When I finally figured out I wanted to be a nurse, I applied for numerous STNA (State Tested Nursing Assistant) jobs in nursing homes, independent care giving positions, and finally PCA (Patient Care Assistant) jobs in nearby hospitals. I trotted all around the city for interviews, but was eventually lucky enough to be offered a position as a PCA in one of the area's top rated hospitals. I gladly accepted, attended all the necessary new hire training sessions and completed my orientation to the hospital. My employer paid for me to become STNA and CPR certified. I was all set. Ready to begin.
7am-7pm. My very first 12 hour shift. Dressed in my new hospital embroidered scrubs, I headed off to the first day of my future in health care. Excited and nervous and anxious and happy all at once, I pulled into the parking garage, got lost three times trying to find the main elevators, and finally ended up where I was supposed to be. My floor.
The educator on the floor paired me up with a preceptor. Let's call her B (As you might have guessed, I will not be using any real names in this blog). I would be paired with several different preceptors throughout the course of my orientation, but this being my first day, B made quite an impression on me. For those of you who don't know, a preceptor is a sort of mentor that helps new hires throughout their orientation to a new job, new unit, etc. In other words, a preceptor's job, being one of your peers, is to show you the ropes and help you to succeed in your position.
B and I started off the day with 14 patients. For those of you that are familiar with a PCA's typical workload, you know that most hospitals staffing requirements allow you to work with no more than 8-10 patients on a typical day. For lack of better words, having the responsibility to take care of 14 patients is fucking absurd. Pardon my French.
Let's go over what exactly a PCA in my hospital is responsible for. Just kidding, let's go over what a PCA on my floor is responsible for. You will soon learn that what is expected of PCAs in my hospital and what is expected of PCAs on my floor are basically two different job descriptions.
Back on point. We toilet patients. We literally wipe patients asses. We assist patients with bathing and daily care. We change bed linens. We measure intake and output. Yes, we measure poop. Do not even get me started on colostomies. Gag. We take vital signs every 4 fours (Heaven forbid if they do not fall within the 4 hour range. Screw you, Joint Commission....more on that later!). We draw blood. We run EKGs. We collect urine and poo specimens. We send the urine and poo specimens to the lab. We answer call lights. We ambulate patients from their beds to their chairs and back again. We feed patients. And then, we document, document, document. To sum up, a PCA is a nurse's bitch.
So let's get back to my fucking absurd workload on my very first day. I really should say that it was B's workload. Being my first day, I was technically supposed to be following and observing, not actually doing. Be seen and not heard sort of deal. Of course, me being me, I could not just stand by and watch my new coworker drown in this horribly awful not very good day. I helped. I learned. I struggled. I remember being absolutely amazed by how busy our day was. We literally did not sit down. Our work phone did not stop ringing. Call lights were the bane of our existence. And even B was saying how crazy it was! She kept telling me that this really is a good job and not to take today as an example of what it will be like.
I honestly wasn't sure if I should believe her or not. I was completely overwhelmed. My feet were aching. My ankles were swollen. I was sweaty. I was tired. I was thirsty. I was hungry. My legs were chafing from being sweaty and walking so much. I had never seen so many naked, saggy, grey people in my life. I smelled like poop. And not my own poop, either. Saggy, old people poop. What in the hell kind of shit show had I gotten myself into?! I sobbed the whole 40 minute drive back to my house. Like, ugly crying. Was I really cut out for this? Was I sure that nursing is the field I wanted to go into? Did I want to spend the rest of my life wiping ass?
The most important thing to take away from this post is that I went back the second day. And the third. And I have continued going back for more than a year now. IT GETS BETTER. I promise. Turns our there is more to nursing than wiping butts that aren't your own.
I really do love my job. I may be sarcastic and crude and have a weird sense of humor, that is just me. In my line of work, I feel it's necessary not to take everything so seriously. After all, laughter is the best medicine.
7am-7pm. My very first 12 hour shift. Dressed in my new hospital embroidered scrubs, I headed off to the first day of my future in health care. Excited and nervous and anxious and happy all at once, I pulled into the parking garage, got lost three times trying to find the main elevators, and finally ended up where I was supposed to be. My floor.
The educator on the floor paired me up with a preceptor. Let's call her B (As you might have guessed, I will not be using any real names in this blog). I would be paired with several different preceptors throughout the course of my orientation, but this being my first day, B made quite an impression on me. For those of you who don't know, a preceptor is a sort of mentor that helps new hires throughout their orientation to a new job, new unit, etc. In other words, a preceptor's job, being one of your peers, is to show you the ropes and help you to succeed in your position.
B and I started off the day with 14 patients. For those of you that are familiar with a PCA's typical workload, you know that most hospitals staffing requirements allow you to work with no more than 8-10 patients on a typical day. For lack of better words, having the responsibility to take care of 14 patients is fucking absurd. Pardon my French.
Let's go over what exactly a PCA in my hospital is responsible for. Just kidding, let's go over what a PCA on my floor is responsible for. You will soon learn that what is expected of PCAs in my hospital and what is expected of PCAs on my floor are basically two different job descriptions.
Back on point. We toilet patients. We literally wipe patients asses. We assist patients with bathing and daily care. We change bed linens. We measure intake and output. Yes, we measure poop. Do not even get me started on colostomies. Gag. We take vital signs every 4 fours (Heaven forbid if they do not fall within the 4 hour range. Screw you, Joint Commission....more on that later!). We draw blood. We run EKGs. We collect urine and poo specimens. We send the urine and poo specimens to the lab. We answer call lights. We ambulate patients from their beds to their chairs and back again. We feed patients. And then, we document, document, document. To sum up, a PCA is a nurse's bitch.
So let's get back to my fucking absurd workload on my very first day. I really should say that it was B's workload. Being my first day, I was technically supposed to be following and observing, not actually doing. Be seen and not heard sort of deal. Of course, me being me, I could not just stand by and watch my new coworker drown in this horribly awful not very good day. I helped. I learned. I struggled. I remember being absolutely amazed by how busy our day was. We literally did not sit down. Our work phone did not stop ringing. Call lights were the bane of our existence. And even B was saying how crazy it was! She kept telling me that this really is a good job and not to take today as an example of what it will be like.
I honestly wasn't sure if I should believe her or not. I was completely overwhelmed. My feet were aching. My ankles were swollen. I was sweaty. I was tired. I was thirsty. I was hungry. My legs were chafing from being sweaty and walking so much. I had never seen so many naked, saggy, grey people in my life. I smelled like poop. And not my own poop, either. Saggy, old people poop. What in the hell kind of shit show had I gotten myself into?! I sobbed the whole 40 minute drive back to my house. Like, ugly crying. Was I really cut out for this? Was I sure that nursing is the field I wanted to go into? Did I want to spend the rest of my life wiping ass?
The most important thing to take away from this post is that I went back the second day. And the third. And I have continued going back for more than a year now. IT GETS BETTER. I promise. Turns our there is more to nursing than wiping butts that aren't your own.
I really do love my job. I may be sarcastic and crude and have a weird sense of humor, that is just me. In my line of work, I feel it's necessary not to take everything so seriously. After all, laughter is the best medicine.
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