let's just say I did that on purpose.

... so if this whole nursing thing doesn't work out, I have a fine career of stand up comedy to fall back on. I told two jokes that made a room full of hospice personnel snort with laughter. The morning began with a bang -- not a fall, though. thank goodness! a client tore out an IV and made for the exit. And the demand never let up. each Tuesday morning, the hospice team gathers in the staff room for a powwow called "Team Meeting." Healthcare personnel are generally conservative folk. My nurse and I had performed targeted assessments on four clients, acclimated a new client to the environment, dispensed medication, and intervened in two near-disasters in the first hour alone.

Team meeting time began with a time for remembrance, the chaplain read a poem written by St. Francis and said a few kind words of each soul lost in the last week. After acknowledging each life, a single seashell was dropped into a tall vase sitting in the middle of the table and a moment of silence observed. The ceremony left me with goosebumps. Next, each case was discussed in terms of each facet of life each member of the team addressed: spiritual needs, psychosocial needs, physical needs, pain management needs, etc. The holistic look at each client was inspiring. The sort of care provided in this facility is that which you strive to accomplish in any setting. See the whole person as they are -- suspending judgment -- and attack the problems, as a team and in conjunction with the client.

But as often as "continuity of care" is drilled into our heads, it is easy as a nursing student to roll your eyes. I mean, two major nursing roles are communicator and teacher to our peers and to our patients. Why wouldn't we talk to each other? derr. But it inexplicably doesn't happen... ALL THE TIME. [insert signature Maura WHAT here] alright, prof, I will listen to common sense lectures with less cynicism. you were right. I was wrong. don't get used to it. it doesn't happen often.

My head was filled with end-of-life concepts I never before experienced. When my grandmother passed, I was too young to understand what was going on and was often shielded from her suffering. My mother died so quickly, I didn't have the chance to visit her post-op. palliative sedation? mottling? terminal agitation? shwat?

I read many a pamphlet on these topics and more, preparing for a more informed team meeting to discuss an incoming client. Before it began, my stomach rumbled audibly. Everyone turned around to stare at me. Breakfast had been nothing but a cup of coffee. ha-ha, that awkward moment when you've consumed more milligrams of caffeine in a day than you have calories. My colleagues urged me that if I think I should eat, I should eat. I asked if anyone had a nut allergy. The ladies looked at me quizzically. "Well, better to check beforehand and look like a doofus than send someone into anaphylactic shock. Yeah, that Caitlyn girl? She should never come back!" The room erupted with laughter, taking me completely aback. It was nice to hear a little laughter. It was nicer to know I elicited it.

Running, running, running -- documentation? not yet! My long-suffering nurse apologized to me for the hectic nature of the day, as if it was a bad thing and presented me with the option of staying or going at one o'clock. I said that I would love to stay, but I have an ultrasound scheduled at 1:30 in Hyannis. [if you're a little lost, take a look here] My nurse squeezed my forearm, a goofy smile spread across her face. "GOOD ULTRASOUND!?" I looked her in the eye and said, "Given my relationship status, there is no such thing." killed it!

I thanked everyone and dashed over to Hyannis for my ultrasound. I was greeted with, "Oh, good. You're wearing a perfectly low cut shirt." That's a weird way to greet someone, but yes, I dressed appropriately. I was ushered into a room not unlike a massage parlor and laid down on the examination table. I cursed myself for wearing my glasses to clinical because I couldn't directly visualize the screen. Yeah, I planned this. Therefore, I cannot see the screen and freak out about shit I don't understand. The report should be in by the end of the week from a radiologist in Boston. we shall see. we shall see.

until such time, I'm hittin' the salad -- hard.