration of a life saved, of winning one against a dreaded disease, of teamwork and unity, of survival (not just for the patient but for all those who continue to fight). <br />
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Joining this celebration was one of my nurses who survived COVID herself. She was one of the loudest cheerers. Seeing both survivors were inspiring. The moment was all-powerful, and a big morale-booster for those in the biggest battle in our professional lives. It was a joyful celebration of the men and women who fought for this patient. As I saw the numbers on the Discharge monitor continue to climb, I am hopeful that this nightmare will soon pass. It was a special Thank You that another one got away. Take that, COVID!!!<br />
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<b>April 15-</b><br />
I feel a deep, aching sadness in my heart. Yesterday, one of the most-beloved members of our church passed away. I cried for the family he left behind and for the generations of church brethren that he touched. I cried for every single one of my friends and acquaintances who died due to COVID. There is a pain of loss and the continuing fear of losing some more. Too many friends who lost family members to this pestilence. Too many precious lives gone.<br />
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<b>April 16- </b><br />
There are others in other states with a myopic understanding of how dangerous this coronavirus is and they demand to ease the lockdown. The healthcare workers continue to venture out every day to take care of the sick so that others can stay home. I feel anger that there are people who bemoan about being bored out of their minds due to staying at home. I feel disgusted at those who disregard the tragedy of lives lost just because they think that their freedom is curtailed. <br />
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The Stop-the-lockdown movement is fueled by ignorant, uneducated people who were not yet touched by this pandemic. They are just adult versions of that stupid teenager during the spring break in Miami who stated, “<i>If I get corona, I get corona. At the end of the day, I’m not going to let it stop me from partying</i>. What is wrong with these people?</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;">ADDENDUM: </span></b></div><div><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>April 20- </b><br />I must have looked dejected as I walked through the lobby. I had my surgical cap and my N95 mask on but I was still recognizable with my ubiquitous white lab coat. Somebody asked me “<i>How are you</i>”. I shrugged my shoulders, squeaked a weak “<i>I’m okay</i>”, and quickly turned around. My tears threatened to overwhelm me and I did not want to ugly-cry in the middle of the lobby. I did not want to break down, I did not want to curl into a fetal position. A part of me wanted to say "I'm having a tough time" but I was not ready to share. I just heard of a church friend and church deacon passing from COVID-19. This is heartbreaking. In my previous hospital, five hospital workers succumbed to the complications of Covid-19. The threat of contamination looms over our heads like Damocles' sword. When is this going to end?<br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />
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<b>April 23-</b><br />
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This morning looks like a miracle to me. I can breathe better. I had a good night's sleep after the surprisingly calming effects of my crossword puzzles and the soothing music of Anne Murray. Earlier that day, the Mental Health Liaison met with the staff to offer some options to de-stress, to decompress. We need to do our Mental PPE. I prayed not for myself but for my own family and my work family. Then, I turned to the one thing that always calms me down: I write. I wrote what my heart spoke.<br />
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There were only 8 patients in the ED, three of which are COVID patients waiting for the med-surg beds. No ICU patient at this time. More nurses than there were patients. For the very first time ever, our NEDOCS score is -2 (negative 2). The charge nurse later texted me in the afternoon that the volume had picked up. There were now 40 patients in the ED with some trauma codes and non-COVID patients in the mix. <br />
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FaceTime eased my loneliness when I spoke with my son. He had just been working at home and he is safe. My mom is also safe in Manila, enjoying her wine now that there was no more beer to procure. It is how she relaxes at home. Everybody at home and at work is safe. That's all I needed to know.<br />
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My temperature was 97.8F. Most of my staff members who were furloughed are back to work, ready to join the fight again. Governor Andrew Cuomo said that the COVID-19 war is not over but he cautions against prematurely stopping the lockdown. <br />
<br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">July 30- <u><o:p></o:p></u></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">What a year it is. It's not over yet. The tsunami of
admissions had abated here in New York but there is still fear of a second
wave. There are more non-COVID patients
in the ED. The patient census had dramatically gone down. There are more nurses
than patients. Now I can breathe better. I am sleeping better. There is light
at the end of the tunnel.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Sept. 29-</span></b></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">To heal myself, I turn to the things that I am grateful for:
my family and friends, my church, my work family, music, books, food, puzzles,
and our dog. I look for my joy triggers. That is how I keep myself sane amidst
all the challenges of life in the new normal. And then, I write. I write what
my heart speaks.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">October 4- <u><o:p></o:p></u></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I hear the laughter now. I see my staff SMIZE; their eyes are smiling above their
masks. They know it is not completely over yet, but they find strength in each
other.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Nobody comes out of this pandemic unscathed. We have to
actively and deliberately plan our joys in and outside of work. One of the nurses shared her joy when a recovered patient
recognized her eyes when she cared for him in the ED.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As we all put together the pieces of our broken hearts, we
march onward, stronger together. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">December 13-<u><o:p></o:p></u></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The second wave is here. Covid 2.0. It is a scary time. But
the vaccine is here. There is HOPE and RELIEF. It is the beginning of the end. I am hoping that a few months from now, I can
finally travel and hug my mom again.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">For us. For our families. For you. For our country.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">December 17-<u><o:p></o:p></u></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">I got my Covid-19 vaccine today and so did some of my ED and
ICU colleagues. Finally, the Pfizer vaccine is here. I have been waiting for
this. Now that we’re on the Second Wave of this horrific pandemic, I am
confident that we have what it takes to fight back with a vengeance. I am
joyful that this is the beginning of the end of this disease that has gripped
us in a chokehold for so many months. T But now there is hope. I must
confess that I was teary-eyed because I can see the light at the end of the
long tunnel. The vaccine is a game-changer. This will afford all of mankind to
get back to the new normal. Thank you to the scientists and the volunteer research
subjects; they are heroes themselves. Maybe, a few months later, I will be able
to travel and hug my mom again.
