Debbie Moore-Black is a nurse who blogs at Do Not Resuscitate.
He was in the Ivy League for med school. His dad was an MD, and they lived not too far from this small town. Daddy’s house, a “mini-mansion,” was right around the corner.
After successfully completing his residency, Dr. David became our ER physician. This was a big deal—a big fish in a little pond.
He had an aura of wealth about him. He had an arrogance about him, too.
He was new …
I could give you several examples of racism I have witnessed in my lifetime of nursing. But there is one incident that always comes up: Olisa.
Her name was passed down to her from her great-great-grandmother. Her name meant “God’s promise.”
Olisa came from a long line of nurses. Her great-great-grandmother was a nurse, nanny, and an enslaved person owned by some wealthy folks on their Southern plantation.
But the torch was passed …
We were reminiscing recently at a brunch we set up. It had been many years since we had seen each other. Eventually, we went our separate ways. But we reconnected once again.
Anna was one of our night shift nurses. She was bright and articulate. She eventually became a preceptor and mentor to many new ICU nurses.
The “night shifters” are on an island of their own. We form a special family, …
Over 30 years ago, this man began working for our hospital system.
He was assigned to our ICU/CVICU units. Though some health care employees hadn’t even been born yet, Charles was a tried and true “lifer.”
He was our housekeeper. And he was our friend — our family.
He was a man with energy and stamina. He was a hard worker. Relentless. He could spin circles around a pack of 20-year-olds put together.
His …
If mommy dearest only knew.
There I was, sitting in the banquet room — a room full of retired nurses celebrating with upper management. They were praising us for our retirement and praising us for our blood, sweat and tears and massive overtime hours with little to no potty breaks. They were praising us for our missed time with our families, like Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving.
It was nice.
With their white gloves, …
He was a tall, healthy psychiatric technician, experienced in his line of work. He was a CNA but wanted more. He wanted to help heal the troubled, forgotten, and neglected — behavioral health was his niche.
He would lead the way with therapy sessions in this group every day. This was Intensive management: the intermittent home for the paranoid schizophrenics, bipolar, and MDD.
They came in all shapes and sizes — wealthy, …
Maybe we need to educate upper management — those multi-million-dollar hospitals with multi-million dollars per year salaried CEOs and board members with their financial perks — that health care professionals and nurses during “Health Care Worker/Nurse Week” in May of each year are no longer in the second grade.
Maybe we need to remind “them” that we are college-educated health care professionals with degrees, like ADNs, BSN, MSNs, RNs, LPNs, educators, …
It was a known fact — I was 4′ 11″ but I had a mouth on me to compensate. I was loud and noisy. Fellow nurses called me the “rebel without a cause.”
But I had a cause.
I knew I was David against Goliath. Almost everything became my cause. And I verbally fought my way through this iron-clad management structure.
I had to fight for the betterment of the patients, their survival, …
I thought it would be easier than ICU nursing. After 33 years as an ICU nurse, I had to leave. I just couldn’t take the pounding on the chests of little old men and women. Hearing and feeling their ribs crack while CPR was performed. I couldn’t handle these poor patients who should have had a peaceful death when the inevitable was near.
Family members with expectations of miracles. Denial. Rationalization.
And …
It’s not what you think. It’s not my actual mortality.
It’s that emotional death.
Of being a nurse.
If you’ve never been a nurse. Then you will never know.
It’s that’s giving of yourself: heart and soul.
Constantly and forever.
It’s not being with your family for Easter or Thanksgiving or Christmas.
It’s not being able to go to the bathroom or even take a 30-minute break in 12 to 13 hours.
It’s being surrounded by bully nurses …
We are nurses. We are in highly dangerous and volatile units at hospitals. We are not working in a prison. We work in behavioral health. The intensive management unit, the adolescent unit, the dual-diagnosis unit, and the behavioral health emergency department.
We are specially trained to protect ourselves and others with CPI — a mandatory nonviolent crisis intervention training. We have patients who are schizophrenic, bipolar, drug addicts, with assault charges, …
Granny Rachel, my husband’s mother, was an old country soul. She was a simple lady who loved the Lord.
She accepted me with open arms when my own parents turned their backs on me.
Granny Rachel made the best sweet tea and the best homemade vegetable soup with cornbread and gave unconditional love to all.
She totaled two of her cars twice. Her son would check on her and found multiple candles lit …
The 911 call came too late. Her daughter was 32 years old and usually quite healthy. But she refused the COVID vaccinations. She said she took her vitamins and was healthy and that “God is my pilot” and “I don’t want toxins in my body.”
Her mother knew she was running a high fever. She knew she was short of breath frequently … until…
Her 10-year-old grandson couldn’t wake his momma up …
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“My body, my rights.”
“My body is a temple.”
“I don’t want poison going into my body.”
” I’ve done my research.”
And they refuse to wear masks; they refuse to social distance. They refuse COVID vaccinations and the booster. Essentially, they spit in the face of the population that trusts in science and medical research.
The disrespect and disregard for scientists, medical doctors, RNs and respiratory therapists are astonishing.
Their support groups tout ivermectin, hydroxychloroquine …
It became a prison to me — impending doom.
I knew I had only three months left before I could retire. Three months isn’t long, but it is a lifetime away.
That long drive to work in that heavy highway traffic where there was always a collision. The anxiety of the drive knowing all along there was even more anxiety to come.
The patients that were involuntarily committed — forever schizophrenics and bipolar, …
An executive father. Alcoholism. And that gallon of wine.
As I walked through the wine section at the grocery store, I spotted one of those gallon jugs of wine. I was searching for Christmas presents for my friends. But that brand glared at me.
Daddy — my IBM executive father.
We loved him so. But year by year, his demons took over. Every night, there was a gallon of wine. On weekends, he’d …
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Along came COVID, and no one was prepared. We had minimal PPE. We were told to put our N95 mask in a paper bag, use it on every patient, and use it for one full week. Normally the N95 mask would be disposed of after each patient room exit.
Health care staff was dying at the hands of COVID and lack of PPE. Over 115,000 health care workers died from COVID. …
He was the middleman — the man that took the crack cocaine from the main guy, the drug dealer and then sold it to his “clients” and kept a percentage of the money for himself and the rest to the dealer.
It was a fine-tuned operation. You could make a lot of money. But you had to be precise, or else.
The patient was a tall, slim 20-something man. He had a …
In Catholic elementary school, we sat at our school desks, and the nuns had us pray for the lost souls in purgatory every day.
If we prayed hard enough, we would pray them out of purgatory and lift them into heaven.
Before I clock in, I say my anti-assault prayers to the gods. I pray for safety. I pray for the next 12 hours to be uneventful.
I thought I would give ICU …
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Working day after day, year after year, in a busy high acuity ICU, we all have become a “second family.”
The public doesn’t hear much about respiratory therapists, especially during this COVID nightmare. But they have been the unsung heroes.
So who are the respiratory therapists, and what do they do?
Respiratory therapists are specialized health care professionals trained in critical care and cardio-pulmonary medicine. They work therapeutically with people suffering from acute …
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