I Really Love My Job

I really do love my job. Lately, I've been very stressed out about school and my grades. Some of that stress has affected my job performance. I hope it hasn't been too bad but I know that I have let things get to me a little easier than I normally would. That being said, I think it is important that I let everybody in on my warped thought process.
Before I begin... I have permission from this patient (who shall remain nameless) to post these pictures and to talk about his case.
I go out to the waiting room and call the patient back. He (who is still a kid) walks in with this treble hook, with two of the barbs buried to the hilt, in his forehead.
The two marks in his eyebrow are where the back hook caught him and he took that one out himself.

So, I get him triaged. He is a really nice kid who was fishing at the pond with his little brother. He was behind the little brother and stood up just as the little brother decided to cast. Really not that uncommon. Right?

The uncommon thing is that this kid refused lidocaine. That's right. Now is the time to scroll back up and look at the way that hook is buried in his head.

I asked him if he would like me to hold his hand. His response was to stick his hand up and yell "Where are you at?" I was so nervous. This was a big kid. I just knew that he was gonna break my hand. At this point we had the patient, his mom, his brother, me, another nurse, the tech, the doctor, and one of the doctor's sons in our little suture/cast room.

Have you ever gigged a fish or a frog? It makes the most horrible tissue ripping sound. Really, if you've ever done it, you'll never forget it.

So, the doctor grabs the hook and pulls. I felt heat crawl up from my inner stomach and radiate to my limbs then to my face. I was sure that I would pass out. The sound was unbelievably sickening.

Let me tell you, that kid did not shed a tear! Not one! He didn't even want to take a Tylenol after it was all over! Wow! I was impressed.

I'm gonna have to restrain myself from laughing the next time I get a 40 year old man who cries when I have to give him a steroid shot!

All that being said, I love my job. I love the crazy, zany things that I may see on any given day. I love that I see every walk of life. I love that I love all of those people, even when I don't agree with why they are there. I understand that there are people with issues that cause them to act differently than I (or others) think that they should act.