Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Consumption

The New Yorker is tailor-freaking-made for newFNP this week. A Talk of the Town piece about Pavement (you can bet newFNP has her tickets!!), an article about FB, another about Tavi and an article about J. Crew!! When in the world will she find the time to watch Sons of Anarchy??


But newFNP's life hasn't been all fashion and literature and hot, swaggering, conflicted motorcycle club VPs.

She has blissfully received one day of pediatrics and women's health in the midst of her grueling internal medicine and outpatient OB schedule. Except that life is not to blissful when one sees a 22-month old kid -- in the U.S. for four days -- with hemoptysis, such that his little jeans are covered with blood, and right apical rales that are gurgling to beat the band.

He had been in clinic two days prior and had been treated for a severe stomatitis. While the mom did note that he had the hemoptysis, the other provider treated the stomatitis and placed a PPD. The PPD was, as one might expect, stunningly positive.

It was no great stretch for newFNP to mask that sweet boy and send him to the emergency room after explaining her concern for active TB to the mom. And, of course, there this little boy remains, on oxygen with fulminant TB. It's hard for newFNP to imagine that those apical rales weren't present two days prior, but it's always easier to see things clearly in retrospect, is it not?

Monday, September 06, 2010

Mondays with Grandma

NewFNP's grandma is ninety-five. She has been demented for quite some time and this makes visits with her really difficult.


But lately, her health has been worse and, conversely, her cognition has been clearer. It's a gift to newFNP, but makes newFNP wonder how much longer she has. Last Monday, newFNP was snuggling with her and crying when her grandma pointedly and caringly said, "Honey, I don't want you to cry for me."

Today, newFNP was holding her hand when her grandma looked into her eyes, tears rolling down her smooth cheeks and said, "It's too hard to... it's too hard to..."

NewFNP said asked her what was too hard, even though she knew.

"It's too hard to say goodbye," her grandma whispered and then closed her eyes.

And it is. It is a fucking nightmare to say goodbye to someone you love so dearly, ninety-five years old or not. As her grandma slept, newFNP spent hours quietly sharing memories, offering words of peace and watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She held her hand and kissed her forehead before she left for the evening.