My Rob: Part 1

In 1996, my best friend was a guy. Who just happened to be gay. And a nurse.

Before the goofy-gay-nurse stereotype imprints into your head, I want to be clear that Rob was a professional, dedicated, knowledgeable, skilled and published nurse who held a Masters degree in Nursing and was considered as an expert in Pediatric Trauma.

Serious Rob

Once, after passing two very muscular, tattooed and tanned guys dressed in tank tops and short-shorts while strolling the Midway at The State Fair,  Rob turned to me and flatly said, "Gay guys like that give us all a bad name".

Rob and his life-partner, "Steve" (a pseudonym) had been together for about six years. Rob was outgoing, funny, sincere, playful and caring. Steve was quiet, thoughtful, intelligent, could fix anything, sew and cook. They were the best friends that this thirty-something single girl could ever wish for.

Rob and I bonded immediately. We loved going to the movies, popcorn, hanging out, psychic stuff, parties, Mariah Carey, eating, Halloween, Sedona, Christmas, dancing, The Academy Awards, animals, a good laugh, "Imitation of Life" (with Lana Turner), talking on the phone and Bingo. OK, so maybe we weren't "The World's Most Interesting People", but it worked for us.

 Rob

 

We were as 'thick as thieves' and then, suddenly, Rob got sick. And then he died.

It's been over 20 years.

I still miss him.

Rob was intrinsically a teacher and it's because of this that I have decided to share his story with you.

You may learn something from him and his life experiences.

I know that I have...

Parkland 5: Pedi ER (Part One)

Many moons ago, Children’s Medical Center in Dallas did not have an ER. They did have a clinic that was open during business hours, however. That meant that Parkland’s ER would always take Pediatric Trauma and it would manage all other Pediatric Emergencies daily from 4pm until 8am and 24 hours/day on weekends.


For a nurse with one year of ER experience, Pedi ER was scary but remains as one of the best clinical experiences I have ever had.

Opening daily at 3pm with two RN’s, a Patient Care Assistant (PCA) and a Pediatric Resident, we would prepare for the onslaught of sick children and anxious parents.

The gauntlet of waiting parents and kids sitting on the floor of the long hallway leading up to Peds was daunting. We didn’t have a lot of treatment rooms, so kids with asthma would be corralled into one room, sat side-by-side on two stretchers and hooked up to nebulizer treatments in hopes of an improvement in their condition.

Depending upon the chief complaint, children were seen as quickly as possible. We became expert in a 30 second pediatric assessment - check vital signs, listen to lungs and determine if the kid looked ‘good’ or ‘bad’. That was about it. Documentation was minimal. Starting IV’s and drawing blood even from the tiniest infant was common practice. Infusion pumps were rare back then, so we resorted to the use of controlled fluid administration via a device called a Buretrol that would allow only a specific amount of fluid to be administered – they ‘went dry’ a lot. Pulse Oximetry had not been invented yet (eeek) and our resident would obtain urine specimens by manually withdrawing urine from baby’s bladders via a needle and syringe.

Any Pediatric Trauma patient would be triaged to the Surgery Pit, not Pedi ER. Thank God.

Children that looked ‘bad’ (or worse) would be placed in one of two resuscitation rooms. One RN, a PCA and the doc would work the situation. The other RN would have to manage the rest of the Pedi ER. We would frequently have kids that “looked bad.”
Enough said.

Pedi ER was (at best) nightmarish from about 6pm until 2 am. Compounding an already stressed department with not only the numbers of sick children but also with the persistent crying, overcrowding and rising anxiety level of exhausted parents.


I loved it.

Parkland 6: Pedi ER - Part 2