That Awkward Moment When…

I know.  There are a lot of awkward moments in my job.  So I’ll be quick to clarify.

That awkward moment when…you save someone’s life and no one else* knows it.
(This does not include the responding nurses/physician!)

I had my first postpartum hemorrhage the other day.  It was terrifying.  Again, I don’t tell you that as a new nurse whose experience barely extends beyond the imaginative, scenario-based world of training.  And while the scene was unforgettable–arguably, indescribable, as after several edits, I still don’t feel I’ve captured the full chaos of the situation–one thing will always stick with me.

I was the only one who realized what was going on.

I’ll set the stage for you.  I’m about at the end of a recovery after a fairly difficult vaginal delivery.  The patient is doing fine.  Baby is doing fine.  The mom has some visitors in her room and they’re casually chatting while I’m giving her some pain medication.  However, as I’m pushing the med, the patient starts to feel sick.  I hand her a bucket and she is very clearly nauseated, retching but unable to produce anything.  I think to myself, perhaps she’s simply naïve to narcotics.  That could be the case.  Some folks are extremely sensitive to narcs and will become sick quickly after an IV push.  However, it was just as I was starting to think that this was pretty intense to be a reaction to a narcotic, it happened–

A loud splash, as if someone had thrown a bucket of water on the floor.  I look down to see the biggest puddle of red I’ve ever seen creeping rapidly toward my shoes.  And then, a family member’s reaction so misplaced, I can barely believe what I’m hearing…

Hemorrhage 1

Now, let me pause here to explain to you how delivery beds are made.  They have a bucket underneath them that is specifically designed to catch blood during a delivery.  That bucket was in the path of this gush.  Delivery beds aren’t thin, either, meaning there is a lot of distance, including mattress and metal pieces, to travel through in order to reach the floor.  That’s a lot of stuff between the patient and the floor–plenty of material to slow down a fluid spill.  For blood to have hit the floor hard enough to splash…wow.  That’s a lot of blood.

All of this crossed my mind in the span of a few milliseconds before I reached for my poor patient’s boggy uterus and hit the emergency bells.

Hemorrhage 2

If, by some strange coincidence, you realize as you read this that you were among the family members who were sitting in the room when this happened, I really didn’t mean to be rude.  Let’s just say I was stunned–flabbergast–appalled at the thought that you were sitting at bedside during a massive postpartum hemorrhage and laughing as your family member was bleeding to death.

Don’t get me wrong: I don’t expect those guests to be medical experts.  But there is something strange and unsettling about people who laugh at of a volume of blood that is rarely shown in appropriate circumstances on TV, much less seen in a real-life situation involving a loved one.  I argue not for the medical proficiency of her guests, as this was not necessary to deduce that serious trouble was amiss.  Rather, there was a sickening lack of basic concern for the crimson pool that grew by the second and the simultaneously dwindling consciousness of the woman in bed.

At any rate, after an initial moment of stunned silence, the family members left the room, and in a matter of seconds, the cavalry arrived.  The patient was barely conscious, her blood pressure so low that the machine couldn’t read it.  I had pulled back the blankets to reveal a pool of blood in the bed, soaking the mattress and sheets from foot to waist.  One nurse was starting a large bore IV while another opened up the pitocin and fluids that were already running, infusing them in at full blast.  Another nurse put an oxygen mask over my patient just as the doc came running in, slid a hand into my patient’s uterus and pulled out some of the biggest clots I’ve ever seen.

In all, we estimated somewhere around 2.5 liters of blood lost in less than a minute.  Really, 2.5 liters.  Consider that te average human adult has somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 liters of blood circulating.  Approximately half of my patient’s blood had exsanguinated and now lay in the bed or on the floor.

After stabilizing my patient and cleaning up the veritable mess that remained, we let the visitors back in at her request.  I felt bad for the poor girl.  She had been up for over 24 hours, had gone through hell in labor, and now looked like death warmed over (and that is no exaggeration).  Her blood levels, even on the CBC immediately after the bleed, were low.  I expected she’d receive a blood transfusion before my shift was up.

But when her visitors came marching back in, to my amazement, they seemed to have forgotten the events that led to their abrupt eviction and instead, peppered my patient with comments like this:

Hemorrhage 3

Hemorrhage 4

I know what you’re thinking.  They’re probably just being nice, you’ll say.  They’re probably trying to make her feel better, you reason.

No.

