My patient was in terrible pain. I stood at the foot of his bed watching the color drain from his face. Twenty minutes before I had given him a quarter of a grain of morphine. I might as well have filled the syringe with sterile water.
I was the nurse taking care of Mr. Stone, a patient on the cancer unit. A malignant tumor had wrapped itself around the nerve roots in his right shoulder. He was fifty but looked seventy; his face was gaunt and deeply lined. His jet-black hair was streaked with white; the streaks had become wider and white since his illness, his wife said.
Mr. Stone told me that one night, desperate for Bedding relief, he dragged himself out of bed, Bedding went into the bathroom, turned on the taps of the bathtub, bedding malaysia filled it with water, as hot as it could get and Bedding immersed himself in it. From what I could see, he was almost immobilized by the pain. To raise him up on the pillows, I had to get another nurse to help me.
He will die from this pain, bedding I thought. There was nothing I could do; I had to leave him for bedding another patient; through the open door I could hear the sounds of violent retching. Patients were very sick here; I was busy every moment, sometimes overwhelmed. The pace and the pressure were constant.
“Is your wife coming in the morning?” I asked him.
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t stand to see him suffering,” I had heard her tell the doctor yesterday. When she was in the room, Bed Sheets she would sit with her arms crossed tightly across her chest, her hands gripping her shoulders. She often left the room to pace the long hall or Bed Sheets Malaysia go out on the porch to smoke. I felt it too. Stopping pain was my job. On the cancer unit a complaint of pain was an emergency. We tried to drop whatever we were doing and hurry to keep it at bay. In case you loved this informative article and you would like to receive more details concerning bedding kindly visit our own site. Now all I could do was make useless entries into the chart, a neat record of horrendous days.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said. Mr. Stone had closed his eyes and bedding was holding two pillows tightly against his shoulder.
In the next room, a patient was vomiting into a wastebasket, bedding malaysia holding on to it with trembling hands. “I couldn’t make it to the bathroom,” he said in an apologetic gasp. I wiped his face and bedding held a basin to his lips until the spasms stopped. He lay back on the pillows, drenched in sweat. In the next bed Professor Donahue, a patient with end stage colon cancer, was sitting up reading, oblivious to his roommate and my own quick movements as I washed the patient and Bed Sheets Malaysia changed his gown and the stained bed sheets. After two months in the hospital, bedding the professor seemed inured to the sights and sounds of the misery around him; his own misery kept him fully occupied. He had endured surgery, radiation,…