#LetsBeatCOVID19 #Havefaithinthescience</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">December 31-<u><o:p></o:p></u></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was a heart-wrenching year. A year of profound sadness, despair, and helplessness, of fears and anxieties that continue to haunt us
to this day. This disease has gripped us in a chokehold for so many months.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">Somehow, the collection of pictures turned into a journal of
our collective experience during the pandemic. I encouraged others to share
their personal reflections; I understand the need to share, to relieve the
heart of the burden of fear.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The ED staff fought together, united as we were never
before. We had to work together as a team; it was the only way to survive on
these darkest of days.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">For me, Journaling is a coping mechanism, it puts things in
perspective; it slows things down to manageable parts. It is a therapeutic
activity to drain the brain of stressful recollections. It gives me time to
breathe, to process my emotions.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">When written on paper, the pain loses its intensity. Like a
catharsis of negative emotions. Not that we can ever forget. We just need
to keep our hearts from breaking into a million pieces, just need to find
comfort in the small triumphs. Just so we can continue to fight and survive.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">The war against Covid-19 is ongoing, but having the vaccine
is a huge relief. We have a fighting chance.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: medium;">As 2020 closes… HOPE. Looking forward to 2021 being a better
and safer year for all of us.<o:p></o:p></span></p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOd_lBzMLtbufUwSrO3YfW9J6HHHowJ0q3VIoGe2v4qaDqxWm1i3g-PdZ0yPd54euN30tti1is-hWMJwOEXjiQ0jtRxrEq6DKrofFuZHGa5Xe463Q1mpSSQQZSx400s_h8mTqRhkfSrxg/s1600/a65dc598fbb69e4396653361eb53293d.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="645" data-original-width="474" height="487" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOd_lBzMLtbufUwSrO3YfW9J6HHHowJ0q3VIoGe2v4qaDqxWm1i3g-PdZ0yPd54euN30tti1is-hWMJwOEXjiQ0jtRxrEq6DKrofFuZHGa5Xe463Q1mpSSQQZSx400s_h8mTqRhkfSrxg/w358-h487/a65dc598fbb69e4396653361eb53293d.jpg" width="358" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Check out the Virtual ED Nursing Journal</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/2020/10/srchttpswww.html">ED Nursing Stories</a><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div></div>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-13328859475277517852020-02-29T18:10:00.006-08:002022-10-08T19:54:10.239-07:00Finding my Joy in Nursing: Knowing my Whys<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWsLyZRuNpGnZATnD_aXy3DGUJRSZ8y7qbZucbBIuFp87wSPKOnooO4HvOqktP3EZnVf0TRr7KUQrfV8kJHt54OmCqa7KVOBSPpoJi2WcpiLyAgKnns0jqzWT_iArCTTFZ6fZPEMx2iPU/s1600/Plan+for+Joy.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="784" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWsLyZRuNpGnZATnD_aXy3DGUJRSZ8y7qbZucbBIuFp87wSPKOnooO4HvOqktP3EZnVf0TRr7KUQrfV8kJHt54OmCqa7KVOBSPpoJi2WcpiLyAgKnns0jqzWT_iArCTTFZ6fZPEMx2iPU/s400/Plan+for+Joy.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Life’s ebb and flow can sometimes sweep you into just going through the motion without the conscious enjoyment of living. The stress of work and personal lives can often leech out happiness in one or both worlds. <br />
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<i><b>“Plan your joy”,</b></i> Michelle Obama said. We need to care for ourselves and to take the time to invigorate and refresh ourselves. There needs to be a good work-life balance in order to survive physically, mentally, and emotionally. Self-care is being mindful of our needs so we can in turn care for others.<br />
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I actively and deliberately plan my joy outside work. Whether planning the itinerary for a vacation or just enjoying a no-stress-and-waking-up-late-week-end, I seek those things that give me comfort and happiness. Good books, funny movies, soothing music, food trips around Queens with my son and family, and indulging in my joy of writing. My guilty pleasures are to explore the things that make me uniquely interesting. Even just planning for a quiet time on my sofa with the dog snoring at my feet. There is a thoughtful consideration to enjoy my days off work in order to recharge myself. Last night, I attended a spiritual Holy Supper worship service; I am blessed.<br />
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Because I spend a lot of my wake time at work, I also plan my joy when I’m working in my hospital. Unfortunately, I have seen some co-workers who allowed their work to drain the joy in their lives and they end up burned-out and bitter, sometimes because they felt trapped in a job that no longer sustains them and sometimes because they are afraid to spread their wings and find an environment that gives them joy. I am luckier than most because I truly have enjoyed my nursing journey.<br />
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The emergency department itself can be chaotic and stressful. This is the nature of my work; there are sad times when some of our patients die but there is joy when we are able to give someone a second chance at life. In all my years of nursing, from my first job as a staff nurse at a chronic care hospital to my current role as director of nursing in a busy emergency department in Manhattan, I always make a conscious effort to enjoy these moments of joy. Being joyful is not being artificial and unrealistically pollyannaish. I would rather think of it as being Optimistic, not just a Value of the Month. It is just knowing that we can reframe our minds to find meaning and purpose and joy however stressful the work environment is.<br />
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As a nursing leader, I feel the responsibility to help my nurses re-discover the joy in their work. There are financial constraints in staffing, but there is always something to do to empower our nurses to enjoy their work, even if sometimes the trials to both body and spirit can be challenging. I would like my staff to feel that they belong that they are appreciated and that they matter. One day, a nurse stopped me to complain about the boarders in the ED, those patients take out their frustrations on the nurses because they were waiting for inpatient beds. I gently asked her if she is asking to transfer to another unit. As I actually expected, she burst out laughing and said, “Hahaha, I am just venting. I love my patients and I love my co-workers, Thanks for listening.”.<br />
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I celebrate the work of every healthcare person in the hospital. A single person can make a difference. At our leadership retreat, the testimony of a trauma survivor touched my heart. She was a pedestrian-struck patient who sustained multiple fractures and injuries. She recounted very candidly her ordeal back to recovery and gave thoughtful and honest suggestions on how we can make things better for the next patient. She was thankful for the many healthcare workers who made a difference in her care. She spoke about simple acts of kindness like the ice cream from a dietary aide and the shampoo that the trauma coordinator helped her with. She remembered the good, the bad, and the ugly, but she earnestly spoke of the things that lifted her heart.<br />
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I live for the unexpected <i>Thank You</i>. One elderly man thanked me for staying with his anxious wife while he parked the car. It was just a simple gesture, just a few minutes of my time. To this couple, this meant that the wife’s anxiety did not unravel into a full-blown panic attack. The elderly man didn't know that just a few minutes ago, I came from assisting in a cardiac arrest of a young man who succumbed to an overdose. The “thank yous” are our emotional rewards, Two simple words that gave me joy that day. <br />
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The comedian <b>Michael Jr</b>. explained, <b>“When you know your ‘why’ then your ‘what’ has more impact because you’re working towards your purpose.”</b> The man in the video discovered his WHY and sang Amazing Grace with his heart. <br />
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The author <b>Simon Sinek</b> wrote that <b>"it is only when you understand your “why” (or your purpose) that you’ll be more capable of pursuing the things that give you fulfillment"</b>. A purpose-driven life clears your pathway and makes sense of your actions, therefore it is what gives you the reason to keep on going, to start waking up in the morning, and to stop the snooze button on the alarm clock. This happens when you find joy in your life.<br />