Simply put, no.

I only wish their reaction could be attributed to some benevolent desire to make this patient feel like less of a train wreck than she was.  In fact, I made every effort to believe they were only being nice until I was eventually confronted by the uncomfortable facts: they were nothing short of completely sincere.

To boot, even my patient didn’t seem to understand the fact that she had done the Texas two-step with death that night and come out on top, even when I explained to her the extent of her bleeding, the meaning of her CBC results, and the fact that she might get blood to prevent spontaneous bleeds that could result from extremely low blood counts.

So it was an odd night to say the least.  I headed home feeling a bit off, knowing that I had done something incredible, but with very little acknowledgement.  It’s happened before, and I know it will happen again.  It’s just strange to be the one who experiences it in full: the crash in vital signs, the blood, the near-fatality, the incredible response of the staff…

…and to go from all that adrenaline, action and real-life heroism to a patient and family whose biggest concern is…when the mom can have something to eat.

However, as one of my more thoughtful coworkers pointed out, maybe it’s better that way.

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A Cruise to Sciatica

This post is admittedly a little random, but it focuses on two major features of working as a nurse on my unit and working nights: first, the randomness that defines the hours between 0300-0600 (commonly known in my workplace and many others as “the wall”, wherein everyone is so tired and so slap happy that you never know what the conversation will bring) and second, the long-running tradition of teasing the charge nurses.

Charge nurses have a tough job.  I’ve been a charge nurse before, and it’s certainly not a job I envy.  In charge of organizing the other nurses, making patient assignments, and keeping the floor afloat, charge nurses are used to rolling with the punches, especially the ones that come from their own staff.

Enjoy a sample of a typical discussion right around 0400, when most of us are actively “hitting the wall”.

Sciatica, Greece 1

Sciatica, Greece 2

Sciatica, Greece 3

Sciatica, Greece 4

Sciatica, Greece 5

Sciatica, Greece 6

To all the charge nurses everywhere…thank you for what you do!  And remember, we only tease the ones we love!

The L&D Perspective in a NICU Habitat

L&D nurses and NICU nurses see babies differently.  It’s something I’m thankful for every time we send one of our kiddos to the unit.  However, it’s only when the NICU is overflowing and it’s my turn to float that I begin to realize exactly how big the divide is between the NICU and L&D perspective…

NICU vs LD 1

NICU vs LD 2

NICU vs LD 3

NICU vs LD 4

NICU vs LD 5

NICU vs LD 6

NICU vs LD 7

Fetal Heart Monitoring: How to Make an L&D Nurse Run

It isn’t uncommon in the course of my shift for me to be sitting at the computer, happily charting away, when a well-intentioned family member/friend/visitor of a laboring mom bellies up to the counter, locks eyes with the big-screen fetal heart monitor, and starts asking questions.

Now, fetal heart monitoring is much more complicated than what I can explain in the span of this blog.  There is introductory (basic) FHM, which, once passed, is one of the factors that allows a newly minted L&D nurse to work independently.  Then there is intermediate FHM, which is a follow-up course that goes into more detail and depth on how to read, interpret and respond to the information we gather from our laboring moms and babies.

So what’s the big deal with fetal heart monitoring?  Pretty easy: when you walk into a room and see a laboring mother, you see one patient.  I see two (at least, assuming this isn’t a multiple birth!).  However, of those two patients, there is one patient that I cannot directly assess because that patient is inside the other patient!  So why do I watch the monitor like a hawk?  Because the information on that monitor is my only direct look into how patient #2 is doing.

Let’s get into some basics.  A fetal heart strip is divided into two parts: the top part is the fetal heart rate itself.  This is represented by a line that moves vertically across the page to represent the baby’s heart rate in beats per minute (bpm).  The bottom part is tracing the mother’s contractions.

FHR Basics 1

FHR Basics 2

FHR Basics 3

Now, in a normal term pregnancy, I expect to see a certain amount of variability in the fetal heart rate, or the “bounce” present in the FHR.  Variability is determined by looking at the fetal heart rate pattern between contractions and is a result of the fetus’s immature sympathetic and parasympathetic (vying nervous systems) pulling on each other like a tug-of-war.  Sympathetic nervous system gets the upper hand and you have an increase in FHR.  Parasympathetic nervous system gets the upper hand and you have a decrease in FHR.  Pretty easy, right?

