Never Going Back
I have spent three hundred and thirty one hours in Long Island hospitals during my time as a nursing student and every single day has been the same. By the fiftieth hour, walking down those dimly lit white halls, with blaring heartmonitors, and floors that reeked of urine and cleaning fluid felt familiar too me. However, somtimes the atmosphere would awkwardly change, like when I would have to speak to patients and their family about hospice and palliative care, it almost made the halls feel dimmer than usual. But, my last time down those halls was very different, it was almost as if those hallways became silent and pitch black. It was the day I had to tell a mother that her twelve year old son would never make it to his eighteenth
I have spent three hundred and thirty one hours in Long Island hospitals during my time as a nursing student and every single day has been the same. By the fiftieth hour, walking down those dimly lit white halls, with blaring heartmonitors, and floors that reeked of urine and cleaning fluid felt familiar too me. However, somtimes the atmosphere would awkwardly change, like when I would have to speak to patients and their family about hospice and palliative care, it almost made the halls feel dimmer than usual. But, my last time down those halls was very different, it was almost as if those hallways became silent and pitch black. It was the day I had to tell a mother that her twelve year old son would never make it to his eighteenth