I hear my preceptor's voice in my head about everything. I hear her explaining how to make the decision to give this med, to hold another med, to reposition, to wean oxygen, and most recently, when to change lanes in traffic. Her voice is very calm and she has a Dutch accent. She's great. I'm glad I don't have my friend's preceptor. Her voice is a few octaves higher and several decibels louder. Having her voice in my head might incite a new anxiety prescription.
I've been told a lot lately that I need to ask more questions and ask them sooner. I think it's this thing deep inside of me that needs to be reprogrammed. I can fix things. I've been pretty good at it, actually. At Curves, I would just wander around until I found something broken, and I'd fix it. It's instinct. For now, I need to take my fix-it hat off and put on my inquisitive hat. I need to ask before I fix things.
This is my biggest struggle in the PICU right now. Emotionally, I've been pretty stable, actually. I think it's our patient load. Many of our patients have been awake. And maybe I'm growing some thicker skin, too.
It's time for bed. Goodnight.