When The Nursing Student Becomes The Patient…….

Dear Scarlett,


We have noticed that you have previously posted a blog that stated that you were watching porn during a lecture on a Monday morning.  This is a warning telling you that because you are able to access a range of online context, you should be aware that our IT resources are not for accessing unacceptable material.  Unacceptable material includes sexually explicit or pornographic content.  If you use your name to access a computer and software, you should do so with caution and only access acceptable material.  In other words: we know what you are watching and writing.




BB x


With that reminder, it is best not to read your own blog posts while being somewhere that doesn’t feature your own four walls that you call home.  Considering the last blog post was about taking it up the arse, BDSM involving being paddled and having your bland vanilla socks being knocked off.  However I did find it hysterically funny since I received that email not even two days after posting.  And all I thought in return was ‘Oh, they read my blog post. Wonder what they thought of it?’  With saying that, I am still not game enough to find BB and ask them what they thought of it in case my access is restricted and I am forced to looking at photos of cats in teacups.

While most spinsters who are past the age of having children will no doubt find it hard to resist before staring at it for a couple of hours.  Than saving it to a folder labelled ‘cats’, I find the thought of staring at cats in teacups to be as exciting as watching paint drying on walls.  Personally I was there at that stage earlier this year while painting the walls in The Little White House in my underwear while dancing to Billy Idol.  And it was entertaining to say the least until having to climb into small spaces.  Also I am afraid of asking BB in case they do cut my access to said cats and there goes my opportunity of sending an equally disturbing and inappropriate iMessages.  And some of these often feature a picture along with a caption.  Last night’s was: ‘I’ve got your back if you tell me you’re interested in women’. 

Now after I have left you somewhat stunned with the picture above, I welcome you fabulous readers of Scarlett to another ‘wtf’ moment.


Marianne Williamson had previously stated ‘trying to suppress or eradicate symptoms on a physical level can be extremely important.  However there is more to healing which includes dealing with psychological, emotional and spiritual issues that is equally important’.  I wish someone or something could have told me this because for the past fortnight I have been experiencing so many disturbances to my own wellbeing that are still unknown.


For the past fortnight, I have spent more days in bed than what I have actually spent walking around and enjoying life outside of my bedroom walls.  In fact, I have spent so much time in my room that I have formatted a plan as to what my dream home would look like, positioning of furniture, colours and textures that shall be used.  Not to mention the hours that I have spent on assignments, underlining shit on lecture notes and wondering when I am going to get better.  However like most normal people, the only time I have actually managed to make it down the stairs of my townhouse is to get the necessities of life.  Otherwise I would have died by now or to answer the question of do girls rock tutus better and hosting tea parties.


However when said competition ends and I end up winning because clearly girls rock tutus better, I collapse in bed for a few hours and then I am slowly able to pull myself together.  Having said that whatever this illness is, it started when I moved back to Brisbane and I experienced a moment of light-headedness that hasn’t happened for nearly ten years.  After sitting on the bottom of my shower due to the thought of the glass panel separating me from the real world ending up in my face, made me think of logically.  After nearly five minutes of sitting with my head between my knees and slowly breathing in and out, I slithered my way out of the shower and managed to make the short distance from the bathroom to my bedroom before collapsing onto my bed. Breathless.


After a few weeks of this constantly occurring from when I first got out of bed to when I was sitting in the shower, you would think as a nursing student that I would actually go and seek medical advice as to why this was occurring.  You would think so however I decided to stick my head in the sand and pretend that it wasn’t happening even though it wasn’t just me noticing this was now occurring on a daily basis.  My housemate Banana became my over protective and concerned housemate, who constantly asked ‘are you sure you’re okay?’ to which I would reply, ‘Yeah, I am okay. The dizziness only seemed to last a few seconds when I first got up’ while lying to her face as the room continued to swim after a few minutes.  However it all seemed to come to a point when Tuesday rolled around and I pretended that life was happening perfectly.


Until my body decided to have its own idea as to what was normal.


Finishing breakfast with The Sheriff and sending him off to work with some comment whiich was no doubt along the lines of ‘keep them bitches in line’, I waited until he was of out sight before grabbing hold of the door and slowly began to count to ten.  Doing that twice, my head was able to stop spinning enough to walk up the stairs when I collapsed breathless onto my bed and decided that I was going to count my respirations and take my own blood pressure. 


Now considering I am left handed and therefore my dominant hand is my right hand, I had difficulty wrapping the cuff around my left arm and positioning my stethoscope under it.  Blowing the cuff up until I could feel my arm start to throb from lack of blood, I slowly released the pressure and became concerned when I didn’t hear the first sound of blood at 116 which is where it normally sits.  Instead I heard the first sound of blood swishing through my veins at 80 and the steady beat at 60.  So for those who are not studying to become nurses or are in the medical field, my blood pressure was 80/60 and a normal ‘healthy’ person, their blood pressure should be around 120/80.


