Reply With QuoteMy Amazing Journey
So. I have to say that my first OB clinical experience was like crashing in a foreign country. Babies. Babies everywhere! I don't know what they want! Let alone what they need! What if I hurt one! What if I, oh-please-Lord-NO! DROP one!!
You see, I have no children of my own. My nieces and nephews are my age. Even though they've had children, they're all so far away. The very idea of being responsible for something that tiny and dependent absolutely scared me to death!
Know what I found out? ….Those little critters are pretty darn forgiving! Apparently, no one informed them that I was dumber than a sack of hair when it comes to babies! They honestly had no idea! There I am wrapping measuring tapes around their little heads and chests, sticking things where things aren't meant to be stuck, folding those tiny little ears flat for no other purpose than to see if they spring back!, and, well, the list goes on. I've resorted to torturing helpless little babies and they just look at me like…….."Go on, you can do this! It's for my own good. I trust'ya!"
I'm surly going to hell………sigh….
Just when I think I may survive having caused minimal therapy expenses down the road for unsuspecting parents, I'm informed that I must now give them shots. SHOTS! I, who within 3 or 4 hours, have become the epitome of expertise in infant care, having gained admiration and respect from every patient in this room, must now administer a needle to a virtually nonexistent leg muscle!
Wait!......I must not have done it right! That darn baby is looking at me as though I've done nothing! No tears, no crying, no "HEY! WHAT'D I DO TO DESERVE THAT!!!" Just, "OK, close that little round door on your way out. It's getting a little drafty in here and I'm going back to sleep…check ya later.." Babies! Go figure…
OK, so I've made it through my first experience of my OB clinical. Not too darn shabby, if I do say so myself! HAH! I can do this! Next week, I'm gonna really blow'em away.
Next week arrives, and ……wait!...I'm not going back in the nursery? I'm going WHERE! To do WHAT!? (Our Father, who art in Heaven………)
I'm ushered into a room where this poor girl in her 20s is in bed holding onto her stomach as though it's going into launch count-down. She does NOT look like she's having a good time. I, in all my wisdom, think "Isn't she suppose to be glowing? Isn't this the happiest time of her life? She sho'don't LOOK like she's tittering on the brink of ecstasy!" Over in the corner, sitting uncomfortably in an already uncomfortable-looking chair is the equally young daddy-to-be. Well, at least he looks a little happier than that poor swollen creature in that really strange bed.
My assigned RN, Pat (incidentally, God IS a woman. And she's Pat.), introduces me to the young couple about to have their first child. "Hello. (I have no idea what I'm doing here. This is all a huge misunderstanding, you see…….I signed on to care for OLD people! Please don't be mad at the hospital. It's not their fault. Oh, and don't be mad at the school. They're doing the best with me that they can. Oh, God, help these poor people. They think I KNOW stuff!) I'm here to do your bidding."
Why are they just looking at me like that? Why aren't either of them saying anything? Pat whispers something in my ear. Huh? WHAT'D'YA MEAN THEY DON'T SPEAK ENGLISH!!! I don't even speak "hospital" and now I'm suppose to assist in getting these folks through the most traumatic time of their (ok, MY) life and they don't speak ENGLISH?!!?. WAIT! PAT!....WHERE ARE YOU GOING? YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE! What do you MEAN, you've got other patients? Let'em get their own nurse! I….er, they..this couple needs you in HERE! PLEASE! TAKE ME WITH YOU………("Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death……..")
Les, I learn, is Daddy's name. Mommy is Ericka. This is their first baby, but, Les isn't worried. He's got nieces and nephews and younger siblings. He's a pro. (Wait!.... If he doesn't speak English, …..) Les, as it turns out, thinks his English is very poor, but he's really very good at it! Of course, it's sad that he totally misses my witty repartee. Oh well, it's probably not all that witty, anyway.
At roughly 8:30am (that's 0830 in "hospital-speak"), Ericka is dilated to 4 centimeters, 60% effaced, and the baby is at -1. Now, for all of the unfortunate people who don't have my extensive training, that means we've got DAYYYYYS before this baby is coming! I bide my time, wiping Ericka's face with a cold rag, rubbing her feet, checking the monitoring straps positions, and getting coffee for Les. They've given her some Nubain, so she's pretty much just sleeping through the contractions. Les is paying homage to the cellular company. He apparently has quite a list of relatives he's to inform that the moment is almost at hand. Poor Les. He has no idea that it's gonna be HOURS…. Me, I'm thinking about the salad bar down in the cafeteria.
The anesthesiologist comes in to administer the epidural that Les and Ericka have decided to take advantage of.
He admonishes Les to sit! Now! Normally, he would ask Les to leave the room, he informs me, but he needs him to translate. Les cowers in the chair and as I turn back to the event at hand, the anesthesiologist looks up at me and asks if I know why he was so adamant about Les sitting. ("Cuz you're mean and rude?") "Because, he has less distance to fall and crack his head open when he sees the needle I'm about to insert into this wife's back!" ok…..pretty clever. Never would'a thought of that. So I turn around and give Les a conspiratory wink. No need, though, he's fine.