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My joy is in the numerous little ways that validate me as a nurse. The ways we make a difference strengthen me amidst the sadness and chaos; a reminder of why I am a nurse. The reason WHY I stay and keep on going is that it is indeed a blessing to be part of a service profession that gives patients more than just a second chance.<br />
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Moments like these give us joy in our work. Nurses appreciate the simple pleasures- a thank you from a patient or a colleague, a life saved, recognition for a job well done, and a chuckle shared with co-workers. I do not have to reflect long and hard to remember the joys in my nursing life. It is when you are successful in maintaining the right balance in your life. <b>This is my “WHY”, my 'IKIGAI" or "my reason for being"</b>.<br /></span>
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<a href="http://jo-cerrudo.blogspot.com/search/label/thank%20you"></a>Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-46396466782625466752019-12-28T15:45:00.006-08:002023-08-08T09:35:17.718-07:00The Holiday Heart: Improving the Patient Experience During the Holidays<br />
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Our hospital president posted a poignant holiday message for the staff this week. He talked about the melancholy in Joni Mitchell’s song “River”. He wrote that <i>“the song paints the picture of the season, but it juxtaposes against that backdrop a sense of melancholy that is not usually associated with the end of year festivities… One of the extraordinary blessings of delivering care is that, for a period of time, we are our patients' families. We are their loved ones. We are their company when no one comes to visit. We are their comfort when the outcome of their stay with us is uncertain.”</i><br />
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That post resonated with me. My first job here in the United States was in a long-term facility. The patients were long abandoned by their families; left under a stranger’s care. The nursing staff held their hands and listened to the nostalgic remembrances of their loved ones. I sometimes stayed past my shift just to listen. We became their family. The nurses dried their tears just as we dried our own tears of being away from home. We were their daughters and granddaughters. <br />
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The three years I spent in that hospital shaped me to be a better nurse. I emerged to be more compassionate and empathetic to the patients. The pangs of homesickness were better dealt with when amongst the patients who needed our care. I gave my patients an extra dose of care and attention during the holidays. The staff tried to cheer up the patients and to provide distraction when their families forgot to care. I remember holding the hand of one trache-dependent ALS patient as he waited for the visit that never came. He could not verbalize his disappointment but I saw his eyes react sadly whenever the other patients in the 4-bedded room received their own visitors. <br />
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In the merriment of the season, hospitals see a lot of patients overcome with depression. Those who are medically sick sometimes spend the holidays with the staff who had to leave their families to take care of their patients. In the emergency department, we continue to get patients who choose to binge drink to fight their loneliness and ended up with <b>Holiday Heart syndrome.</b> <br />
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One New Year’s eve several years ago, I stayed with one lonely 70 y/o patient as we watched on tv for the Times Square crystal ball to drop. She was waiting for her family to pick her up. She was teary-eyed, confused at the babble of voices in our crowded ED, unable to understand the language. But she smiled when I brought her food and counted down with her during the ball drop. As I hugged her, I was reminded of my mom, miles away in the Philippines. The patient eased my homesickness as I comforted her. Mrs. Chen bowed to me and said "<i>Xie-xie</i>" (Thank you in Mandarin).<br />
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During the holiday season when families spend time together, someone out there is looking for some love and attention. Like the woman from Oklahoma who posted on Craigslist, <i>“Anybody needs a grandma for Christmas? I’ll even bring food and gifts for the kids! I have nobody and it really hurts.”</i> This post went viral and illustrated the stark reality that many of our elderly population are isolated from their families. Actually, not just the elderly; there are many lonely people in the world.<br />
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Thank you to all of those who work during the holidays. At a time when all others celebrate the holidays in the comfort of their homes with their loved ones, it is a blessing to bring some kind of comfort and peace to those who need them the most. During the holidays, the ED is not always crowded so there is always a chance to spread some cheer around. A little touch, a little smile, and some time to just listen go a long way to ease a lonely heart.<br />
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<b>"River" by Joni Mitchell</b><br />
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<b>"River" by Sarah McLachlan</b><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Holiday Heart Syndrome</b><br />
In 1978, Philip Ettinger described "Holiday heart syndrome" (HHS) for the first time, as the occurrence, in healthy people without heart disease known to cause arrhythmia, of an acute cardiac rhythm disturbance, most frequently atrial fibrillation, after binge drinking. The name is derived from the fact that episodes were initially observed more frequently after weekends or public holidays. <br />
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3998158/</span><br />
Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-34671294859839034362019-11-02T20:28:00.001-07:002023-08-08T09:37:14.274-07:00When One of Our Own Is the Patient: Anna's Story<br />
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“Trauma notification coming in”…<br />
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It was not just any other trauma patient, not just a stranger. The woman on the EMS gurney groaned in pain. Her face was bloodied and disfigured, her hair matted with drying blood, the face almost beyond recognition, until I saw the nurse’s uniform. Just like my own.<br />
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“Anna”, I whispered her name but it sounded loud in a room suddenly rendered quiet by the shared recognition. Anna was one of the senior nurses in the ED, and she was well-loved by all of us. Even the surgeons respected her. She was the ED’s toughest nurse, and we were all proud of her.<br />
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There was just one muffled curse then the trauma chief’s voice spurred everyone into action. We listened as we moved Anna to the stretcher. The EMS paramedic’s voice quavered with the report. “We got the call about the assault from about two streets away from the hospital. She was assaulted by her ex-husband. She’s breathing and moving all extremities. She’s awake, alert, and oriented but she cannot talk much because of her swollen face.”<br />
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The other paramedic chimed in, “And her ex was arrested by the cops. A few construction men came to her aid, but I think they beat him up too.”. I hoped that he was beaten up bad too. I was also relieved that the police did not bring that evil man to our ED.<br />
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As I cut her scrubs, I felt my eyes sting with the tears, which I had to blink away. My heart was in my throat. My hands were shaking. I locked my knees and leaned into the stretcher to prevent myself from falling. Damn it, I had to be strong because I better be the best trauma nurse there is for Anna.<br />
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I saw the fear in the staff's eyes. It was surreal to be taking care of one of our own. Anna was the trauma nurse for the day; she just went out for her lunch break and now she was lying down on the same stretcher that she just prepared. <br />
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Just like the professionals that we were, the team went to work. The other nurses looked as determined as I was as we all took our positions and did exactly what she taught us to do. Our trauma team worked in sync. The patient was one of our very own. <br />
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The ED doctors and the surgeons methodically did their assessments, Airway good, breathing on her own, no pneumothorax, vitals good. FAST was negative. As soon as the IVs were inserted, the tetanus and the antibiotics were given, we had Anna readied for the CT scans. I scooted around to her side and held her hand. Anna squeezed my hand tightly, and I said “We got you.”.<br />
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As we passed through the trauma door, several hands reached out to move the stretcher, a few “I love you" from the staff followed Anna into the CT scan. I think everybody held their breaths as we waited for the test results. <br />
