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This thread is long and emotional, please veer away if thats not your forte', I just need to get this out of me. 
So, Im a registered nurse, as some know. Ive been a nurse 3 years, before that I was a Surgical Tech, assisting with surgeries. Ive dealt with a multitude of crazy situations and seen a lot of things.
In my 10 years at the hospital ive:
*held a beating human heart while sticking my finger in the back like the boy with his finger in the dike.
*Allowed people to die with dignity
*Had people die with not so much dignity
*held amputated body parts
*made patients laugh and cry
*assisted with removing hearts and lungs and kidneys for organ donors
*Held bits of brain in my hands
*placed eyeballs tenderly back in their sockets.
Suffice it to say, Ive done alot, and I love my job i wouldn't change it for the world.
I didnt like however, my very first assignment when I got to work yesterday: tagging and bagging the body of a 4 year old who had died an hour prior. I entered the room to get the body ready for the morgue. I couldn't even open the door, my CoWorker A did that for me. I told her I was uncomfortable...but why? I've never stayed away from a patients room for any reason. Id crawl into a shit covered room to get my job done, ive wrestled with drunks and successfully avoided things being thrown at my head, its all in a days work. But I cant even walk into this room?
I saw her little body on the bed, covered by a sheet but so small. Too small. Her little foot was hanging out...it was white. I almost left the room, I had a mini panic attack but I kept it inside, stifled b/c this is my job, this is what Im expected to do.
A was fantastic. She saw how I was and kept the girls face covered while we went about the business of tagging her and collecting her belonging. I removed a bow from her hair that was sticking up above the blanket...a pink one. She had beautiful hair. Brown ringlets. I touched them....they were soft.
I picked her up and put her in the morgue bag, her body was so light. The bag was so big. As I pulled the zipper up, A removed the last sheet from her face and then, the zipper was up. I only saw the side of her little face right as I zipped past it, I am very grateful that I did not see the rest.
I never did well with sick kids. Before yesterday, Ive never actually had to handle the body of a dead child. I waited til I got home, a full 13 hours later to cry. Im crying as I type this. With her face covered, she could have been anyone's child. She could have been mine. Life is unfair. And sometimes, I just dont want to deal with it.
So, Im a registered nurse, as some know. Ive been a nurse 3 years, before that I was a Surgical Tech, assisting with surgeries. Ive dealt with a multitude of crazy situations and seen a lot of things.
In my 10 years at the hospital ive:
*held a beating human heart while sticking my finger in the back like the boy with his finger in the dike.
*Allowed people to die with dignity
*Had people die with not so much dignity
*held amputated body parts
*made patients laugh and cry
*assisted with removing hearts and lungs and kidneys for organ donors
*Held bits of brain in my hands
*placed eyeballs tenderly back in their sockets.
Suffice it to say, Ive done alot, and I love my job i wouldn't change it for the world.
I didnt like however, my very first assignment when I got to work yesterday: tagging and bagging the body of a 4 year old who had died an hour prior. I entered the room to get the body ready for the morgue. I couldn't even open the door, my CoWorker A did that for me. I told her I was uncomfortable...but why? I've never stayed away from a patients room for any reason. Id crawl into a shit covered room to get my job done, ive wrestled with drunks and successfully avoided things being thrown at my head, its all in a days work. But I cant even walk into this room?
I saw her little body on the bed, covered by a sheet but so small. Too small. Her little foot was hanging out...it was white. I almost left the room, I had a mini panic attack but I kept it inside, stifled b/c this is my job, this is what Im expected to do.
A was fantastic. She saw how I was and kept the girls face covered while we went about the business of tagging her and collecting her belonging. I removed a bow from her hair that was sticking up above the blanket...a pink one. She had beautiful hair. Brown ringlets. I touched them....they were soft.
I picked her up and put her in the morgue bag, her body was so light. The bag was so big. As I pulled the zipper up, A removed the last sheet from her face and then, the zipper was up. I only saw the side of her little face right as I zipped past it, I am very grateful that I did not see the rest.
I never did well with sick kids. Before yesterday, Ive never actually had to handle the body of a dead child. I waited til I got home, a full 13 hours later to cry. Im crying as I type this. With her face covered, she could have been anyone's child. She could have been mine. Life is unfair. And sometimes, I just dont want to deal with it.
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