The FHR in the first example above tells me that baby is probably pretty darn happy in there.  Especially if there are accelerations present, this typically indicates a content baby with a good placenta and good oxygen exchange.

Since what goes up must come down, there also exists a phenomenon called decelerations in fetal heart monitoring.

FHR Basics 4

Early decelerations are usually a sign of head compression.  When a contraction squeezes on baby and baby is getting low in the vaginal vault (and hence, close to delivery), this can trigger the baby’s vagus nerve (not Vegas, vagus!), which in turn slows the heart rate as the contraction gets stronger and squeezes harder.  With this kind of deceleration, the heart rate should return to normal as the contraction lets up.  L&D nurses like to see early decels because it usually means there’s a baby coming soon!

Late decelerations, on the other hand, especially if paired with minimal or absent variability, can be a sign of fetal distress.  What a late deceleration tells me as an L&D nurse is that baby isn’t coping well with the stress of labor.  During a contraction, blood flow to baby is temporarily suspended as the uterus contracts and cuts off the vessels leading into and out of the uterus.  Normally, the blood that remains in the placenta and in baby during a contraction is oxygenated enough that a baby typically won’t notice the temporary lack of fresh O2 during a contraction.  However, if baby is stressed from labor and her oxygen levels are low anyway, she may really take offense at her O2 source being cut off for any amount of time, and as a result, her heart rate drops as she’s not able to compensate.  Of note: late decelerations can also be a result of an epidural, which can decrease maternal blood pressure and therefore decreases the amount of blood and O2 going to baby.

Fixes for late decelerations include: changing mom’s position to improve blood flow to the uterus, placing O2 on mom (and thus increasing the O2 going to baby), turning down/turning off Pitocin (decrease the frequency and strength of contractions so baby isn’t getting squeezed as much), turning up IV fluids (increasing the blood volume so baby is better perfused), IV ephedrine (a drug that increases maternal blood pressure if that’s the culprit) and, of course, delivery (no more contractions–yay!).  If you’ve ever seen an L&D nurse (or perhaps a crowd of them) come running into a room, throw a laboring mom all over the bed and go through some variation of the steps above, you’ve probably witnessed them reacting to late decelerations.

Variable decelerations typically indicate that the umbilical cord is getting pinched.  They usually happen with or around contractions.  Whether baby is laying on it, squeezing it (I’ve seen it happen via ultrasound!), or the cord is around baby’s neck, body, foot, etc., if you’re seeing variable decels, usually the cord is in a wonky spot.  Thankfully, variable decels aren’t usually very concerning unless they’re really deep (down into the 80-bpm or lower range) or they don’t recover fairly quickly.

Prolonged decelerations, much like late decelerations, are a sign of fetal intolerance of labor.  The fixes are typically the same as those listed for late decels, though it has been my experience that especially with prolonged decels, if mom doesn’t deliver soon, she’ll probably be heading back for a C-section.

FHR Basics 5

Fetal tachycardia, or a fetal heart rate with a baseline of 160bpm or greater lasting for at least 10 minutes, can be normal, especially in a particularly active baby.  However, it can also be a sign of distress and indicate anything from maternal infection to fetal heart problems.  I have seen tachycardic strips as a result of mom smoking a cigarette before coming into triage.  I’ve also seen tachycardic strips as a result of uterine rupture and placental abruption.  I’ve seen even more as a result of maternal infection (whether that be an infection of the amniotic fluid or something as normal as the flu).  As a result, most L&D nurses hate, hate, hate to see strips where baby is tachy as it is usually a sign of trouble brewing.

Fetal bradycardia, while not uncommon when nearing delivery, is one of those things most L&D nurses really watch for.  Unless you’re close to delivery, there is no good reason for fetal bradycardia (at least that I’ve seen!), and most fetuses that exhibit sustained bradycardia are headed for the OR if they don’t shape up!

So, now that we’ve gone through the basics, perhaps you can appreciate the following.  I call it, “An Assessment of Fetal Well-Being  Based on the Facial Expressions of Your Average L&D RN”.

FHR 1

FHR 2

FHR 3

FHR 4

FHR 5

FHR 6

PS: if you’re interested in further exploring the concepts in this post, please reference the following webpage, which I have found to be very thorough!  Real-life FHM strips included!

http://www.brooksidepress.org/Products/Military_OBGYN/Textbook/LaborandDelivery/electronic_fetal_heart_monitoring.htm

 

Punting the Pain Scale

If you’re even remotely trained in anything related to medicine and/or if you have ever received any medical care of any kind, chances are, you’ve encountered the 0-10 pain scale that medical professionals use to assess the presence and intensity of pain in adults and older children.

