Lastly the definition of culturally congruent care. An ethical dilemma I encountered at work was while working as a hospice nurse. I was called by the hospital staff for a Hispanic male in the ICU dying. The wife was quiet and my conversation was with the daughters. The patient had been battling cancer for many years and now was dying in the hospital.
I have a shocking text from my mom; my sister has had her first child! I am nervous yet overjoyed; I call my mom immediately and listen very carefully My sister has been having continuous troubles with her pregnancy. Throughout the summer, she has had to go in for an ultrasound every week. Today, which is such an astonishing day, both of my parents decide to go with sister to her ultrasound. After the ultrasound, the nurse told my sister that she must immediately go across the street to the hospital to have a caesarean section.
I ended up being sent to our local hospital for a CT scan. That’s the day I learned that I really hate IV’s. I refused to even move my right arm in fear that it would poke something else. When the scan came back, they reported finding suspicious spots in the tumor (although at the time they thought it was just a cyst.) They referred me to the UK hospital that night.
She felt so jumbled up, so she thought she needed to go to the restroom. That's when she went into the restroom and as she was bending down that's when, PLOP! I popped out on to the floor. My mother yelled for my dad that was in the next room and then he yelled for a doctor once he saw what happened. I think
When AA’s condition become worse and was extremely manic the caregivers called the CRHT who prescribed lorezapam and haloperidol to calm him, the police were also called in. No mental health assessment had been done. This was however requested by a mental health practitioner once he/she was consulted. A transfer to a psychiatric intensive care unit (PICU) was also recommended. Hand cuffed, strapped to a stretcher and lying prone, AA was transported in an ambulance to Wedgewood where he was kept in isolation and checked on every 15 minutes due to lack of beds in the intensive care unit.
Luke did not want anyone to know about him being sick so Julie was supposed to pick him up and then take him to the doctor. When they got to the doctors office the waiting room was full of sniffling kids. Forty minutes went bye and the door to the outside of the office had opened and Luke’s mom rushed in: “Nancy! Why are you here? The doctor told me to come.
January 11, 2013, I wake up to yelling, prayers, and crying. I walked into the kitchen where all the noises were coming from and I found my mother on the floor crying, talking on the phone with my godmother. My father was there by her side, trying hard not to cry while supporting his wife. I didn’t know what was happening, this was the first time I’ve seen my mom so vulnerable and broken. My parents didn’t tell me anything other than my grandmother was in critical condition at the hospital, but with god's help she would overcome this hard time.
As I started to panic, I began to scream while trying to get off of the table, but people who looked like nurses, came over and held me down. One nurse said to me, “You are going to be just fine. The surgery is over, but your medicine wore off while we were cleaning up.” She said mutter other words to me, but those faded away into my subconscious seeing as the last memory I hold is a mask being placed on my face before my world turned black again. The recollection painted above depicts a personal memory of my own. When I was a newborn, my parents discovered I was born with a birth defect called clubfoot, which results in one or both of a newborn’s feet to be rotated internally.
During that time my mom had wrapped my finger in a towel and applied pressure above the cut to stop the bleeding or slow it down at least. My dad drove like he always does all casually like. For him there is no big deal of seeing your child finger cut to the bone and bleeding profusely in the back of his car. While on the other hand my mother was freaking out. Once they got me to the doctor’s office which truly felt like an eternity thanks to the pain.
During my summer break of 2011, I broke my ankle on father’s day. I broke my tibia, fibula and cracked my platelet in my ankle. My mom rushed me to a hospital where we waited two hours for me to be seen. After a while my mom got frustrated and very impatient she then helped me back into the car and rushed me to children’s hospital where they wheeled me to an emergency room and put me to sleep. They began to place my bones back into place.
Fights and arguments continued to plague the relationship between Sanchez and Buchholz and on July 20, she left him and descended into crisis. Emotional distress often exacerbates postpartum depression and Sanchez soon found herself in the emergency room at Metropolitan Methodist, asking for help. During this visit, Sanchez met with a counselor at the clinic that ushered her through her pregnancy. Upon speaking with the counselor, she stated that she had delusional, paranoid thoughts that other women were trying to breastfeed her baby and hearing voices which said that others would like to take her baby away. She also reported visual images of other children’s faces transposed on her baby’s face.
Mindi had been hoping that it had been just a little pull in a muscle or maybe a slight sprain. Dunaway had reached the x ray room and got all of her x rays done. Once the x rays were done, Dunaway and Mindi were then transferred into the waiting room to get results. The nurse came back with a big box, Mindi and her daughter had exchanged looks and Dunaway said, “This can’t be good.” Mindi agreed and just sat there nervously. The nurse smiled gently and gestured to the big box that she was carrying.
The pain did not go away. I was at the doctor again the next week for worrying back pain starting. The pain was near my kidneys which was not only worrying me, but everyone else. After a many doctor visits, my mom was worried about me for a completely different reason. She thought I was missing too much school.
Rotation day five the Minden Lab. Today was a busy day got to draw many people and they were willing to let me. We also had some calls to the ER and drew on a person that was having chest pain we drew a Cardiac tube he told us that he was worried because his nice was going to have surgery. The phlebotomist asked what kind of surgery he’s niece was having he then told us the story of how his niece had been thrown up in the air and that the little girl had fallen and hit her head. He thought he was having chest pain because of how worried he was.
We left in the fall of 2006 to fix the clonus in her foot. Many medical terms and fancy words described the intense surgery to fix her walk. 900 miles from Denver to the hospital with a van full of screaming kids. On our way to Minnesota, we stopped at Mount Rushmore. The four faces frowned upon us as the mood was darkened by the uncertainty of the surgery.