christ666's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm finally feeling it... I've just come home from work, and it hasn't been until now (seven hours later) that I start to feel some sort of grief. I feel very... I really don't want to use the word conflicted. I guess I can't seem to pick the right emotion right now. Tonight was the first night I was a part of the code team. And last night we had a trauma code, a woman was struck by another vehicle and suffered so much injury that she had no rhythm in her heart. Since I had yet to do a code, and have been certified to do so for some time now... I took part in the team I alternated compressions with an ER Tech who has really begun to help me on my way to getting my own CNA. We had several people in to help, including the paramedics that brought her in. One gave me an approving pat on the back after it was all done, which I must say made me feel a little more at ease. I don't know how other first times might have been for those that have performed CPR, but mine was that of slight trepidation. I didn't panic by any means, but I guess I had this fear that if I didn't hit that heart enough, I could have been a contributing factor to her upcoming expiration. Of course, she was practically DOA, but our doctor is one that always tries for successful resuscitation. He's a good guy. I tried to break her ribs, or my arms. I made sure I was reaching her heart. Another comforting factor was when I heard the RT tech say that I'm compressing well. Then I realized that was because blood was leaking from the orifices in her head. We don't even know who she is. She had no license or any form of identification. There probably won't be identification until a missing person's report if formed. And now, I've started to feel a reaction to tonight's unsuccessful code. I don't think I really would have felt much remorse if it hadn't been for everything else that's been going on. I've just received an email from a beautiful, dear friend who always had the perfect things to say. She's been away for almost a year now... and I've probably spoken to her four or five times out of that year. She's my best friend, and I don't talk to her. Along with this slowly progressing depression that I always seem to go through every other week, I find that uncertainty is stalking every thought I have. Uncertainty about my life, my future, my job, my dreams, myself. You take all of that, along with some drama about a fuckwit husband trying to kick my ass, the obscene amount of cynicism in that workplace, and just about anything else I can fish out for sympathy... you will essentially get one bad day. I know it felt different being in that code, but I'm not sure I felt good. For a fact, I know I still do not want to pursue a career in healthcare. I appear to be numb enough as it is, I don't want to feel absolutely no emotion when another person dies. No matter who you are, everybody needs some kind of mourning. I just need a passport to optimism. Somebody call or text. Let me know things are good with you. My next blog will be my 100th. Give me something positive to write about. For now, I've got some mourning to do. 7:57 a.m. - 2007-12-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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