WOW..I mean .. just ... wow. I did my first home care admission today. My big entry back into the work force. Finding a job was a tad harder then I had originally thought. I've applied for about 20 positions and this is what I got. It felt good to put the ole scrubs back on. I instantly felt more clinical. My skills are rusty, but I'm sure will come back over time (we don't need to share that part with the patients). I do not feel I am breaking any professional code of ethics or HIPPA issues with this blog...I feel I owe it to you, the reader, to share with you my experiences. Real life is sometimes better then creative writing. For example:
pt is an 80 yr old white female recently discharged from the hospital. She was admitted because she had diarrhea after taking two dulcolax for constipation. Yes, you read that correctly, she was admitted because the medicine she took resulted in the desired outcome (and then some). Anywho, I knew a little what I was walking into based on the discharge summary saying pt lives alone, pt is a hoarder, pts home is unsafe, lots of clutter, poor water and heat, layers and layers of garbage. yuppers, that about says it all. The garbage was higher then my head (5'2'') every floor surface has newspaper or trash on it, piles and piles of stuff and things. As disgusting as I found my new mileu, I was struck by more of a sense of sadness. I would imagine, like morbid obesity (my first patient on orientation was almost 700 pounds who needed a new catheter because her 120 lb visually impaired husband removed hers so they could have relations. yup. relations), at some point it just gets so far away from you. At what point is that you look in the mirror, or around the room and just say ..fuck it. Who knows, but it is not my place to judge how others choose to live.
Did anyone buy that? I'd say..not so much judge, as just have a strong opinion about it
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