Now before you get on your high horses and blame it on The Sheriff by stating that it appears he is an incredibly selfish bastard, I swear he had nothing to do with it.


Following the taking of my blood pressure and double checking because I am somewhat paranoid when I take a blood pressure manually, I thought that since it was not even seven o’clock in the morning that I would go back to bed for a nap.  So after having nearly a two and half hour nap, I felt a little better and decided that I would start off the day with a shower since I had clinicals that day.  Right away I should have paid attention to the fact that I had managed to stand for 10 minutes without swaying, grabbing hold of the wall to support myself or sitting on the bottom of the shower.  Now reflecting upon that, it should have been a warning sign that something was going to happen. 


Having stepped out of the shower and finished drying myself off, I was brushing my teeth when without warning the sensation of blacking out occurred and I grabbed hold of the edge of the vanity unit to keep myself upright. Deciding that it was time to ‘unsweep’ this health concern, I made my way into my room and once again collapsed on my bed.  And I opted to call the one person that would speak logically to a stubborn arse like myself and yes, I was going to call Santa.  Crying down the phone will being breathless, Lois told me that she was concerned and that I needed to ask Banana to take me to the hospital as this had gone on for too long.


With a small amount of hesitation, I made my way to Banana’s bedroom and asked if she could drive me to the hospital while swaying madly on the spot. Too which my life saviour threw her shit on the bed, got dressed and ordered me into the car after I got dressed and drove me to the hospital. Waiting as you normally do when being an outpatient in the Emergency Room, I learned a lot from how much you need for PH balance when growing your own dope, who was and wasn’t a junkie and how cold A&E is compared to Siberia.  Even though I had a winter jacket on and a long sleeved shirt under my tee-shirt, I was freezing and I was considering asking for a hospital gown before “Scarlett O’Chunky” was called out.

The nurse becomes the patient.

After waiting nearly two and a half hours to see a doctor, I think both Banana and I almost kissed the doctor who greeted us with glee.  Until I realised that the doctor was a female, I was ill and that it was highly inappropriate.  Following that, security would have been called and they were certainly not your average ‘rent a cop’ that is for sure.  Kaffy would have been impressed with the get up they had around their waist while no doubt whispering/singing ‘Rent-A-Cop’ to the tune of the Batman theme song.  Cue the 20/20 questions, patient background information since I had never been a patient at this hospital, the horror on the doctor’s face when I admitted that I had a heart attack at 15 and that I had died five times in the space of a 20 minute drive for the ambulance that is.  For those who are spiritual and want to know if the pearly white gates exist, they do unless you are going to hell.  Then you will be staring at flames and Satan greeting you instead of God/Allah/Buddha etc.


At this moment, I think I appeared to be a walking miracle until she snapped back into her doctor mode and suggested if I could hop up on the table.  Doing some neuro tests to see if the pin was sharp or dull with my eyes closed and pointing with my foot to her finger, I was then asked to do some walking exercises.  So while walking heel to toe, I must have looked like something out of a horror book because I swear my face went white and I started to become unsteady on my feet.  When it was suggested that I walk on the balls of my feet, I remember turning around and looking at the doctor like she had just suggested that I train myself to be a circus performer and walk across the tight rope.  Having being the good patient that I am, I walked unsteadily on my feet for a couple of steps before the doctor moved to support me.  In the situation of me going down like a building as I was pretty much resembling a heavily intoxicated person trying to walk in a straight line.


As a result of doing these tests and waiting while my junior doctor consulted with her senior, I was told that they had absolutely no idea what was wrong with me and that it wasn’t anything serious.  So basically, I got patted on the back for being one hell of a unique fucked up basket case that has no name to call it apart from being “Scarlett O’Chunky” and a referral letter to my GP telling him that I was required to see a Neurologist as an outpatient along with the fact that I also would be seeing a haematologist.  I can officially say: I am fucking over being sick and I am just over feeling like warmed up shit on a plate.


But you would think that was when the story would end and I would say ‘Until next time, cheers xo’; you are so fucking wrong.


When having left the hospital, Banana and I grabbed something to eat since I knew my blood sugar would be low and slowly made my way to Heaven.  As I was busily munching away on the delicious concoction that had my taste buds dancing with excitement, I went to put my spoon in my mouth when it almost went flying out of my hand and I glanced at Banana with tears in my eyes.  After a few tears escaped because I was hungry and something had prevented me from taking a bite of Heaven, it only than registered in my brain that we had just been hit up the arse.  Looking at Banana like she held the answers to the universe, she merged into the traffic and pulled up into the gas station after checking to make sure that her car wasn’t damaged.


