Lauren
Early last month, I started a new job at a local hospital in Binghamton as a patient care technician (similar to a nursing assistant). I'm a senior in Decker and wanted some more inpatient experience, so I decided to apply to this position. When accepting, I knew that my medical-surgical unit had some COVID patients, but didn't know how many or the severity of their conditions.
My first day on the floor I was greeted by white tarp coverings over patient rooms with signs that read "COVID +". Every staff member wore an N-95 and face shield when caring for non-COVID patients, or donned a gown, gloves, bonnet, and shoe covers when with COVID-positive patients. Although this was nothing new a year and a half after the pandemic began, it was definitely intimidating to know I would be working long hours on this floor and would be in direct contact with these patients.
As I began my training shifts, I was immersed in so much new knowledge and admiration for the healthcare workers working in these kinds of units. Donning and doffing between each patient room became second-nature, and O2 saturation became a crucial vital sign. I was exhausted after every shift.
Most of these patients were on supplemental oxygen, like a nasal cannula or non-rebreather, and some more critical patients were on the Vapotherm. I had patients as young as 35 and as old as 100. Respiratory therapy was on our floor quite often to investigate patients with low oxygenation.
On a recent shift, one of my patients, seeming oriented and stable, suddenly became short of breath and pale after standing up. I was alone in the COVID wing as the day nurses were giving report to the night nurses, and I saw his oxygen saturation went down to 65% (when it should be at least 90%). After finding some help, we discovered his oxygen supply was not being delivered properly, which caused some significant concern and panicked calls to respiratory. He thankfully recovered well after fixing his oxygen, but these kinds of nerve-racking experiences occur regularly in these kinds of units, and sometimes with more severe consequences.
I learned that therapeutic communication was so important, especially with the patients who were sequestered in negative-pressure rooms alone, with only me or the RN popping in once an hour (ideally). These patients felt isolated, weren't allowed visitors, and were physically unstable. When they used the call bell, it would be at least 5 minutes until someone could get there, as donning PPE is no quick task. Every time I entered the room I tried to ask them about their lives, their families, and their support system. Almost every patient was excited to talk about their own experiences, and it made them feel some semblance of normalcy. I could only imagine how scary hospitalization was for them and their loved ones, so I tried to do the best I could to make them comfortable.
As I have been working alone on my unit, I have more admiration than ever of nurses and techs working with COVID patients. It can be exhausting and frustrating at times, as beds are normally always full and we're often understaffed for the workload the floor requires. However, my coworkers have been extremely helpful and supportive, which helps tremendously.
Although lately life has seemed "back to normal," COVID is far from over. Current nursing students will undoubtedly have to care for COVID patients or abide by related regulations and policies upon graduation, so it is extremely important to be educated on this population and current guidelines. Working on a COVID unit has provided so much valuable knowledge and experience, has helped me grow as a student nurse, and gave me a new kind of appreciation of healthcare workers during the pandemic.
For information on COVID-19 and current guidelines, please visit the CDC's website.
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