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The rest of the staff had to return to their own assignments, each one held their emotions in check as they braced against the onslaught of patients demanding their pain medications and complaining about what took the staff too long to attend to their needs. One of our own was hurt, I wanted to yell at the intoxicated patient who called out for more turkey sandwiches.<br />
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The results came back. All were negative except for one broken finger when Anna punched back in defense. That’s our Anna. It seemed that the department heaved a collective sigh of relief. We admitted then to our ourselves that we feared the worst, and so we were all thankful and hugged each other.<br />
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Anna stayed out only for two weeks, but time was not enough to recover from the emotional trauma. Although she came back physically healthy, her heart was broken. After another month of showing up to work with a forced smile, she finally said her goodbyes. She relocated with her son to California, away from her husband who was in jail, to be with her mother and the rest of the family. <br />
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The last I heard, she was back to her old self, a no-nonsense nurse who intimidated the residents and the surgeons in her new hospital. Anna was back. <br /></span>
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Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-36554880086675307862019-10-06T19:58:00.004-07:002023-08-08T09:38:31.747-07:00Making a Difference as an ED Nurse #IMakeADifference<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEividZhwWg4ibBecGk5R1sZgeROtL3hSFs53X-_wQoXaC1s5OwJF3q_kwle6v28gag3hSF85vJPjFYiXhK-LNSFOrvOLyDKz6slBk7qSxYxZV9r-LoFJ2YhoV2O0OEll2nSEAgPXA9JK6E/s1600/Difference.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="366" data-original-width="788" height="186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEividZhwWg4ibBecGk5R1sZgeROtL3hSFs53X-_wQoXaC1s5OwJF3q_kwle6v28gag3hSF85vJPjFYiXhK-LNSFOrvOLyDKz6slBk7qSxYxZV9r-LoFJ2YhoV2O0OEll2nSEAgPXA9JK6E/s400/Difference.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>HAPPY EMERGENCY NURSES WEEK!!!!!</b><br />
<br />
This could be you. This could be any nurse (ED or not) who makes a difference every single day. With humility, I acknowledge the privilege of touching somebody's life. That is why I am proud to be a nurse, more specifically an ED nurse.<br />
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<br />
<br />
<b>As a STAFF NURSE in the Emergency Department, I made a difference when…</b><br />
- I was the IV nurse to go to for the smallest and most difficult-to-access veins, long before those fancy vein-finder devices ever made it to production<br />
- I volunteered to work another shift of overtime, even after a few hours of sleep from partying with friends<br />
- I could last longer doing CPR than some of my co-workers who huffed and puffed after just three cycles<br />
- I sang and danced to calm down a Down syndrome patient who was having a meltdown in the midst of a noisy ER<br />
- I multi-tasked to cover another nurse who needed a little time to recover from a bad trauma case<br />
- I helped out a tech who was busy elsewhere and did the EKG myself for a patient with an atypical presentation of chest pain (she had an MI)<br />
- I intervened to prevent a fight between two intoxicated patients (I was almost hit by an errant left hook)<br />
- I cross-checked the new nurse’s drug calculations and prevented a medication error.<br />
- I triaged a quiet, stoic elderly man who sat patiently for his turn before a loud, obnoxious female who complained of having an asthma attack (while speaking in full sentences and clutching a bag of chips). He turned out to be in sepsis.<br />
- I held my dying patient's hand so he didn't die alone.<br />
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<i><b>And many more to mention…. I miss those good ole days.</b></i><br />
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<b>As a NURSE EDUCATOR in the Emergency Department, I made a difference when</b>…<br />
- I taught the nurses how to triage, to use across-the-room-assessments, and to trust their instinct, and to not be intimidated when the doctors questioned their judgments.<br />
- I watched like a hawk and did not let the nurses pass competency until they can demonstrate setting up chest tubes and rapid infusers to my satisfaction<br />
- I failed a nurse’s orientation because she did not meet her milestones, but most especially, she had the nastiest attitude toward her patients.<br />
- I patiently counseled an earnest novice nurse who had the potential to become better but just needed a little guidance to boost her self-esteem<br />
- I “saw” the “light bulb” in my students’ eyes when I taught them how to read the EKG<br />
- I gave feedback with respect<br />
- I challenged the nurses' minds so they would not accept things just because they're used to doing them<br />
- I encouraged the nurses' aides and techs to study for their nursing degree<br />
- I engaged my students in my class to participate in robust discussions <br />
- I prepared specialty certification materials for the nurses and pushed them to go for advanced degrees.<br />
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<i><b>I felt validated when I meet former students/nurses who told me that they learned so much from me</b>.</i><br />
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<b>As a NURSE LEADER in the Emergency Department, I am making a difference when…</b><br />
- I closed the vacancy gaps and improved the unit’s staffing (I must say that this is a work in progress due to increased patient admission boarders)<br />
- I promote nurse engagement, to improve retention and satisfaction; when they feel proud of being part of the work-family<br />
- I collaborate with the interdisciplinary staff to improve unit processes and patient workflow<br />
- I manage my budget but will always choose patient safety over not approving overtime when the ED is in a surge<br />
- I manage up or acknowledge the staff when they are doing great or when they do a Great Catch (catching a near-miss or potential error). I will always find a way to nominate them for a Nurse Excellence Award or for a DAISY.<br />
- I encourage advancement in the nurses’ practice by using evidence-based care<br />
- I practice Just Culture when staff makes unintentional errors and still hold shared accountability when needed<br />
- I listen with an open mind and do not cast judgments until I hear all sides.<br />
- I give honest but constructive feedback but make sure that my expectations are clear and will be followed up<br />
- I am fair, tough but compassionate. <br />
- I care. I only want the best for the unit, for the patients, and for the staff.<br />
- I still intervene during difficult patient interactions.<br />
- I do not condone workplace violence. I am an advocate for patient AND staff safety,<br />
- I sometimes cry with the nurse, when she/he needs a shoulder to cry on.<br />
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<i><b>I am still learning…. My difference may not be as exciting and full of action as when I was on the front line, but I'm hoping that I make a difference to make life easier for those in the trenches of providing care. </b></i><br /></span>
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Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-25408181780303772112019-04-09T18:45:00.003-07:002023-08-08T09:39:43.594-07:00Work Family Love<br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: medium;">
The ‘Hurst has become a second home to me. That’s where I started my career in Emergency Nursing, where I learned and grew alongside a group of kind-hearted and dedicated people and I am proud to call them my work family. Even after I left in 2011, I craved news about my beloved ‘Hurst. I am the nurse that I am today because I survived the ‘Hurst. It will always be a home to me, and will always be in my heart.<br />
<br />
And so, I wait eagerly for <b>Rich’s</b> narratives of his crazy night shifts with trauma and cardiac arrests, and in his own words, <i>“The joint was jumping, 45 pts on A, 46 on B .. 8 in CT.. 26 in FT ... standing orders for 5:2 was not enough ... even visiting resident said, " how can anyone yell at <b>Dr. Kim</b> </i>💔.“ And yet, there will always be a time to bond over Jollibee and mango pie, bahn mi and salami, and birthday cakes galore. Haven’t we bonded over picnics, holiday parties, graduations, baby showers, and any other excuse for a party? So much love and camaraderie among the work family.<br />
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I share with you all the grief, the profound sadness, and the sense of loss of two strong women, <b>Caryn and Johanna </b>who made a difference in those they touched with their kindness. They have inspired us with their strength. In a world of wonderful people, Caryn and Johanna are prime and shining examples of the phenomenal caregivers we have in our midst. I can only imagine how you are all reeling from the shock, and yet you all continue to swallow the lump in your throat and wipe the tears from your face as you care for the patients who come to the ‘Hurst.<br />
