YOU TAKE IT HOME WITH YOU
BRITTANY’S STORY, RN
You think about the day that you just had and everyone you’ve cared for. You think about being in the room – just the two of you. You hear the oxygen run at 15L, some on BiPap, or high flow. Doesn’t matter. The saturation remains at 89% as the patient says “I can’t breathe” as they gasp for air. You take that home.
My new routine is no different than nurses across the country. I take my shoes off before getting into the car. I pop the trunk and put them in. Sometimes it’s a quiet ride home just sitting in silence, but as soon as I get there, I go straight to the shower.
A sound can bring you back. A gasp. Watching their oxygen levels, you think about intubation fully knowing it means they may not survive. You ring the bell to get more medications. You’re the only thing between the patient living or dying, and it’s your advocacy that can mean everything. That’s one hell of a responsibility in a pandemic fight no one has seen before. Yet here we are. It’s the two of you in a room. Breathing. Observing everything.
At home, I get out of the shower, I’m alone. I can’t visit friends or family. Similar to the visitors of my patients, I use Facetime. I talk to Leon. He’s my six year old brother. We talk about how he played outside and the fun things he’s did that day. “Sissy when are you coming over?” He asks. “Not for awhile.” I say. “Because of the virus?” He says with sadness in his voice.
Doc’s now at the head of the bed. Sats are at 87% and dropping. It’s go time. “We’re going to put this tube in to help you breathe better.” Respiratory shows up and sets up the machine.
“Can I get 20 of Etomidate and 100 of Succs”. Push the meds and just for seconds, things slow down. We stare at the monitor. 92…93… but for how long. We get the patient upstairs and pass on the fight for their life.
All I can tell you now is that things have to change. People have to change. We live in a world where it’s always about “me”. When we finally start to think about others the world will become a bit more beautiful. Then the gentle tone starts to play once again. My eyes open. It begins again. – Brittany DiCarli is an RN working on the front lines.