I. Am. Retired.

This is it. End of shift last July 23, 2025. I. Am. Retired.

I waited one month to write this post. I took the time to reflect on this moment, which I have been waiting for since I stepped on American soil 42 years ago. I needed to savor the significance of this career milestone: being suddenly freed from the rigors of waking up early, sitting in traffic, driving through icy roads, and having to hold my tongue to maintain peace. I wanted to sit in the space of reflection, to marinate the concept of retirement in my mind, and to drink in the wonderment that finally the time has come to hang up my lab coat.

Two years ago, my friends opted for early retirement, often enticing me with pictures of their travels, but I was not ready to let go. My work gave me a sense of purpose (aside from my family). My work friends filled my head with compliments about my guidance and mentorship, and my students’ feedback was both satisfying and encouraging; they even urged me to post on TikTok, especially when I used the analogy of dysfunctional romantic relationships to teach heart blocks.

Frankly, the thought of retirement scared me. “How will I spend my day? Would I lose my mind with boredom? Would my muscles weaken from non-activity? Would my brain cells shrivel up for lack of mental stimulation?”

The epiphany that it was time for retirement sneaked up on me. I was feeling energized after a vacation in the Philippines, and I realized that I wanted to travel the world more than I ever did. My college classmates, most of them retired, regaled me with their travel stories. For our 45^th anniversary since graduation in 1980, the BSN class of Arellano University College of Nursing was preparing to have our reunion in Norway.

I was also mesmerized by some painting vlogs on Instagram. My Facebook algorithms shifted to drawings and instructions on acrylics, watercolor, and gouache mediums. I realized that I wanted to pursue my long-dormant artistic side. My Renaissance area beckons me.

Retirement is a milestone, a gift, a blessing that is often denied to others. It is taking control of my narrative and choosing how to live my life, when, what, and how at my leisure. 

 

Bookends of my professional life

In January 1983, I was young, naïve, and eager. Fresh from my stint with the Philippine National Red Cross, I embarked on my nursing career in New York City with stars in my eyes and dreams in my heart. I was ready to conquer the nursing world.

I made a meme of my younger self as I stood on the grounds of Roosevelt Island 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.”

After working at Coler Memorial Hospital, I began my career in Emergency Nursing at Elmhurst Hospital Center, Maimonides Medical Center, Mount Sinai Morningside, and then St. John’s Hospital. I must be a glutton for punishment, or maybe an adrenaline-junkie. Perhaps I needed to channel my nervous energy into the high-stakes patient care. Life was never dull, never placid, never predictable. The word “Quiet” jinxes everything, and whoever uttered that word would be ostracized for the rest of the shift.

I have many stories to share, some of which were featured in two memoirs that I published. What a journey it has been. I am humbled by the opportunity to care for all the patients that I met and to work with strong, gracious, and compassionate colleagues along the way.

Before I officially retired, the staff at St. John’s Episcopal Hospital threw me a surprise party. The Nursing Professional Development educators organized a celebration attended by nursing leadership and staff from various units. It was my special "Lollipop moment". A “lollipop moment” is when someone said something or did something that fundamentally made your life better.

As I walked down the colorful path, each person handed me a lollipop. In my classes, I have encouraged my students to remember the impact they have on their patients and coworkers. I also encouraged them to reach out to those special people who have made an impact on their lives, as introduced by Drew Dudley in his TED Talk, by giving them lollipops.

Imagine getting my lollipops and receiving notes of thanks from everyone. I love, love, love the Lollipop moment notes and the touching words from everyone. Priceless!

https://www.facebook.com/100000202167830/videos/pcb.25096204806636245/1276051227389132

 

Thank you for the memories

I am grateful for the experiences that have shaped me into the nurse I am today. I stumbled along the way, but through it all, I rose even stronger. No longer a fumbling neophyte, I am a confident nurse who knows I have succeeded on my terms. I don't define my success by other people's definitions. I am proud of how I have metamorphosed from a novice to an expert, mainly due to the lessons I have learned along the way.

As I rose from the ranks into leadership and educator positions, I stood on the shoulders of those who came before me, and in turn, I extended my support to those who came after me. As an ER nurse, I navigated the psychological landmines by focusing on the emotional rewards, which strengthened me, even through the pandemic's challenges.  I found my joy in nursing by being mindful and intentional in seeking those serotonin boosters and mood lifters. I fought burnout by acknowledging the impact and influence of nurses in the lives of our patients, even though we sometimes may not get the instant gratification and appreciation from them.

