Shit Happens

After multiple days off, I got to my floor and begin doing "turnover." Amy, the day shift nurse,  put down her pen and stared at me, waited for me to look up and make eye contact.  When she was satisfied she had my full attention she proceeded to inform me Mrs. Smith, the new post surgical patient is a little constapated, making those finger quotation marks around "a little constapated."   Being constipated is nothing new for post surgical patients.  The anesthesia and all the pain meds tend to slow your systems down.  They usually get some colace and a lot of fluid, not a big deal.  By the slightly amused smirk on her face, I could tell there was more to it.  I stared back at her waited for her to get to the point. 

"By a little constipated I mean, she actually needs an enema.  The doctor JUST wrote the order for it so that means you're going to have to do it.  I have to pick up my kids from school," and just like that she handed me the keys, the enema, and the order and walked away. 

I don't have a weak stomach and I have no issue with blood, mucous, vomit, and even urine but not feces.  Luckily, as if answering my prayers, the nurse working the other side had overheard everything and grabbed my hand and the box.  She started pulling me toward Mrs. Smith's room and assured me she'd handle most of it as she can't handle vomit and would rather do this torturous deed than actually clean up my lunch. 

We get in the room.  Tracy, the other nurse, quickly goes to work as I remain at the patients head offering unconvincing words of support.  Tracy's face goes blank on the other side of the bed.  I assume it must be a ton coming out.  I mouth the words "thank you" but she shakes her head and waves me into the bathroom.  Confused, I follow. 

"Nothing's going in...." it took a moment for the words to fully make sense.  Then it hit me!

"Oh shit!"  Not realizing how true those words could be.  My patient was impacted.  That's right, the nurse that can't handle feces has to now go in a break up a large impaction. (A large, hard lump of dry stool blocking the rectum.)  The treatment for this is to go in manually, that's right with your hands, and break up the lump so that it can come out and clear the way for everything else.  I started to gag thinking about it and I realized I was giving Tracy the puppy dog eyes silently begging her to do it. 

"No, absolutely not.  NOT going to happen.  I love you but I can't.  That's where I draw the line.  I'll get sick!" she proclaimed as I followed her out of the room.  For the second time that day, my prayer was answered.  The shift RN overheard us from around the corner and came to my rescue. 

I entered the patient's room with my two heroes trailing behind.  The RN, Steph, took her place at the right side of the bed.  With the patient still lying on her left side from earlier, I grabbed her right knee, the one on top, and pulled it toward her chest.  Tracy took her place to my left toward the foot of the bed ready to assist.  With her fingers well lubricated, Steph went in.  Instantly, the smell consumed the room, tears filled my eyes my gag reflexes kicked in.  Steph handed Tracy a large chunk of something that looks like a melted ball of snickers.  Tracy's composure went out the window the second it touched her gloved hand and immediately she was tearing up holding back her own vomit.  Steph continued the process, in and out, in and out,  but begins laughing so hard at the two of us her eyes filled with tears too.  The whole time in the room I was thinking this is one of those things that make me want to quit.  The debacle continued for what seemed like a lifetime. In all actualitly we were only in there for maybe five minutes before we got the "all clear." 

The other two nurses went on to do their own work and I returned to Mrs. Smith's bedside to give her something for the discomfort and make sure she wouldn't get backed up again any time soon.  Upon entering her room I found her sitting up watching America's Funniest Home Videos and laughing hysterically, a start contrast to the woman crying in agony less than half an hour earlier.    I apologized for the travisty and handed her the medications.  She set up strait, turned the T.V. down and took her the little cup.  After getting all the pills down she smiled at me and said, "No need to apologize, shit happens," with the largest smile I've seen in a long time.   I couldn't help but laugh.