Up until I worked in L&D, this scale worked pretty well to guide my practice in terms of treating and controlling pain.  In oncology, I had plenty of experience not only in using this scale, but understanding the nature of oncologic pain and keeping my patients comfortable despite their cancer, chemotherapy, radiation, surgery, and often rather dismal states of mind.

But when I moved to L&D, the way the pain scale–and indeed, pain itself–was approached was completely redefined.

On the medical units, pain was the enemy.  It was something to be kept at bay.  It was to be treated immediately, reassessed constantly, and warded off with some of our strongest drugs.

But on L&D, pain is an entirely different entity.  While some pain in L&D can be pathophysiological in nature, the vast majority of pain in L&D is not only normal, but it’s a good sign.  It’s a sign of a healthy and steadily progressing labor that will eventually lead to the birth of a baby.

Long gone were the days of running down the halls for pain medication.  If a woman wanted an epidural, she faced a 1-hour wait, assuming the anesthesiologist wasn’t in surgery.  If she wanted IV or oral pain medication, that was at the discretion of the OB and myself as the nurse in charge of her care.  Indeed, pain is part of the program on my new unit, and while it is arguably some of the most intense pain a woman will experience in her life, it is also universally accepted by the professionals on my unit as all in a shift’s work.

Along with understanding this new place pain had in my practice, I also began to understand the varying levels of pain tolerance in women and what these different levels and tolerances can mean when attempting to reconcile the subjective information the patient is giving you with the objective data you can gather on physical assessment.

A true story from my orientation experience: my preceptor, Melody, and I were finishing up a recovery on a patient who had recently delivered.  We had stepped out of the room and were hanging around the desk getting the chart ready to transfer and we kept hearing a lot of shouting from triage, and both of us, anticipating a fast delivery, got a little antsy.

About ten minutes later, my coworker, Karen, comes marching down the hall with her patient, a first-time mom whose water has broken and who appears to be in some rather intense labor.

A lesson I had learned early-on in L&D was this: especially in women experiencing childbirth for the first time, a pain rating can be a real wild card.  For some women, early childbirth is the most painful thing they have experienced in their lives, so when you get a first time mom who is having mild contractions but is nauseated and breathing through them as if she’s about to imminently deliver a baby elephant, you have to ask yourself two questions: is she just naïve to pain, or is something else going on here?  In the case of these patients (Karen’s included), one of three things was happening.

Option #1: Your patient has a low pain tolerance.

Often times, this is exactly what’s happening when you get a first-time mom who is presenting with pain that seems disproportionate to her labor stage.  In fact, that is so often the case that L&D nurses can get into the nasty habit of assuming that it’s true all the time.

Pain Scale 1

Pain Scale 2

Pain Scale 3

Pain Scale 4

Pain Scale 5

Karen was very fast to assume that her patient was simply not tolerating early labor all that well.  And in her defense, I was guilty of doing the same thing as were many of my coworkers, especially when it comes to a first-timer who was dilated to 1, wanted to go natural and was already rating her pain a 10/10.  That can be the makings of a very long, painful shift–for everyone.

However, the events of the next 30 minutes would teach me a lesson I’ll remember the rest of my life.

Complete 1

Complete 2

Complete 3

Complete 4

Option #2: Your patient is progressing faster than your objective assessment is telling you.

Yep, ol’ Karen had made a newbie’s mistake.  You see, the alternative to Karen’s patient having a low pain tolerance is this: Karen’s patient is presenting with a disproportionate amount of pain to her contraction strength/dilation/labor stage because her labor is moving faster than what we can physically assess.

Especially in a primip (first-time mom), you can see how this scenario could take a nurse by surprise.  I’d wager that 99% of the time, Karen would probably have been right in assuming her patient was, for lack of a better term, just a little bit of a wimp.  Dilated to 1, having mild contractions and presenting with that kind of pain?  Chances are, she’s probably not going to deliver imminently, despite what it may look like.