I am an unapologetically sentimental person, which I inherited from my father and passed on to my son. I treasure the memories and appreciate the messages and remembrances from my colleagues and the other staff nurses. Over the years, I have collected messages and emails from those who acknowledged my contributions. In moments of self-doubt, they reinforced my “Why”. 

Please indulge me when I include some of these kind words:

“As a novice educator, you took me under your wings and provided guidance, mentorship, and encouragement that I am so appreciative of.  Thank you for always providing a listening ear and giving constructive feedback that continues to guide my career.”

“I have been holding on to you tightly since I joined EHS, and you have welcomed me with open arms. I am honored to say that I have received guidance and support from THE Jocelyn Sese.”

“Your dedication to EHS has been instrumental in elevating our nursing care and fostering a positive shift in our culture. You've set a remarkable example for all nurse leaders to aspire to. Personally, your guidance has been a great source of validation for me, ensuring I'm on the right path.”

“I want you to know that I truly couldn’t have reached this milestone without the solid foundation I gained during our two weeks of didactic training with you. Today, I’m able to confidently speak the language of critical care, relying less on my usual hand gestures and more on solid clinical communication. I am living proof of the impact you’ve made on the next generation of nurses.”

Post-retirement Life

When someone asked me what the first thing I would do when I retire, I answered without hesitation that I would attend the solo concert of Jin of BTS in New Jersey. The Jin concert at the Prudential Center in New Jersey on July 31 is my gift to myself for retirement. Jin was excellent; he did not phone in his performance, but gave it his all, with bulging neck veins and exposed deltoids, too. Mr. WorldWide Handsome winked, smirked sexily, and blew us his trademark kiss. I am eagerly awaiting the reunion of the 7-member supergroup BTS for a concert next year.

Retirement checklist:

•    Attend our 45^th class reunion with my BSN group in Norway and a cruise (from August 24 through September 6)
•    Complete the “Art with Suzanne” online course, start painting, and explore the creative process
•    Travel more and write more travelogues.
•    Attend more music concerts and Broadway shows.
•    Swimming lessons so that I can snorkel and dive on my next vacation
•    Finish my BTS Lego set, continue crossword and jigsaw puzzles for my mental exercise
•    Write my third book
•    Write, write, write
•     Read, read, read
•    Consider other Social Media platforms and learn more about Artificial Intelligence tools.

 (Psst: I do have some teaching gigs waiting for me after my Norway vacation. Cannot just go cold turkey. Need to wean myself.)

 The Final Curtain

The final curtain has closed. As Frank Sinatra sang, “Regrets, I've had a few. But then again, too few to mention. I did what I had to do and saw it through without exception. I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway. And more, much more than this, I did it my way”.

What a journey it has been. I am proud to be a bad-ass nurse.

I am ready to live my best encore. Bring it on.

 

 

 

Joy on the Horizon

 

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.

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.

An instant mood-lifter. A much-needed Serotonin-booster. A joyful welcome to a new day. A million-dollar view.

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.

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. 

In the movie Collateral, 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.

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.

At one of my classes with the nurses, I shared with them the photo album that I titled "Joy-triggers" (aside from my family):

• Pictures of sunrises and sunsets.
• Fall foliage.
• My favorite singers.
• Other random images that make me smile.

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.

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 Thank You cards from the children. 

I still treasure those cards, to this day. 

My Happy Pictures: Mood-lifters

https://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2022/11/my-happy-pictures-mood-lifters.html

 

Nursing, Thirty-one Years Ago…

Nursing, thirty-one years ago…

Like a cliché, it seems only like yesterday. But one only has to look at the hands wrinkled by countless handwashings, it orientates me to the fact that “Man, I have been a nurse for a very long time”.

I am a nurse educator, so I welcome new nurses to the fold. I do not get threatened by the generation gap because I am energized by new knowledge and technology. It is an exciting time for a nurse today with advanced medicine, electronic documentation, and nurse empowerment.

But I do feel protective of the special gift that senior /seasoned nurses bring to the table. The experience of thirty-one years has not only made me stronger clinically but has also given me a better perspective of the impact of these nurses on the patients who will only benefit from knowledge earned through hard work and determination.