<br />
Before <b>Caryn and Johanna</b>, we lost <b>Ruthie, Beckley, Neil, Angel, Kathy, Jennifer, Phyllis, Arlene, Bob, Kettly, Ana, Julie, Rowe, and Angela. </b> And the list goes on. Nurses, doctors, PAs, techs, clerks. All members of the work family. We have fond memories of them, as we shared short-staffed and heavy-volume shifts. They left their footprints in our hearts. There was also an ER resident who took his life, <b>Derek</b> who battled depression, <b>Brad</b> who died tragically, and a new nurse who was stalked and killed by her husband. I felt guilty then because we did not recognize they needed help. <br />
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I remember one nurse who was triaging a patient with tears streaming down her face the patient actually forgot that she was in pain and came around to comfort the nurse. I still feel remorse that I had to cancel a dinner date with Phyllis because of a work emergency, only to lose her after a week. I remember Neil hugging me when he saw me break down in tears after I ran around to comfort each nurse after Beckley died. And that’s what we do, even when our hearts are breaking, we try to hold our emotions together because we need to be strong in order to help others. We are resilient in the face of loss.<br />
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This work family has to carry on. As you struggle to resuscitate the pulseless patient, as you hold back a negative response when a patient curses at you, as you hold a family member’s hand to tell them the bad news, as you keep your heads above water, as you have each other's back in times of crisis, you are strengthened as a work family. You are a team.<br />
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Let us hold their memories in our hearts and celebrate the gift of knowing them. <br /></span>
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Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-14473584911639322532018-06-10T16:51:00.002-07:002019-06-25T18:05:33.402-07:00"Papi"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gvM-04F-6b5vFGepxDwtbAez4D54FE2DBgTh7ojOFb5RA6ZGGWLlyX6Guxbl_0mDyvk-FKbEMiPtc4nE00EbILPMHZRcCJ9XeRMZ72R7qhbs98B20EbI0Bu1Su1Cv3UwVU43pxOoZYc/s1600/migrant.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gvM-04F-6b5vFGepxDwtbAez4D54FE2DBgTh7ojOFb5RA6ZGGWLlyX6Guxbl_0mDyvk-FKbEMiPtc4nE00EbILPMHZRcCJ9XeRMZ72R7qhbs98B20EbI0Bu1Su1Cv3UwVU43pxOoZYc/s320/migrant.png" width="320" height="171" data-original-width="848" data-original-height="452" /></a></div><br />
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<b>“Papi!”. </b><br />
<br />
The wail came from the child strapped on the EMS guerney. The Emergency Department was at its busiest with its usual din of alarms, and conversations between staff and patients, but that single word stopped me in my tracks. I could hardly see the patient with the crowd gathered around him, but I could hear the anguish and desperation from that single word. The child was shouting for his father. He was hoarse, his voice cracking. <br />
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Two men in black shirts emblazoned with the word ICE stood silent but watched everybody with eagle eyes. Their stern faces as they stood next to the patient did not invite any questions. A social worker from the detention shelter presented herself to the triage nurse. “We need a Psychiatric consult for the kid, he tried to bang his head on the floor after he was caught running away… again.”<br />
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As the triage nurse reached out to put the blood pressure cuff on the boy, he cowered in fear and started screaming unintelligibly. The only word that we understood was "Papi". He repeated it over and over again, as if such repetition will conjure the man. His voice was hoarse, probably from hours of screaming. The social worker spoke in Spanish to the boy and tried to calm him down. The boy clung to the social worker, the person most familiar to him. His lips quivered and his beautiful brown eyes spoke of the terror he felt surrounded by strangers.<br />
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The patient was a 7-year-old from Guatemala who was separated from his father at the Immigration Center. He lost his mother two years ago from a violent attack by a drug gang in his city. Father and son were caught trying to cross the border to America, to seek asylum, anything to escape what was a living hell for them. At this moment, the boy is trapped in a nightmare that no child should ever be in.<br />
<br />
As part of the ‘zero tolerance” policy against illegal immigration, the father was whisked away to the detention center and the boy was brought into the processing center with hundreds of other migrant children, also kept apart from their parents. Countless other kids who learned early on that America is not the haven that their parents thought it would be. <br />
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The pediatrician shooed everybody from the room except for the nurse and the social worker. The ICE men stood guard outside the room. The charge nurse called for the psychiatric doctor to examine the child. Until then, the staff could only try to calm him down and prevent him from bolting out of the door. He was sitting on the bed, refusing to speak with anyone else; his arms clutching a teddy bear that the nurse gave him.<br />
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It was difficult walking away from the terrified little boy. There was nothing I can do at that moment. But I will do something to share my voice to stop this cruelty to the vulnerable victims of a xenophobic law.<br />
<br />
I do not condone illegal immigration, but is it really necessary to separate the children from their parents? This is emotional blackmail and it hurts the kids the most. Are we risking the children's mental well-being just to enforce the rules?<br />
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How much heartache could a 7-year old take? How did it come to this that a child is taken away from his “Papi”? How did it all come down to "zero humanity"? <br />
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Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-76262061676285987542017-07-15T18:43:00.003-07:002023-08-08T09:40:30.219-07:00My Human<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiib_vbhPeamSQoD7wcAzppLUVq40fTus02UF5LTSYWwgXOSu33S_da0faFvlulhP98Ry22e_7tvED4aAN9WHQe5khOgLm9eqkpOsFOtrbQb3HBAm683hepUR6oELc3oH8rQo6htSkMezM/s1600/guide+dog.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="154" data-original-width="198" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiib_vbhPeamSQoD7wcAzppLUVq40fTus02UF5LTSYWwgXOSu33S_da0faFvlulhP98Ry22e_7tvED4aAN9WHQe5khOgLm9eqkpOsFOtrbQb3HBAm683hepUR6oELc3oH8rQo6htSkMezM/s320/guide+dog.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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I am a service animal. My human is who I am loyal to. Please do not make fun of him because he is disabled. He is trying to make the most of what he’s got. I am the only one who can understand him. I go with him everywhere, even to the hospitals. As long as I behave, I can stay at the bedside.<br />
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I am his seeing-eye dog. He can see shapes with his right eye. He lost his left eye several years ago in Afghanistan. As he walks by my side, he feels for the tug of my leash to warn him of danger in the path ahead. He responds to my subtle moves. Step to the left, step to the right. When I stop, he stops. After four years together, he trusts me. I once saved us both when I warned him of a car who whizzed by without regard to the blind man and his dog. <br />
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Yesterday, my human had to go to the hospital. The security officer tried to block me from coming into the emergency department and wanted me chained to a corner. I did not growl at him, but I was tempted to. It's good that the nurse came right on time to lecture the security officer of my human's rights.<br />
<br />
I guess the officer was just too eager. There are a few people who try to pass off their pets as service animal. If the dog is just for emotional support, that is not enough to qualify as a service dog. My human told me of Mrs. Harris, our next-door neighbor, who tried to smuggle Rosita into the hospital. That chihuahua could not stay quiet at all. She even tried to bite the nurse. Ahem, then there is Senor Diaz, his pet ferret is not a service animal even though he claims he need Chester for emotional support.<br />
<br />
My human suffers from what he calls PTSD. When there are these loud things in the distance that he calls “damn fireworks”, he cowers in the corner, just like me. We hold each other, and I try to calm myself so that he can stop shaking.<br />
<br />