However, some women–even with their first babies–move so fast through labor and deliver so quickly that there is little to no opportunity for the nurse to reassess her patient’s pain before the baby is very nearly looking her in the eye.  I had no doubt that the contractions Karen initially palpated were mild.  But what about the one two minutes after that?  Five minutes?  Ten?  Chances are, if Karen had reassessed her patient just a tad bit earlier, she would have noticed a change in the quality of her contractions.  Especially in unmedicated first-time moms, reporting high levels of pain even in early labor isn’t necessarily unusual, and Karen likely had no reason to reassess her patient until the patient was presenting with a more urgent symptoms: the urge to poop, the urge to push, or a panic-inducing level of pain.

However, though that is the likely scenario, that may not have been the case at all.  Some women’s cervixes seem to dilate with contractions that, by all accounts, shouldn’t cause cervical change, and it isn’t until she’s complete and screaming for her nurse that you realize she’s delivering off contractions that are every 5-6 minutes apart and moderate in strength at best.  It’s mind-boggling and rare, but it does happen.

Option #3: Your patient is not mentally prepared for labor.

To pause and backtrack for a moment, please note that psychological distress, whether that be fear, feeling out of control, a pre-diagnosed condition like anxiety, a history of sexual abuse, and other emotional factors can also affect the physical level of pain reported by the patient.  I’ve found that not only can these factors present like pain on their own, but they can also intensify and aggravate pre-existing pain.

A triage patient who sticks with me to this day is a young first-time mom who was 39 weeks and came in for contractions.  When I went to the front desk to bring her back to triage, I found her sitting with legs spread in the assessment chair, sobbing and vomiting into a trashcan with several family members hovering nearby.

As you might imagine, remembering my experience on orientation, I hustled this patient back to the triage room and immediately began to gather data.

To my surprise, as I began to interact with the patient and explained what I was doing and looking for as I assessed her, her pain dissipated before my eyes.  In the end, I concluded she was having extremely mild Braxton-Hicks (false labor) contractions and she was sent home.

As she was discharged, I reviewed what had happened.  The strength of those Braxton-Hicks contractions between the time she arrived and the time I sent her home hadn’t changed.  Her dilation hadn’t changed.  Her baby hadn’t changed position.  And she was still 39 weeks pregnant.  But when she came into triage, she had been crying and puking into a trashcan, and now she was disappearing out the double-doors, waving to me with a smile on her face.  What was the difference?

I had taken the time to build trust with her, teach her about the things that worried her, provided her with reassurance and education so she felt better prepared for the labor that was to come, and eased the worry from her mind.  And that rapport and confidence in one’s nurse can be some of the most potent pain relief of all.

Option #4: Your patient is being induced.

I know, I know. I added an option.  Now, this clearly doesn’t apply to Karen’s patient in the scenario above, but it does apply to many, many patients who will have babies in the US.  I hate to be the first to tell you this, but especially if you’re a first-time mom, induction can be painful.

First, before we even induce you, we have to check your cervix.  That involves a vaginal exam that can be rather unpleasant, especially if your cervix isn’t really ready for labor and is high in the vaginal vault and posterior (off to the back of baby’s presenting part–hopefully, the head!).  Cervical exams in this stage can feel like we’re reaching for your tonsils, and this is just the first of many.

If your cervix isn’t soft and dilated to a certain degree, we will likely choose to give you medication that will make your cervix thin and dilate before we start an IV medication like Pitocin to start, strengthen and stimulate contractions.  The reason being, if your cervix isn’t soft and thinned to a certain degree, it probably won’t open, even if we do get your contractions nice and strong and regular.

These medications are usually given vaginally, so that means another vaginal exam AND the added bonus of receiving a medication that can make you raw and sensitive in the area from which that you’re soon to push a baby.  Note that you can get multiple doses all of these drugs, and you will get more and more sensitive with each dose.  You will also get rechecked with each dose, so chalk up another vaginal exam with every drug.

If your cervix is stubborn and doesn’t want to change with medication, there is a method that is commonly used to manually (physically) dilate a cervix.  Some physicians will attempt to manually dilate digitally (with their fingers), but many will attempt to place a little balloon in the cervix, inflate the balloon, and therefore manually dilate the cervix.  If you thought the drugs were painful, I’d suggest before they use the foley balloon on you that you request to be discharge, pack your bags, and go home assuming you and baby are medically cleared.  (**Little known fact: as long as your water isn’t broken and you and baby are deemed safe after 1-2 hours of observation, this is perfectly acceptable!**)

When your cervix is favorable, unless you are already contracting steadily on your own, Pitocin is next on the list.  This is an IV drug that will make your contractions stronger, closer together, and more regular.  Those super-charged contractions are going to push baby down on what is likely a very sore private area, and most women who undergo inductions typically elect to receive epidurals so that they don’t end up experiencing the full scope of pain involved in induction.