I truly support the tremendous contribution that the seasoned nurses have given to the profession, and they will play an important role in guiding the new nurses today to realize their full potential. Sadly, there is a sense of "entitlement" on both sides. There should be a better way to bridge the gap between generations. Patients do not really care what the nurse's highest academic degree is as long as they get compassionate care from the nurse.

Having learned from my mistakes, I respect myself even more today. Unencumbered by false modesty, I can proudly and humbly say that I am a damn good nurse, not because of any advanced degree but because I learned patient-centered care long before it became a buzzword.

Thirty-one years ago, I stepped into Coler Memorial Hospital on a cold January morning. Our group of young Filipino nurses newly flown to New York was culture-shocked. I thought that our patients spoke with difficult accents, all slang yet full of grammatical errors. I was convinced that the doctors misspelled their orders and were insulted when we questioned duplicate medications.

Our nursing supervisors towered over us with doubt written on their faces. They probably were wondering how these naïve, young women could stand up to the bossy LPNs who used to rule the roost. We were usurpers to the throne. We didn’t know any better and how dare we come to this place expecting to find our way into their nursing world.

But dared we did. We held our own, learned the slang, and worked our way to earn the respect. Not only by our supervisors but mostly by our patients who delighted in our enthusiasm and compassion. My supervisor Ms. Covington used to challenge me to go beyond my comfort zone. Somehow the patients who were abandoned in our care became our own grandparents. We held their hands and listened to their nostalgic remembrances of lives spent caring for their loved ones. We dried their tears just as we dried our own tears of loneliness for families left behind in the Philippines.

“You’re my favorite, Cerrudo.”, one of the chronic dialysis patients rewarded me with this one day. I quickly bragged to my friends about how I finally won over the most difficult patient in the unit. My friends did not even give me time to relish my victory; Sessa told them the same thing last week. I was Sessa’s favorite at that time because I had given her an extra ice cream.

My first unit was the Medical ICU. One part was the chronic ventilator unit where patients remained attached to ventilators; we became experts with trache care, suctioning, and communicating with our patients the best way we could.

Mr. Alston used to clench his jaw and blink his eyes three times if he wanted things done. One bedridden patient could only give a lop-sided smile if we positioned him right. Mrs. Richards frowned if we didn’t tuck her bedsheets right and gave us thumbs up when we did. Young Alli smiled at everything we did for her, as we wiped the drool on her neck, cleaned her trache, and brushed the tangles on her hair. I massaged the contracted feet of my ALS patient who continued to have a vibrant mind while his body wasted away.

The patients were our family… and every time one passed away, we cried with the rest of the staff. Most of the time, the nurses were the only ones who grieved their passing because the families had long abandoned them.

Two years later, I was promoted to a head nurse position in a general med-surg unit with 40 patients. I took my share of duties as part of functional nursing. There was usually one medication nurse who started and finished the day by giving meds with printed medication cards; from the back to the front of the unit where meds were given through gastrostomy tubes. Another nurse and I worked with a group of two nurses’ aides as we fed, bathed, exercised, and walked the patients. At 3 p.m., we started our narrative charting, our notes the same every day except for the vital signs and whether patients had bowel movements or not.

Thankfully, the technology and staffing got much better. The suction EKG bulbs were horrendous and left their distinct marks on our patients’ frail chests, the yucky gel too difficult to clean off. The manual mercury sphygmomanometer is now a thing of the past, now it’s just a button to push on the automatic cardiac monitor and we get veritable data of riches: BP, HR, oxygen saturation, MAP, endtidal CO2.

Gone are the medication cards, those 2-by-2 index cards with hand-written transcription of medication orders, and the dosage times written in black, green, and red. Gone are the Kardexes with nursing diagnoses that never changed. Gone are the hand-written doctor’s orders that were meant to confuse.

Back then, I was new, nervous, and unsure of my place in this world. Thirty-one years after I first stepped on American soil, I am still convinced that Nursing has given me valuable lessons along the way. That the rewards of nursing far exceed the material blessings. The compassion I have shown my patients was the greatest gift I could have given them.

And now, as a clinical adjunct professor and a clinical nurse specialist, I try to impress my students and nurses to remember why they chose this profession. I celebrate their need to explore new boundaries and to push the envelope but I remind them, as well as the seasoned nurses, to embrace their similarities and learn from each other.

When the patient needs a hand, it doesn’t matter if the hand that is offered is that of a baby boomer or a millennial. At the end of the day, the patients will remember a nurse who gave them the respect that they deserve.