Wrapping myself in my four layers of clothing and still freezing my arse off, I walked besides Banana to make sure that we didn’t need to exchange details of insurance when this little petite Asian lady was leaning against a sign post.  Forget the fact that I had been sick not even five minutes ago and nearly passing out at every opportunity of moving or standing; I, Scarlett was no longer an ill patient but rather I was a nurse and I had a patient going into respiratory distress.


Positioning the lady onto the edge of the garden and the foot path, I demanded that she put her head between her knees and slow her breathing down otherwise she was going to faint.  Slowly encouraging her to take a deep breath and slowly release it, I started doing a check over the patient for signs for serious signs of shock because her car was now a total write off.  After assessing her vital signs and making sure that she wasn’t suffering any chest pain due to wearing a seatbelt because we all know they are a bitch when it comes to whip lash, I managed to slow down her breathing.


The ambulance arrived along with the fire brigade, I reported information about to Elizabeth the female attending paramedic, who raised an eyebrow at what I was telling her had happened and what I did.  As Banana was being asked by the male paramedic if we attended Uni, what Uni we went too and what we studied (secretly he was chatting her up).  And after the paramedics left, I made sure that the lady would go to the hospital with her Aunt who was a doctor and get checked over before leaving the scene of the accident.

I believe that being incredibly ill that morning was a sign that I was meant to get physically and mentally assessed by someone who was actually a doctor and not a nursing student who liked to pretend that everything was a 100% okay.  Because it was evident this guy, who appeared to be nice, had no clue how to calm down a distraught woman who was going into shock and was having an anxiety attack.  Just got to say because I feel like jacking my ego up a few spots that Banana and I rocked that moment and we were such professionals, that I still pretty much grinning over what happened and how we handled it.


So after spending a few more days in bed recovering from my little holiday in A&E, the accident, and various competitions about how amazing my tutu is; I got a call from Lois telling me that my sister, Kaffy’s surgery had gone great.  That she was currently in the ward and proclaiming that the nurse had stolen her jelly and that her spoon was now missing.  If it was anything like encouraging my Grandad when recovering from his surgery, if the galaxy was still in front of him and if there were shooting stars, I am pretty much laughing my arse off at the image of straight arse Kaffy cracking a shit over missing jelly.


On that note, I wish Lois had recorded it for my own amusement and because I love Kaffy to death since she is my person, I would not be sharing it with you at all. #SorryNotSorry.


Got to love Snapchat messages.

However within a few days of coming home from surgery, I received a message stating that Kaffy had been rushed to hospital and was now being drip-fed fluids due to being severely dehydrated.  At the same time Lois was told that the nursing team in A&E had suspected that she may now have been experiencing a ‘minor’ infection so prescribed her some antibiotics to take when she was discharged from hospital.  It was only than the other day that I received a message from my brother, Frodo, stating ‘lovely night in hospital’.  The first thought that came to mind especially when being an older sister, ‘Oh fuck! Another sibling is in hospital! Shit!’ only to find out 20 minutes later that it was Kaffy again in hospital due to vomiting blood.


Cue the phone call to Lois and me bursting into hysterical tears.  You would think that I was the Mother judging by the fact Lois was the one who was having to console me over the phone and tell me that everything was going to be okay.  When instead it should have been Lois crying down the phone and me telling her in my best nurse voice: ‘Lois O’Chunky.  Smarten yourself up right this moment because she is going to be okay. The nursing staff have her best interests at heart and because she is a stubborn shit, she will pull through like any O’Chunky would.  Now stop crying!’  With that, I swear in the past week I have had more mood swings than a pregnant woman.  If I am not wanting to stay in bed and hide from the fact that I have a 1000 word and 2500 word essay due within the next four weeks or bursting into tears at any given moment, I am feeling emotionally abused by my own body.


So when waking this morning and rolling over to look at the time, I had made my decision within thirty seconds and it went something along the lines of ‘Fuck this! Going back to bed!’ Turning my back on the image of 07:10, I fell asleep for another hour and a bit and then when waking again, I knew today was going to be one of those days you wished you had stayed in bed or built a fort out of sheets and blankets to hide from the world.


If I had been at The Little White House, I would have collected an entire day worth of books that did not consist of textbooks but rather smut and Harry Potter, snacks and a bottle of water and spent the day in my little hiding place. That is until my moment of peace and calm was ruined when Lois’ face appeared in my door or rather flap from my tent claiming, “I have spent the last 15 minutes calling your name. Dinner is ready”.  I would like to mention this is rather a nice and polite version of what would be spoken however if it were my brothers, they would have screamed from the lounge or dining room:


Now how many fucks were in that sentence and welcome to the inner workings of my brothers when they are at their best.  And since I am related to them, I cannot help but laugh at them and love them even more.


Until Next Time,


Cheers xo

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