I knew I hadn't been on here in a while, I didn't realize how long until I got here. It's been a really long time. And for those few of you who were following me, I really apologize. I wasn't here because I was in a really bad place. I don't know what to do about that. It seems that the harder I try to get out of this bad place, it's like quicksand, and the more I struggle the deeper I get stuck in it.
My Dad used to always say "hey, you better pull yourself up by your bootstraps". Well either I can't find mine, or they snapped!
Anyway, different little/major things have happened. Like for instance, I tried going back to work. It was a fiasco. I don't know whose fault it was. I'm defnitely blaming myself. The people closest to me are saying it wasn't my fault. When they say "you know it wasn't your fault, right?" I'm at a loss for what to say. Am I supposed to say what I know they want me to say, which is that they have convinced me it wasn't my fault, or tell the truth and say that no matter what they say, my self-doubt is much stronger than any of their words, and deep down I will always believe it was my fault, and one more in a long list of failures, which mother predicted for me from a very early age.
The first day at the rehab center was filled with paperwork and watching corporate videos. The second day, apparently due to staffing issues, they were quite a few nurses short, so the Staff Development nurse who was training the other Supervisor as well as me, had to take the floor. That was one nurse for 28 residents, meds, treatments, etc. This was not a learning experience, this was nursing at it's worst, due to the current climate created by the economy and many other factors. This nurse hardly ever covered the floor, and admitted she was overwhelmed, and slow doing med passes. That's fine. When I was a supervisor and had to occasionally take a floor, I was much slower than the regular nurse who was familiar with the residents, who had to have their meds crushed in applesauce, etc. Anyhow, she decided that she would draw up the meds and have Ann and myself administer said meds to the residents. WHAT!?! I was trained that you never administer a med you didn't draw up yourself! This is especially important with insulins since some are long-acting, some short, and minute differences can make a huge diffence in certain patients. Then again, what do you do on your second day of orientation? Do you say you refuse to do it? I guess it's what you should do, but it's pretty hard, especially after struggling for so long to get a job, as I had. So as Ann and I would return to her from a room, she'd have another cup of meds poured, syringes drawn up and say "give this to 23B" and so on.
We never saw the MAR, never saw the bottle the syringe was drawn from, or what patient she took the order from.
I returned from a patients' room and she handed me a syringe of morphine and she said "give this to 23B". I did. I returned to the her and she said "you did give that to 22B?" and I said "OMG! No! I gave it to 23B". She said nothing after that. Things continued as they had. Several times I tried to give her back the narcotics keys, I was extremely uneasy at this point, but she told me to hang on to them. She also continued to have me hand out meds. These residents could be in the smoking area, the dining area, anywhere, and none of them were wearing ID bracelets! I was stunned. It crossed my mind that if morphine wasn't intended for that patient she might want to get an order for Narcan, but I didn't want to say anything at this point. That was Tuesday. Wednesday I arrived and she and the administrator were waiting for me. She asked me how I thought the previous day had gone. I told her it was scary. Her reply to me was that I had made a medication error, she had gotten her butt reamed for it, and that while med errors were made all the time, and that part was 'no big deal' what bothered her was that I didn't seem to care or show enough emotion about it. I said I was terrified, but tried to remain composed in front of the rest of the residents, because I didn't think sulking in a corner was going to help anybody, she just said that I seemed to be emotionless, and they were terminating me. Well, so much for going back to work. I do blame myself. I can think she said 23B till the day I die, but it won't change anything - I gave the wrong med to the wrong patient. I did it. Her initials are in the book as having given it (as I said we didn't have access to the med book, so she was signing for everything she was handing us to give out), but ultimately, I gave it, and I'm responsible. Maybe the world is safer without me. Anyway, I'm devasted.....
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