Through the nurses I teach, I wish that a compassionate nurse lives on.

"My Firsts... as a Nurse in the US"- http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-firsts-as-nurse-in-us.html

Colorful World of Patients

It is a colorful world of patients out there. Maybe it is man’s attempt to provide some levity in an otherwise depressing state of being a patient.

Colorful disease names were used, partly to describe some of the symptoms in yellow fever, scarlet fever, and blackwater fever.

If you make the horrible mistake of running intravenous Vancomycin too fast, you might as well prepare yourself for the rush of red on your patient's face. Experience the "Red Man syndrome". Of course, you would be turning red too as you realize that you just made a major boo-boo.



“Calming fabric colors, patterns and textures create an ambiance much desired in health-care settings, from surgery waiting rooms to newborn intensive care to psych units. Ever since a 1985 study that showed that a specific color, Baker-Miller pink, reduced aggression among prison inmates and patients in mental-health institutions, designers have been seeking a look that soothes and subdues the stressed.”
http://fabricarchitecturemag.com/articles/0108_maside1_color.html




And that is why, we'll never ever find a hospital room painted in vivid, vibrant colors. Just think of how the color red enrages a bull. Ole!





"Chromhidrosis is an extremely rare condition that causes a person to excrete colored sweat. It can come from either of the two types of sweat glands, but the common thread is that the colored sweat is produced in the gland. Apocrine chromhidrosis results in only yellow, green, blue, black and brown sweat. "
http://health.howstuffworks.com/skin-care/problems/medical/chromhidrosis.htm

The nurse who sweated red in the above article was not particularly stressed out on the job, but the culprit was discovered to be a packaged food that contained tomato powder and paprika..



I never knew the color "amber" until I got into nursing school. Since then, I've seen a rainbow of urine colors.

Red or pink urine
• Blood- UTIs, enlarged prostate, cancerous and noncancerous tumors, kidney cysts, long-distance running, and kidney or bladder stones
• Foods: Beets, blackberries, and rhubarb
• Medications: Rifampine, Phenazopyridine (Pyridium), and laxatives containing senna
• Toxins- Chronic lead or mercury poisoning


Orange urine
• Medications: anti-inflammatory drug sulfasalazine (Azulfidine), Phenazopyridine (Pyridium), some laxatives, and certain chemo drugs
• Medical conditions: Liver or bile duct diseases, and dehydration

Dark-brown or tea-colored urine
• Foods: Fava beans, rhubarb, or aloe
• Medications: antimalarial drugs, chloroquine and primaquine, metronidazole, nitrofurantoin, laxatives containing cascara or senna, and methocarbamol
• Medical conditions: Liver and kidney disorders

Blue or green urine
• Dyes: Brightly colored food dyes, diagnostic dyes used for kidney and bladder function tests
• Medical conditions: Familial hypercalcemia, a rare inherited disorder, sometimes called blue diaper syndrome and urinary tract infections caused by pseudomonas bacteria.
http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/urine-color/DS01026/DSECTION=causes

“Another cause of blue-green urine is Methylene Blue which was till now known mainly as a dye but is now entering into the field of cardiac surgery and critical care as a very important therapeutic agent with diverse applications. The evidence for its use in methemoglobinemia is well established but that for its use in vasoplegia, septic shock, hepatopulmonary syndrome, malaria, ifosfamide neurotoxicity etc is limited but promising and commands more research.”
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3087269/

“The procedure of intra-articular injection of methylene blue is an easy and safe way to identify disruption of the joint capsule and may facilitate early intervention. Intra-articular injection of methylene blue that demonstrates extravasation of dye from the wound site is highly suggestive for open joint injury.”
http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/114453-overview


Who says Nursing is not a colorful profession?

Nurse of the Future, 2025

SEPTEMBER 2025

It's time to say goodbye to her 'virtual' nursing cap. Dr. Jade Marciano is ready to hang up her stethoscope, finally. After all, she had been working as a nurse for 42 years now. After completing her Doctorate of Nursing Practice degree 10 years ago, she had moved on to the executive leadership position in the hospital.

“Hi, Tita Jade. I will miss your daily stops.” Her niece Charlene gave her a quick buzz on the cheek before she ran over to the ambulance ramp to meet the EMS trauma notification. Charlene is the senior nurse practitioner on duty.