So, with all that said, if your patient is presenting with higher levels of pain than what you’d expect, ask yourself the question: was she induced/is she being induced?  And if so, what with?

To Conclude…

Pain is a vital part of assessing patients in labor, but there is an added component of assessing a laboring patient for pain that the current pain scale model does not adequately encompass.  As a result, the nurse must compensate for this lack when talking with a laboring patient about pain.

To get an accurate pain assessment, make sure your patient feels as supported and informed in her care as possible.  Do your best to encourage and educate her if you sense her tolerance for pain is limited.  Be aware of treatments and medications that may cause the patient’s pain rating to be higher (or lower!) than expected.And of course, don’t dismiss a patient’s reports of increasing amounts of pain as blowing smoke unless you’re ready to catch!

An Unimpressed RN

Dear sir,

I know you probably don’t remember me due to the combination of what was likely alcohol, drugs and God-only-knows-what-else in your system, but I was the L&D nurse with your girlfriend last night when she delivered her 9th child.  If you do have anything resembling a fleeting memory of me, it probably looks something like this:

Unimpressed

On second thought, I think the above image would be giving your brain function at the time a bit too much credit.  Perhaps the image below would ring a bell.

Unimpressed Under the Influence

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

It had been a pretty decent shift to that point. We were pushing, the doctor was on the way, and baby was tolerating the chaos very nicely.

Dear Sir 1

 

It was all a piece of L&D cake.  That is, it was until you walked in.

Dear Sir 2

 

Verbose as you’d ever be, you made your entrance into the delivery room just ahead of the doctor.  Your girlfriend, apparently used to this, was about as impressed as I was.

Dear Sir 3

 

However, it seemed that even her sharp remarks and desperate attempts to prevent you from making a fool of yourself were doomed to fail.

Dear Sir 4

 

Indeed.  Where would we be without you.

At any rate, the baby delivered easily as one would expect for baby #9 and was happy and snug with mom for a good 30 minutes while we got her cleaned up.  You wandered around the room, raving like the lunatic you are about how blissfully (sloppily) happy you were, bumping into the surgical techs, babbling about your “gangsta” status, and making a general fool of yourself.

When your girlfriend eventually asked me to get baby’s weight, measurements and footprints, I happily obliged.

Dear Sir 5

 

Happily, that is, until I realized that with baby away from mom, you felt compelled to join us.

Dear Sir 6

Dear Sir 7

 

You spent about five minutes taking countless selfies with your newborn daughter that included suggestive facial expressions, gang signs, sexually explicit hand gestures and more babble about how “fly”, “gangsta” and “fo’ real” you are.

As I found myself actively resisting the growing urge to reach across the bassinet and give you the sucker punch you deserve, you realized what I was up to as I finished up the footprinting process.  And that’s when you asked the crowning question of the night:

Dear Sir 8

 

To your negligible credit, you did have the presence of mind to inform me as I finished up footprinting the baby that you probably shouldn’t hold her….at least, not yet.  Bravo for your introspection.

As I see it, the score goes about like this: you, sir, have a girlfriend, a new baby, and about 10 other children (and that is no exaggeration) that don’t need you drunk, high and acting a fool.  They need a father and they will only ever have one.

Good luck to you, sir, and moreover, to your girlfriend and children.  They’re going to need it.

Signed,

An Unimpressed RN

PS: Proper storage of your first photos with your daughter is important.  I suggest:
1. A blazing campfire
2. An industrial-strength shredder
3. The bottom of a very deep ocean/lake

Trust me.  One day when she’s old enough to understand, she’ll thank you for destroying the evidence.

Newton’s Laws of L&D Physics: A Nurse At Rest…

It isn’t that L&D nurses are lazy.  Hardly, in fact.  It’s just that we get so little down time that when we do find ourselves with a second to relax, it can be difficult to pick up momentum and start moving again.

And though we may gripe about the slow shifts where it’s hard to stay focused (much less awake!), we secretly kind of need these shifts every now and then…

Laws of Motion 1

Laws of Motion 2

Laws of Motion 3

Laws of Motion 4

Laws of Motion 5

Laws of Motion 6