You didn't know that nurses played with pasta at work, did you?

Let me explain to you one of the many reasons I question and sometimes regret being a nurse.

Actually, let me explain to you the post-procedure process of a heart cath.

So you go for this procedure wherein they make a nick in your groin and stick a tube about the diameter of a macaroni noodle into the artery there. Then, they use that macaroni noodle tube to thread a wire up to your heart, where they inject a lot of IV dye, do real-time x-ray, find blockages, open them back up and prop them open with stents, and remove the wire.

Usually, that macaroni noodle gets removed while you're sedated, too, which is a good thing, because all the pressure in the artery means they need to hold really firm pressure on it for 20-plus minutes, depending on how quickly it clots off. Firm, as in, 50+ pounds of pressure on a 2 square inch area. When you're awake, they order 5-10 mg of morphine. The usual dose is 2-4 mg.

While you still have the macaroni noodle in, you have to lay perfectly still and flat. After it's removed, you still have to lay perfectly still and flat for 6 hours (or until "in the morning" which translates to whenever that particular doctor comes in to see you) before you can get up or moved or sit up or reposition yourself because your bad back is killing you.

Yeah.

So last night, I had the joy of having a patient whose macaroni noodle (henceforth referred to as a sheath) still needed to be pulled. And she was wide awake. And you know that part about lying perfectly still and flat? And especially not moving your legs?

Well... Yeah...

There's this little thing called restless leg syndrome that really doesn't cooperate with all this.

There's also this little drug called Chantix, which is to help you quit smoking but has the unfortunate nasty side effect of very strange and very vivid dreams.

Well, when your legs twitch and kick involuntarily, and that's made even worse by the weird dreams you have from your Chantix, it means that I, as your nurse, sit outside your room perched on the edge of my chair trying to chart on my computer-on-wheels while watching your legs and eat a sandwich and talk to my husband (who I haven't seen in three days) on the phone before he gets in bed while hopping up every time your leg moves more than 2 inches to remind you to try to hold your legs still.

Which, in addition to the restless legs and the drugs, is particularly hard because I knocked you out with 2mg morphine and a wonderful anti-nausea drug called phenergan, which has the side effect of making you extremely groggy. On top of all the versed and fentanyl you had to knock you out for your heart cath.

Lots of work involved. Lots.

Did I mention that this was only one patient? And I had 4 more? And I had a brand new admission from the ER? And we only had 3 nurses on the floor to start with? And they both got admissions at the same time as I did, which was when I was trying to get that sheath pulled? And that one of my other patients was a quadriplegic with a feeding tube and a tracheostomy (rather tricky and often disgusting breathing hole cut in the neck)? And another patient with a feeding tube? And everybody wanted pain medicine at the same time? And two broke down and cried on me?

Yeah.

I'm starting to not care about the job security because being this understaffed makes for such a stressful, chaotic time. I don't get paid enough in the first place, never mind on these days where I don't even get to sit down between 7PM and 1:30 AM.

Not. Worth. It.

I know, I know. It'll all seem a lot better after I sleep some. Don't worry. I'm on my way.