Nurse practitioners had finally been integrated into the fabric of ED care. It had taken years of resistance from the medical community, but after the exorbitant malpractice insurance costs had driven down enrollment in medical schools, the emergency attending physicians had begrudgingly accepted the NPs to practice alongside the EM residents.

Dr. Jade chuckled at the thought of one clueless senatorial what’s-her-name candidate who had tried to belittle the nurses in her native country by implying that the student nurses could get by with limited education. Her concept of “room nurses” had angered the Filipino nurses, and she eventually lost the election in 2013. In her wildest imagination, she probably did not even think that nurses would even rise in stature even more.

The 2010 Institute of Medicine’s landmark report had been quite a revelation in its success. The hospital had achieved an unprecedented 100% BSN-prepared nursing staff, belying the prediction of a nursing shortage by 2020. A remarkable 35% of the ED RNs has Masters’ degree, and had been utilized as Senior Staff Nurses 5th level, with expanded responsibilities as patient care navigators and evidence-based practice advocates. The ED administration had wisely adjusted their staff by providing more Patient Care Techs and other ancillary staff to offset the higher salaries of these advanced practice RNs.

Dr. Jade is a prime example of the IOM’s vision. She was trailblazer in her profession, having collaborated with the physicians to introduce new care initiatives. She agreed that the public’s and medical community’s perception of nurses had greatly been turned around when faced with more educated nurses.

“Trauma Team, Resus 51”, a melodic announcement interrupted Dr. Jade’s thoughts. A patient from a multi-vehicular accident had just been wheeled by EMS, with a mechanical compressor performing CPR on the bloodied patient. There was no time for an intubation in the field.

In the age of microchips, only the most privacy-concerned patient would have an unknown medical history. The triage nurse bar-scanned the patient’s wrist and soon the patient’s recent medical history was displayed on a medical I-Pad Patient Screen under the cardiac monitor. The patient was an open book, a reality (and a necessity) in Big Brother's world.

Mr. C was a 35 year-old man with an AICD from a cocaine-induced cardiomyopathy. The EM-NP quickly deactivated the AICD. A glove EKG remained on the patient’s torso, a far cry from the bulb-suction EKG electrodes of Dr. Jade’s student years.

The ED attending wrapped a DBAC (Deep Bleeder Acoustic Coagulation) cuff on the patient’s upper arm to seal an arterial bleed. The trauma surgeon then activated the ultrasound zap to coagulate the severed vessel. The nurse had started her Trauma Bleed cocktail- Tranexamic acid (antifibrinolytic), Kefpush (an IV push antibiotic) , and Tetanus toxoid.

The EM-NP also had started an intraosseus line and gave a Blood Substitute polyheme on the accident scene; a necessary intervention in a depleted Blood Bank supply. There was no need for cross-matching; no chance for a transfusion reaction.

The ED attending stopped the compressor to check for the pulse. The patient pulse was steady and bounding, Sinus tachycardia was reflected on a sleek touch screen. The patient was still unconscious and was having labored breathing.

“BP 90/62, HR-120, O2 sat 92% on 100% non-rebreather.”, the nurse announced just loud enough to be heard by the Trauma Team, as well as to record the vitals on the lapel mike that was attached to her Dragoneer Head set. The hands-free device allows her to tape her assessments while she assists with patient care. As soon as she would have the time, she would review then accept the recordings on her own hospital-issued mobile phone to be written into the permanent electronic chart. Most of the nurses preferred the mike than typing into their mobile device.

NP Charlene assisted the Trauma resident in intubation and administered the dosage-controlled bar-coded RSI meds via the brachial line, and soon the resident inserted a Glidescope for easy tracheal intubation.

“ETT to vent, Tidal volume 500, F1O2 100%, AC rate 0f 16”. The trauma nurse continued to intone into her mike, as the respiratory therapist connected the endotracheal tube to the new compact-sized three-pound portable ventilator.

The trauma nurse had sent the blood tubes on the Chute to Lab, but gave the smaller sample tube to the Patient Care Tech for bedside testing.

The Patient Care Tech keyed in the results of point-of-care hematocrit, lactate and basic metabolic panel and transmitted the results on the Patient Screen. The ED attending reviewed the trended results, and nodded with satisfaction on the improved hematocrit level.

The Trauma attending brought out his newest gadget to show off, a hand-held body ultrasound scanner to check on a possible aortic dissection or any vaso-aneurysm. There was none, and suppressing a disappointed sigh, he called for the x-ray technician to come into the room.

