
Vented patient coming off a day of significant hypotensive problems secondary to sedation medication. Patient now awake, alert, calm, cooperative and self-reports pain-free. VSS, trend with sbp low 100s, pulse high 90s to low ST.
Daughter at bedside and has been at bedside for the entire day. Pt appears entirely comfortable and a million bucks better than the day before. It is 9p.m. She says: "Can't you sedate him more? It's only at.... (she reads a number off a pump) 12."
I ask patient, "Mr. Smith, are you comfortable?"
He nods, ET tube in his mouth. "Pain level okay?" He nods again. I say to his daughter, "I'm all about letting your Dad get sleep tonight, but I'm all about keeping a blood pressure for him, too."
"But his blood pressure says (she reads another number) 115 over 40."
"Yup. He's also wide awake now. People have a lower blood pressure when they sleep. He'll probably drop another 20 points once you guys head out for the night and he drifts off to sleep. If he doesn't get to sleep, I'll up the sedation. One of my goals for tonight is that he get some good rest, since he had so little last night." I speak to her and the patient, and as I say the last I smile at him and nod. He smiles and nods back. He understands our plan.
She also wanted to argue vent settings with me, arguing that he DID turn and move today, and that obviously it was enough. (As I listened to rales and rhonchi throughout that were not there yesterday.) Argued that he didn't need more oxygen, argued that He Was Weaning Fine A Few Minutes Ago And Didn't Need It.
You know... I know you're worried. I know you're freaked out. I know you're hangin onto your father's hand all day like he's a dyin man. Lucky for you, he isn't a dying man. His prognosis is good.
And you appear to be the kind of person who needs somebody to boss around so you feel like you're in control. Even though you have no idea what you're talking about and you don't seem to want to listen to me or anybody else.
I know that you don't mean to be such an a$$hole to the closest target, i.e. me. I know I'm part of the solution that your dad's gettin better and what's nice is that your dad appears to know, too. I can see your father mouth 'thank you' and smiles and nods with a thumbs up. I like your Dad; he's a nice guy.
Tonight, I was too tired to find polite and kind and unobtrusive nursey ways to say that to you. Because some days I actually am too tired to find compassion for someone who insists on arguing with me nonstop before I've had my first fscking cup of coffee. Over completely retarded shit like My Dad Doesn't Need More Oxygen that are so dumb I'm amazed that a seemingly normal intelligent person like yourself doesn't realize how bratty you sound when you spit that out at me.
The right way to deal with you is talk to you as if you are already know everything and are totally in control of the situation while I explain every miniscule part of what I'm doing and how it contributes to the pathophysiology of your father's case. I'm a woman and I've been married. Even if I weren't a nurse, I already have useful skills in dealing with this situation. You are being simultaneously petulant, stubborn, and just plain stupid.
But I don't have it in me today and you're being a real b!tch while I try to do what your father needs me to do. I am a long way from being a bodhisattva, much as I'd like to be that person. I'm human, and some days I get tired of that bullshit that a nurse isn't allowed to have a bad day.
(Thank you, Johnson and Johnson campaign, for reinforcing the ridiculous myth that nurses are martyred saints instead of professional clinicians:)

I'm not even havin a bad day. You're just bein a b!tch. Your father is a genuine pleasure to take care of. He shall have superb nursing care tonight. I will sit outside his room ALL NIGHT and make sure he's stable and comfortable. Even if you're dad wasn't a sweet man (and he is), he'd STILL get superb nursing care tonight.
Now get the hell out of my room.