As the epidural is administered, this darn doctor keeps asking me questions! Do I know where he's putting the needle? Do I know WHY he's putting it there? Why this space instead of that space? All this, while my mind left the room with Pat and failed to return with her! I get a couple of answers out correctly and he either decides he's punished me enough for being born or just gives up. He completes the epidural with no further embarrassment on my part.
The "ping" of the baby's heartbeat has been constantly in the background throughout the morning. It's almost become unnoticeable. But now, it's noticeable. Noticeably slowed! I look at the monitor and see 101….95….92…80... Pat quite calmly tells me to get the wall oxygen ready at 10L. The anesthesiologist is preparing another injection. Epinephrine. I pull the sealed bag from the green wall port and open it. ACCHH! It's a mask! I've only done nasal canullae! How does this thing go? Calm down. Think back to lab. It's not brain surgery! Oh, OK, this fits on here, this goes on there, turn the dial…Oh, God! Is there a switch or anything I have to flip? No, I hear the hiss from the mask. I did it! Pat reaches to take the mask from me after she's adjusted Ericka on her left side.
Pat puts the mask on Ericka and , POOF! The baby's heart rate returns to the 130s to 140s and remains normal. Pat goes on about her business. The anesthesiologist nonchalantly packs up and says "Call me if you need me" over his shoulder to Pat, and leaves.
LEAVES!
OK! WHOA!!! Hold it right here! Did we not just have a crisis? I mean, isn't this where we all freeze and look at each other while we break to commercial?
Pat's back into her routine as though …………You mean, this is just run-of-the-mill stuff? They do NOT pay this woman enough! I don't know WHAT they're paying her, but it AIN'T enough!
It's about 11:00 when the doctor comes in to check Ericka's progress. She's dilated to 10 centimeters, 100% effaced, and the baby's at +2.
WHAT!! So soon? Already? You mean the baby's coming? Oh, God, Oh, God!
A classmate comes in to inform me that she and I are to go to lunch now. ARE YOU KIDDING? I CAN'T LEAVE NOW!! My (yes, it's now MY) baby's coming! Pat tells me I've got time to go eat (while making every attempt, I'm sure, not to roll on the floor laughing).
Back from the 4 mile hike to the cafeteria, I walk into the room to see Pat sitting on the foot of Ericka's bed between Ericka's feet, which are now aimed at Mars while supported by miniature inverted saddles attached to the bed. (I KNEW that bed looked weird!) Pat's proclaiming "7….8….9….10" while rhythmically pushing open, with two fingers of a sterilely gloved hand, Ericka's vaginal opening, helping pave the way for my baby to enter the world. She gives me a few orders, of which I now have no memory, but I end up at Ericka's side, holding a leg, helping her lift her head and shoulders every time Pat commands "PUSH"!
Gee, I thought doctors earned big bucks for this, but here's Pat doing the whole dang thing! They better name this baby after her! It's coming!! The baby's coming! I see the head crowning, now!
Oh, NOW the doctor comes in?!
I back off into a corner allowing the real nurse to do her job. Will I ever be that proficient? That confident? That knowledgeable? A hand pats me on the back and I turn around to see my instructor (and God in her own right as, I'm now more than ever convinced, are all of the women at school that think they can take someone like me and turn them into a Pat.)
This is it! Les is frozen in time as he witnesses the birth of his son. Me? I can't see diddly!! I've decided to make an even bigger fool of myself and start crying! Found the unused epinephrine! Its in my lacrimal ducts and they're rockin' and rollin!
I can't believe I'm standing here watching this! A birth! I've had the opportunity to get to know a little about Mommy and Daddy. They're so excited about this baby. There's a whole tribe of family out in the waiting area and I am here! Watching! Witnessing!
Then it's done. Baby Emanuel is here. (Guess the name "Pat" wouldn't have worked, after all). Emanuel wails at the indecency of it all. Less awkwardly cuts the cord. And who gets handed the baby? yep, you guessed it…..Pat. She assesses and cares for this amazing new baby, while the doctor performs a couple of whip-stitches on the episiotomy, and leaves this mess for Pat to clean up?!! And for this he'll get a big check, while Pat's up to her neck in bloody linins, instruments, Momma AND baby! And what's with that giant ostomy pouch tucked under Ericka, containing all sorts of blood and everything else that Emanuel casually cast aside? What in the world are we suppose to do with THAT?!
Pat's finished cleaning and assessing the baby. She's wrapped him warmly in a blanket, put his stocking cap on his head, and has given him to Momma. Les joins Ericka and Emanuel at the bedside. I just stand there blubbering as I see this picture. Momma, Daddy and Baby. All perfect. All happy. Ericka seems to have totally forgotten the last 14 hours! There's that glow I kept hearing about.
I help Pat clean the room and take trash and soiled linins to their proper location.
Grandma and Aunt are now in the room fighting over who gets to hold the baby.
Les and Ericka just keep glancing at each other with this look that words will never describe. They're happy.
And I got to share it.
So, there's another baby coming in the room next door. I follow Pat and we proceed with yet another amazing journey.
Yeah, I can do this………well, maybe in a couple of years……