My human said that the American with Disabilities Act protects his rights as a disabled person. The public cannot discriminate against a person with a disability. He said that nobody can demand proof that I am a service dog especially since it’s obvious that he is disabled. I don’t have to have a license or a certificate. Sometimes, I wear my special vest except during the hot summer months.<br />
<br />
When my human meets up with his old friends from his old platoon, that is when I also bond with the other service dogs. One German shepherd barks when his human’s blood sugar is getting low. A golden Labrador warns his human before he gets a seizure. I am a beagle and I am the most experienced dog in my group.<br />
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Oh, have you heard that miniature horses can also serve as service animals? I would love to meet one someday.<br />
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ADDENDUM: 2/7/18<br />
An artist was prevented from boarding a United Airlines flight with her "emotional support" animal. Not a dog or a miniature pony as allowed by the American Disabilities Act. She tried to bring a PEACOCK on the plane. Really?</span><br />
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Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-18349915751283065622017-01-02T11:51:00.002-08:002023-08-08T09:41:42.444-07:00Nurse, Can You Tell My Story?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii1lGN4CYRrf4c07jhHjhKzfZWlNDfATcL__9JP7u1ukY0O8NrHsNUvwgatJdpcCrbmZGkjvEodP8Idyocqqb06QkODI0Ycn-ZBck8mDC_UJEBl3ygGifqTtqdSznfjP_3EvIuplOIHQs/s1600/surgery1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii1lGN4CYRrf4c07jhHjhKzfZWlNDfATcL__9JP7u1ukY0O8NrHsNUvwgatJdpcCrbmZGkjvEodP8Idyocqqb06QkODI0Ycn-ZBck8mDC_UJEBl3ygGifqTtqdSznfjP_3EvIuplOIHQs/s400/surgery1.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>I write about Nursing because I am proud of the difference we make in our patients' lives. This is a profession that is definitely and infinitesimally life-affirming and emotionally rewarding. Then on Thanksgiving day in 2015, I received an email from a patient. His story is unforgettable and inspiring. I will call him Mike to protect his privacy.</b><br />
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<b><br />
11/26/15</b><br />
<br />
<i>Hi Ms. Cerrudo, <br />
<br />
On this Thanksgiving, I write to simply say "thank you'. I randomly come across your blog. I'm not in the medical field, but know it well - as a patient. A few years ago I was taken into surgery for an emergent surgery. The doctors discovered several masses. Unfortunately, the hepatic artery was nicked during the case and I began bleeding profusely- I subsequently coded twice during the case and it was a very skilled RN that helped perform open cardiac massage. After several weeks of intense recovery, I made it home.<br />
<br />
I now face a second major surgery in a month to attempt to repair a thoracoabdominal aortic aneurysm that is pressuring both the spinal cord and diaphragm. Additionally, they will attempt to remove some metastatic lesions on the upper and lower GI tract. They have estimated a 16-hour case with a 70% intraop mortality rate.<br />
<br />
I write to you to thank you for sharing all of your stories to exemplify how important nurses are in the most dire of situations. I was able to obtain authorization for an observer during my upcoming surgery and was wondering if you might want to observe - I think so much good could come out of you sharing my story and to re-emphasize that medicine is a balance of technical skill, compassion, and humanity. I could think of nobody better to tell that story.<br />
</i><br />
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<br />
<b>11/27/15</b><br />
<br />
<i>Hi Mike,<br />
<br />
My heart goes out to you. Despite all that you have gone through, you still managed to recognize the contribution of nurses to your care. I have never received a request from a patient for me to share their story. It will be an honor and a privilege for me to assist you in any way I can. <br />
<br />
Let me know how I can help. When is your surgery? I will be leaving for a 3-week vacation in January. I wish I can see you before then. I would really like to meet you.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>11/29/15</b><br />
<br />
<i>Hi Jocelyn,<br />
<br />
Thank you for getting back to me. Would you be open talking to me very soon? I would love to tell you of the many ways that the nurses made a difference in my care. How they comforted me when I was anxious; when I just needed someone to talk to. Can I send you my case study?</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>12/6/15</b><br />
<i>Hi Mike, <br />
<br />
I read your case study. Words fail me because I cannot imagine how difficult it is for you and your family. If you would like to discuss this with me, I would be available this Saturday before the holiday rush. In mid-January, I will be out of the country on vacation. I do want to speak to you by phone or in person, if you're up to it. Your story needs to be told.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>(In truth, I was so touched by Mike's trust in sharing his case study. He's not even thirty yet, and he has gone through a lot. The doctors removed some lesions on his gastrointestinal tract. The names of the OR staff were redacted in the operative report. The case details chronicled the whole session. The assisting surgeon prayed for spiritual guidance for the OR staff. She also prayed for the patient- for his comfort and peace of mind so that he will feel the “hedge of angels surrounding" him. She also prayed that the lessons from this case study will benefit others in the future.<br />
<br />
Except for a month’s stint in the operating room as a nursing student, I have not known much about how much stressful it is to work in the OR setting; how tenuous a life is; how in one instant, patient can bleed out from a ruptured artery. The attending surgeon stepped out twice to inform Mike's parents of complications during surgery. Each single time, the attending came back with the family’s decision for a full code. The OR surgeons, physician assistants, nurses, and scrub techs all rooted for Mike, and he survived. No neurological complication from the two episodes of cardiac arrest- one from ventricular fibrillation and one from an asystolic rhythm. <br />
<br />
Now, he wants me to write about how the nurses cared for him. I should write about how he inspired me. I cried after reading Mike's OR report. I hoped and prayed that his upcoming surgery will be a success. With all that he went through, he still wanted to honor the nurses. I may not know him personally, but I wanted to reach out and hug him.)<br />
</b><br />
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<br />
<b>12/10/15</b><br />
<br />
<i>Hi Jocelyn,<br />
<br />
Was there anything in-particular that resonated with you about my case? Have you ever had to perform compressions on the table during a non-emergent case? Both external and internal?</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>12/11/15</b><br />
<br />
<i>Dear Mike, <br />
<br />
Several things that resonated with me about your case:<br />
1. Your resilience. Your strength comes through loud and clear. The operative report was so graphic and so detailed, especially in the resuscitation efforts. Everything was so surreal.<br />
<br />
2. Your spirituality. I did not even know that prayers are held right there in the OR.<br />
<br />
I have been an ER nurse for about 25 years. I spent the last 12 years as an educator. I have done my fair share of external cardiac compressions. When I was still doing trauma, I had assisted in cardiac resuscitation using the internal defibrillation paddles, but I have not done an internal cardiac massage. The closest I have ever come to seeing this was when the trauma surgeons opened up an eight-year old boy who was hit by a baseball in his chest. To this day, I still get goosebumps when I remember the day the boy came back to the ED several weeks later, alive and well. I have never been so happy seeing the healed scar on his chest.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>(In fact, I wanted to tell Mike how grateful I am that we were able to talk over the phone. I felt emotional hearing his voice, especially since I realize that his impending surgery is complicated. He expressed optimism, but I sensed that he was resigned to the fact that he might not make it this time. With the 70% intraop mortality rate, the odds are against him. <br />
<br />
When I asked him why did he want me to specifically thank the nurses, he said, "I thanked the doctors enough, but the nurses don't get enough credit". <br />
<br />
He was not able to expound on his experience with the nurses. He was getting tired, so I suggested that we can just make another appointment to talk again. We did not have a chance to speak again since he was busy with more tests). <br />
</b><br />
<br />
<b>1/12/16</b><br />
<br />
<i>Mike,<br />
<br />
In a few days’ time, you will undergo surgery again. I am sorry that I would not be able to be there for you because I am boarding the plane to see my family. I will pray for you. Would you email me back when you have recovered? Be strong. <br />