The technician turned on the switch and the portable multi-purpose x-ray/MRI scanner lowered down from the ceiling. A series of clicks and lights emanated from the machine, creating a surreal glow around the patient.

A lacerated liver was displayed on the Patient Screen. Snapping to attention, a gaggle of trauma residents started to disconnect the patient from the cardiac monitor.

Even with the sophisticated and ultra-modern technology, the doctors still did not know how to calmly prepare the patient for transport, without unhooking the wrong tubes and tangling the IV lines. In their haste, they just wasted precious time. The nurses quickly took over, and finally declared the patient ready to go.

It all happened in twenty minutes, and off to the OR did the patient go. The RFID tracker recorded the patient’s move.

An audible decrease in the decibel and excitement level in the ED coincided with the patient’s transfer. And soon, the ED was back to its usual non-trauma frenetic pace.

Dr. Jade surveyed the newly-renovated ED, and decided that she will again propose more beds to be added. The patient daily census still remained in the 500s because of more hospital closings. The medical scene would remain a challenge.

Back at her corner Penthouse office, Dr. Jade enjoyed a 180-view of Brooklyn and Manhattan. It is a good feeling to have gone through it all. She had emerged triumphant.

From a simple nursing student in the Philippines in the late 70’s, where the students used to help sterilize the glass syringes and needles,, make their own cotton balls, reuse most supplies, and carry the metal patient charts for the doctors with their superior airs.

When she moved to the United States in the early 1980’s, she was thrust into a chronic care hospital. With 40 patients under her care, she was introduced to functional nursing. Most times, she gave out meds with only a 2x2 index card with transcribed hand-written medication orders.

In the 1990’s, she entered the world of emergency nursing and she was hooked. It was a world in transition. The nurses had to prove themselves against some medical doctors who could not believe that nurses should have a voice.

The 2000s was a year for innovations, and medical breakthroughs. Electronic charting decreased medical errors. And nursing was poised to take bigger roles in hospital leadership. In 2012, she started her Simulation journey. Now, all her nurses prepare for real-life nursing with mandatory intensive simulation experience in the state-of-the-art Sim Lab..

Now, in 2025, the transformed nursing workforce had fulfilled its promise to take a much-deserved equal acknowledgement from the public. Somehow, the world had embraced the new and expanded roles of the nurse. An empowered nurse.

Yes, it’s time to retire and hit the beaches with Max, her doctor-husband, 12 years her junior.

FIRST BOOK

I am so happy to announce that my FIRST BOOK is now available for purchase. Please share among your friends. This is not just for nursing or for Filipinos. This is for all of you with dreams in their hearts. This is my lifelong dream, finally realized.



http://www.amazon.com/Nursing-Vignettes-Jocelyn-Cerrudo-Sese/dp/1477614362/ref=sr_1_66?ie=UTF8&qid=1343996451&sr=8-66&keywords=tatay+jobo+elizes

Excerpt from my Introduction:

In 1980, as I lit the candle at my pinning ceremony, my heart was brimming with excitement for the future. In my imagination lived a nurse whose hands touched lives and whose compassion made a difference.

Nursing in America is a delightful journey into independence and self-fulfillment. As a young nurse living thousands of miles away from family, life was filled with challenges to both my personal and professional lives. Like countless other Filipino nurses working abroad, I have carved my own little niche in my chosen profession.

More than ever, I realize how fortunate I am to belong to a service profession that is most definitely and infinitesimally life-affirming and emotionally rewarding.

My life is enriched with the fascinating vignettes that gave meaning to the long hours and hard work.

I have lived my mother's dreams, which had become mine as well.

Here is my other dream, a book that chronicles some of those stories that make me proud to be a nurse. This is my journey as a Filipino nurse in America. But my stories of life as an ER nurse reflect what any other nurse had gone through.

We only need to believe in ourselves.

Dream some more.

Have faith.

Update: 8/11/2012

Yes, we've been #1 for several days now on the Amazon Hot New Releases chart.

Till We Meet Again

What a journey it has been.

I said I will only be staying for two years. Like all others before me, I stayed longer and now it took twenty-one years for me to leave this place that I have grown to love. Elmhurst grabbed my heart and refused to let go.