</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>1/20/16</b><br />
<br />
<i>Mike, I pray that the operation was a success. Please email me back.</i><br />
<br />
<b>(I called him from overseas. The phone just rang and rang. I prayed that he was just busy recovering). </b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>2/26/16</b><br />
<br />
<i>Hi Mike,<br />
<br />
This is Jocelyn. It has been awhile since we corresponded. I am not sure what happened since then. Can you please e-mail me back?<br />
</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>3/8/16</b><br />
<br />
<i>Mike, are you there? I tried to call your phone, but it was not in service. I also tried to google your name for any news. </i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>11/26/16</b> <br />
<br />
<i>Mike, it has been a year since you e-mailed me. I am afraid that it is not good news since I haven't heard from you. I do not want to intrude on your family's privacy so although I know your real name, I couldn't reach out to your family. Are they even aware that you want your story shared with the world? I do not know you personally, but I am convinced that for whatever little time you have on earth (I feared the worst), you have enriched the lives of those around you. <br />
<br />
I am humbled that you chose me to tell your story. You wanted to honor the nurses. Instead, I honor you.<br />
</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Mike’s requested scripture readings before the surgery:</b><br />
<br />
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.—Psalm 147:3 <br />
<br />
Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.—Isaiah 41:10<br />
<br />
For I will restore health to you, and your wounds I will heal, declares the Lord, because they have called you an outcast: 'It is Zion, for whom no one cares- Jeremiah 30:17</span><br />
Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-36447230783222815672016-08-17T19:30:00.001-07:002023-08-08T09:42:55.385-07:00"Oh, No! Trauma Again?"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2iYVfgdJwxHNTXD6IoJrqKErMhBwxfXXulsx9GO8NltizydRB4Gn3xKq_Yi-4KVv5x-hUc545iNlnRgS4S9XixPY9dCcn0cftaMS3EN3s0RxwCd78CnRaMtYYgjYB7dgnLcYhMp4r8UU/s1600/trauma.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2iYVfgdJwxHNTXD6IoJrqKErMhBwxfXXulsx9GO8NltizydRB4Gn3xKq_Yi-4KVv5x-hUc545iNlnRgS4S9XixPY9dCcn0cftaMS3EN3s0RxwCd78CnRaMtYYgjYB7dgnLcYhMp4r8UU/s400/trauma.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><b>EMS notification</b><br />
The red phone rings above the din of the mid-day controlled chaos of the emergency department.<br />
<br />
Gloria, the charge nurse sighs and picks up the phone. The resuscitation room nurses and Dr. Cooper, ED attending, approach the nursing station with expressions on their faces something akin to dread. The weariness of the back-to-back cardiac arrests and trauma cases in the past three hours is still visible on their faces. “<i>Oh, no! Trauma again?</i>" is the collective response from the ED staff.<br />
<br />
Gloria writes furiously on the log book, her script almost illegible in her haste. “<i>Stab wound to the chest, patient hypotensive 90/50, tachycardic 118, alert and responsive, paramedic, 3 minutes ETA</i>”. The word “Trauma” is like a magic wand that transforms the frenetic atmosphere in the ED to an even more hyped-up vibe. With a quick consultation with the ED attending, Gloria activated the Trauma Team. The phone operator repeats her every word “<i>Trauma Level One, Adult, stab wound to the chest, Resus 1</i>”.<br />
<br />
<b>Team in action</b><br />
The ED team galvanizes into action. Three minutes before all hell breaks loose again. The EMS notification gives them time to prepare. Sometimes, patients walk in from a trauma incident. Other times, victims of gang-related incidents are dropped off by their friends at the ambulance area. Usually, the friends scamper away when the police authorities come around to investigate. <br />
<br />
The team leader, Dr. Cooper, calls for a brief to reinforce the roles and responsibilities of his team. There is a diagram on the wall and painted squares on the floor to remind the team. Gloria pulls one of the triage nurses to act as the scribe nurse. The team members all suit up with gowns, gloves, and goggles. The airway physician checks his airway equipment and pulls the glide scope from the other room. The nurses prepare the chest tube set-up and the rapid infuser. The survey physician is the intern who is visibly shaking since this is his first month on the job.<br />
<br />
Other ED staff and visitors try to come into the trauma room, only to be rebuffed by Gloria. The diminutive charge nurse is intimidating as she takes her place outside the trauma room; she will not allow any other non-essential personnel in the room. Somehow, a trauma case attracts rubber-neckers and it is Gloria’s duty to do crowd control, until the nurse manager comes to take over.<br />
<br />
The patient comes. Gloria could not help but think “<i>It’s show time</i>”. The EMS paramedic directs her report to the team leader, not losing her beat as her partner motions for the transfer of the patient to the trauma stretcher. The other team members work in silence as they half-listened to the report while they undress the patient and hook him to the cardiac monitor. <br />
<br />
The paramedic intones “<i>This is a 20-year-old male who was involved in a battle between two gangs. He was stabbed in his right chest. The knife is with the police now. He was carrying on at the scene cursing a streak, then he became hypotensive and tachycardic so we just rushed him in here.</i>”<br />
<br />
The ED attending glances quickly at Gloria when the paramedic mentions the gang. Gloria instinctively scans the crowd gathered outside the room. She mouths “<i>gang activity</i>” to the nurse manager. Marlene is an experienced ER nurse who had seen her share of gang-related traumas in her previous hospital. She immediately summons a security officer who then moves all the on-lookers away from the door. Security will need to contact NYPD to apprise them of the situation of the potential for gang retribution and to secure all entrances to the emergency department and the hospital. <br />
<br />
The team leader asks the survey physician to report his primary assessment. “<i>Airway is intact but there is decreased breath sound on the right. I will put a chest tube</i>”. The secondary nurse readily hands over the 38-french chest tube and insertion kit. The chest tube drains three hundred mls of blood. The patient is still alert and awake but no longer belligerent. He finally realizes that he is in big trouble and he silently endures the poking from the survey physician after he received an intravenous pain medication. <br />
<br />
Like clockwork, the nurses effortlessly insert 16-gauge IVs antecubital bilaterally. The primary nurse, Rick, hands the labeled blood tubes to Gloria who then hands them off to the patient care tech to run over to the Blood Bank. Dr. Cooper activates the massive transfusion protocol. The nurses prepare the new rapid transfuser. Gloria retrieves two units of O-negative blood from the room refrigerator. <br />
<br />
<b>Crowd Control</b><br />
However, the responding surgeons come in droves and crowd control becomes a losing battle. Marlene tries to question everyone who responds to the trauma activation. All this talk about crowd control has to be directed to the surgeons and the consultants who bring three members of their team inside the crowded room. Everyone thinks they’re indispensable.<br />
<br />
Initially, the ED team communicated quietly with each other. The arrival of the surgeons shatters the peace, but only for a few minutes. The team leader takes control and says in a firm but controlled voice, “<i>Everybody shut up. The only person to talk is me and the chief surgeon and the nurses or whoever I ask to speak</i>”.<br />
<br />
The scribe nurse Aysha calls out the vital signs. The blood pressure responds to the blood transfusion with the blood pressure slightly higher. “<i>BP- 100/52, heart rate- 100</i>”. She keeps track of the vital signs and guides the survey physician as he does the secondary assessment.<br />
<br />
The chief surgical resident discusses the patient's disposition with the ED attending. He then says to his junior resident, “<i>Call the OR now</i>.”<br />
<b><br />
Case closed</b><br />
Dr. Singh calls out, “<i>Team, thank you. Our in-situ simulation is over. Please stay for a few minutes for a quick debriefing. Great job, everybody</i>. ” He covers the simulation manikin and turns off the laptop with the programmed scenario.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></span>
<br />
Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-57961955292133412592016-07-25T13:40:00.001-07:002023-08-08T09:44:13.643-07:00Ignorance and Bigotry<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrzmUP1P5PPy8oOhhHCYw_cC8tvmpjiI9PRvBJBIb7KeNQimkFX2shUuFVcHn5qyv_2cMypsKLexUGL6nUYywBDOx5srzODoyXjP3OKLq-ciuU6H298tZWzvVIzKx5Q8BN53Xru6pBWA/s1600/angry+pt.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirrzmUP1P5PPy8oOhhHCYw_cC8tvmpjiI9PRvBJBIb7KeNQimkFX2shUuFVcHn5qyv_2cMypsKLexUGL6nUYywBDOx5srzODoyXjP3OKLq-ciuU6H298tZWzvVIzKx5Q8BN53Xru6pBWA/s400/angry+pt.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: medium;">