It is a lifetime of memories. Through the years, we've created a kaleidoscope of special moments and bonded with a team of nurses, doctors, and support staff. Together, we've pulled through stressful times of overwhelming patient volume, poor staffing and personal differences.

I looked around the ED and marveled at the changes in the landscape, both in the physical environment and in the personnel who staff the ED day and night. The ED had changed but what remains true is that we are entrusted the responsibility of caring for others who are more vulnerable and unfortunate than us. To be able to spend your life in service of others is a blessing.

I started as a novice ED nurse who trembled every time I heard the red EMS notification phone ring and evolved to be a confident and knowledgeable nurse due to my multi-faceted Elmhurst experience. What's more important to me is the knowledge that I have made a difference.

Thank you for being a part of my journey. I will forever treasure the shared reminiscences and your kind words and expressions of support. It makes me happy to be appreciated by those who matter.

And now it is time to explore the world beyond these four walls and to create more memories in another hospital as their new clinical nurse specialist. Although I will be leaving a piece of my heart, I know that this new road will bring new opportunities for professional growth for me. If I made it here, I can make it anywhere.

To paraphrase Oprah, No sadness from me, I look forward to the next chapter in my life.

And when our paths will cross again, I expect to get a tight hug from you. Till we meet again.

Letting Go

(Excerpt from my published article)

Redefining 'survival' in a profession that does so much business with death.




I remember when I was still untouched by death-when I was a child who believed in immortality and invincibility. It all changed when I became a nurse and came face to face with the harsh realities of death. Suddenly, the finality of it forced me to see us as the mortals we are. I dealt with my patients' dying by maintaining a "qué será será" attitude. It didn't mean losing my humanity; it didn't mean that I cared less for my patients. It just meant survival for me in a profession that sees a lot of suffering and death.

Until Mr. C came to the ED to die.

It was a warm spring day, and on Bed 3 *Mr. Contreras lay dying. Brain cancer with metastases-and the devastation of the disease was finally taking its toll on his 80-year-old body. He was unconscious, but a single tear clung to his right eyelashes.

The ED staff knew him as one of our "frequent fliers." He liked to be called "Abuelo"-Grandpa. He was always pleasant, even when he was in pain. His wife, Rosa, was a proud and feisty woman, and a bit protective of her husband. She used to complain to hospital administration that we were slow in giving him pain medication. "Why can't you give him more attention?" she grumbled.

Now, Rosa sat with hunched shoulders at the bedside. She looked tired and resigned. Her face reflected her fears; her eyes, unspoken misery.

The cardiac nurse told me that the family had signed the DNR papers. Marco, the couple's only child, stood vigil on the opposite side of the bed, gently caressing his father's wrinkled forehead. His face was in agony, but I sensed a quiet strength within him. He would need it now.

I tried to leave to give the family some privacy, but Rosa held on to me with her other hand. "We've said our good-byes. Now I'm letting him go. He wants to die in peace. We're all ready now." Rosa's voice quivered. I nodded because I knew that Marco had reconciled with his father four months ago after a long estrangement.

The intravenous line was removed. The patient wore a clean white shirt. The Foley catheter was discontinued. We all stared in silence at the flickering cardiac monitor, mesmerized by the even graceful strokes. Sinus bradycardia ... pulse 50 and thready. BP steadily going down ... now barely palpable at 70 systolic ... respirations shallow. Abuelo was at the threshold.

The numbers held our attention. Heart rate 40 ... 34 ... 29 ... then asystole. The ED resident shook her head. A gasp escaped from Marco, and Rosa broke into sobs. I stood transfixed as a life ebbed away and the single tear rolled down Abuelo's cheek. His face stunned me. I expected to see suffering, but instead I marveled at a face that in death looked peaceful, almost ethereal. He died in peace, surrounded by love.

Rosa hugged and kissed her husband of 50 years. I tried to say something that I knew would comfort no one but me, but there was a lump in my throat. I just hugged her and we cried together for this wonderful man whose life had made such a difference. "Thank you for everything," Rosa finally said. Mother and son then walked away to begin a new life, and I said a silent prayer for the family.

I remember them to this day, several years later. I hope that their memories of togetherness sustained them through their grief. And I'm thankful that it was a quiet day in the ED, and that I had time to listen and to grieve. From them, I learned what strength there is in just letting go.


* Names were changed. http://journals.lww.com/ajnonline/fulltext/1998/08000/letting_go_of_abuelo.44.aspx