Readers, this past week, I heard of two ugly encounters in the emergency department. Two patients disrespected the nurses who were trying to help them because of the color of their skin. Sadly, this is nothing new. I wrote this letter about 15 years ago after a similar experience. Somehow, the hateful vitriol is further emboldened by xenophobic rhetoric from bullies and haters. I have always worked with an exemplary diverse staff who see patients as human beings. I stand proud as an American citizen and as a nurse, even as we face all these challenges with professionalism and decency. As the incredible First Lady of the United States Michelle Obama elegantly said, "When they go low, we go high".<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Dear patient,</i><br />
<br />
<i>I wish I can erase that hatred in your heart, that xenophobic attitude against anyone who doesn’t look like you. You cursed at me and told me to “return to my country”, even as I was just trying to triage you. I swallowed the bile in my throat as you ranted about immigrants who stole your job. I have two college degrees, dear patient. Based on your incoherent and ungrammatical ramblings, I am pretty sure you could not perform my job.<br />
<br />
I knew you were sick so I ignored your blatant racism. I allowed my orientee to interview you just so I can get enough information on why you have tachycardia and back pains. I did not call security to escort you out because I realized that you needed medical help, despite the obscene gestures. You are ignorant and a bigot, but you are my patient.<br />
<br />
You don’t know that I was the one who recognized that you were dying. You even refused to be seen by our Asian ED doctor and the African-American resident. But then, you collapsed in front of us. You don’t know that I was the only one who could insert a good IV line in your fragile veins. Now that you are unconscious, you would never realize that the emergency team who took care of you was a diverse group, a multi-colored group of professionals. If you knew you were dying, would you have accepted our ministrations?<br />
<br />
The rainbow of ethnicities in our emergency team did not divide us but instead united us in our efforts to serve the diverse community. Our team of doctors, nurses, and other ancillary staff did not care about the color of your skin. There was no question about your sexual orientation or political and religious affiliations. All we were concerned about was to race against time to save your life.<br />
<br />
You are our patient. If you are conscious, we would not tolerate your disgusting behavior. But unfortunately, you are now intubated and brain-dead. So we have to be blind to your faults. We will not respond in kind to your ignorance and bigotry. Despite your evil thoughts, we will remain true to our sworn oath to take care of you, as we do with all our patients. I see you as a human being. No matter what.<br />
<br />
<br />
Your Filipino-American nurse<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
P.S. You signed an Organ Donor Card. It is great that you did not state a preference for the recipients of your organs. I'm sorry that you would not be able to read this letter. I was hoping this would open your eyes and touch your heart. </i><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
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Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-90090272535317905312016-07-16T10:44:00.001-07:002023-08-08T09:44:53.606-07:00Nurse Cartoons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraI-ec49n7PVEMtBFQMUa-_l4kkpQE-sUtlaocPcD_x26OX8XNI8HE4FX3ukR3btBrnXNpzlx-3jh07aN6xnAZgVLxLbN4IGLU4L_vLqKSXWfj47tNydhOWIMBnocTvKoov9j9yVv3iA/s1600/Picture118.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="367" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgraI-ec49n7PVEMtBFQMUa-_l4kkpQE-sUtlaocPcD_x26OX8XNI8HE4FX3ukR3btBrnXNpzlx-3jh07aN6xnAZgVLxLbN4IGLU4L_vLqKSXWfj47tNydhOWIMBnocTvKoov9j9yVv3iA/s640/Picture118.png" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: medium;">
Cartoons paint eloquent visuals of a nurse’s life. There are so many stories to tell, sometimes sad, mostly funny. We cannot take things too seriously while at the workplace. For there is so much more that we can poke fun at. After a hard day’s work, we need to take a deep breath to remind ourselves why we go through the stress of taking care of others. <br />
<br />
Laughter is the best medicine, so they say. Laughter is a tonic that releases endorphins. It’s a feel-good chemical, a natural high. It is an antidote to a negative vibe. A chuckle is a start to a rumbling roar of a hearty, ROFL laugh. We should always share a smile, a chuckle, a giggle, a guffaw, and a belly laugh. Negative out, positive in. Leave the work drama behind. Come and draw a cartoon.<br /></span>
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More to see at: http://jocerrudosese.blogspot.com/<br />
Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5542214278693308717.post-3028301376417466472016-03-12T20:52:00.001-08:002023-08-08T09:45:39.960-07:00Dear Angela<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdd_JmYHzmYF4jVwAx2XDeqHst9La4mTJZrIT171vlK4QTCFn4fdnwFzun1X0FhcmaLWK7fA6EuX1d4FizI556KJwvRharbPQQnov0eTEs3deqKEk80-GeKJHdtwFPdyirFv__XjHvr8/s1600/12801487_10208706443875714_8229064075092757516_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpdd_JmYHzmYF4jVwAx2XDeqHst9La4mTJZrIT171vlK4QTCFn4fdnwFzun1X0FhcmaLWK7fA6EuX1d4FizI556KJwvRharbPQQnov0eTEs3deqKEk80-GeKJHdtwFPdyirFv__XjHvr8/s400/12801487_10208706443875714_8229064075092757516_n.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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Dear Angela,<br />
<br />
I would never know how your own family feels right now. I just know this is a difficult time for them.<br />
<br />
It shouldn’t be like this that our Elmhurst ED work family would see each other again. Not at your funeral. Old familiar faces returned to pay respect to you, one of our own. There was no joy at the unexpected reunion, just profound shock and melancholy at such a sad occasion.<br />
<br />
It was tough to say Goodbye. You’re gone too soon. I have always thought of you as fierce, vibrant, and invincible. The soldier and the nurse; you’re twice a hero. I am heartbroken.<br />
<br />
Wasn't it just yesterday when you came for your interview for an LPN position? I was impressed at how articulate and confident you were. Through all these years, you showed your strength, tenacity, and courage to finally get your RN license. As a soldier, as a nurse, and as a union representative, you were one tough cookie. I salute you. I just wish I had seen you one more time. Isn't it tragic that we always want to have that one more day to remember someone special?<br />
<br />
Someone said, “<i>Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal”</i>. I have many fond memories of you, Angela. You were an excellent nurse, a straight-shooter (no pun intended), firm yet compassionate, and meticulous yet with a wicked sense of humor. You were there at our parties, baby showers, retirements, birthdays, and summer picnics. I heard you suggested a summer picnic before your untimely death. Maybe you missed the fun and games; maybe you longed to play with your work family. <br />
<br />
Your Elmhurst “peeps” showed up in force, even those of us who have left to work elsewhere came back to share the grief. The White Rose Nightingale tribute was a poignant homage to your tremendous contribution to the department. After the nurses read the words to the poem "<i>She Was There</i>", they gently laid a rose on your reposed body. It was a touching image, especially with the nurses dressed in white and the military guards standing in attention next to your casket. You have made a difference in people's lives many times over, Angela. <br />
<br />
We've lost too many through the years. Kathy, Angel, Beckley, Ruthie, Siony from PAC, Derrick, Timmy, Kettly, Jennifer, Phyllis, Brad, and Dr. Neil Oster. There were two more who we lost, their names forgotten but their absence was nevertheless mourned. One was a new nurse who was a victim of domestic violence. Another one was a PA who took his own life. With every passing, our hearts break not only for the family but also for the co-workers they left behind. <br />
<br />
The ED is a challenging place to work at, but it has certainly brought us together. We struggled, we saved lives, we laughed, and we cried. We grieved for every single co-worker we lost. In the process of keeping our heads above water, we became a family. Nurses, doctors, PCTs, PAs, clerks, transporters, and many more. And Elmhurst, our home.<br />
<br />
And now you... You will be missed. More than you will ever know. My deepest sympathy to the Palmer family. <br /></span>
<br />
<br />
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Jo Cerrudohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00967976642125420750noreply@blogger.com0