About the writers
"Nurses are a unique kind. They have this insatiable need to care for others, which is both their greatest strength and fatal flaw. "
- Jean Watson
Hello world! My name is Bella, and I'm a cardiac nurse of 5 years. I've been on the same unit my whole career, a cardiac telemetry unit in a major city hospital in the US. Considered a progressive care unit, I see relatively stable patients most shifts, but crashing patients are not uncommon. Since it is a cardiac unit, the patient population tends to be a little more on the geriatric side, but I often have young patients, too. We also get many vascular disease patients on our unit. Heart failure, acute coronary syndrome, coronary artery disease, and peripheral artery disease are probably the most frequent primary diagnoses we get, but I see many other things as well. Sometimes, when the hospital is bursting at the seams, we get totally unrelated conditions like lung disease or even just musculoskeletal trauma. One thing is for sure though: There's never a shortage of stories to tell! I used to do a lot of creative writing when I was younger and always dreamed of writing a fiction book, but recently I came to a new realization. My uncle texted me one day saying, “I still hope you'll use your writing skills to do some sort of book or online blog or something about your medical experiences.” At first, I didn't think much of it. But then, something happened.
A couple weeks ago, one of our patients coded. It was brutal and clearly a loss from the start, but we did what we could to revive him. Unfortunately, we could not, and the doctor called his time of death after 15 minutes of CPR. I did 3 rounds of CPR myself, breaking several of the poor man's rib bones, and despite the fact I've been in plenty of codes before, for some reason this one wasn't sitting well with me. I struggled with it for days, replaying the whole code over and over in my head. I felt a little ashamed of myself for being so upset by it for so long. It made me feel weak, like everyone else had already moved on except me. I thought that, since I have a decent amount of experience, it shouldn't be bothering me this much. Then it clicked. This was the first code in years that I had participated in that did not achieve ROSC (return of spontaneous circulation). Usually, we get a pulse back and send the patient to ICU where sometimes they recover and sometimes they end up passing away anyways. But it had been years since the last time I was in a code where the patient stayed dead. That's why it was weighing on me so heavily.
I posted about my experience on Reddit (vaguely to respect HIPAA) and found that writing about it helped me process it and move on. It was then that I realized writing about my experiences is the best way for me to process them, and I remembered my uncle's suggestion. So, I decided to try starting a blog. And who knows? I'm always looking for my next side hustle. Maybe I'll expand this to include resources for new nurses or health education or something.
Please be polite and appropriate in any replies. My posts are meant for entertainment and informational purposes and will never share patient information. Names in stories are pseudonyms and not actual patient names. Thanks for visiting, and I hope you enjoy the content!
- Bella, RN
BOOM! I woke up as my car had crashed into the back of a parked vehicle at 40 mph. The police sirens soon followed. It was 3:00 am, and the bars had just closed; there were hundreds of people everywhere. The next thing I remember was lying on the cold floor of a holding cell in the county jail.
​
It was 2014 when I decided to follow my boyfriend at the time, three states away, and move away from everything I had ever known, including my 5-year-old son, who stayed with my parents. I intended to get settled in the new state and then move my son out with me. Within about six months, the relationship fell apart, and I found myself kicked out of his apartment. I was homeless. My dog and I lived in my car for about eight months because my ex and I were still kind of talking, kind of hanging out every now and then, but mostly fighting...and drinking. I got a job at a local restaurant and bar. It quickly became a habit to get out of work with whatever money I had made and head straight for the bar. Within weeks, I was partying with people from work, drinking until all hours of the morning, and abusing drugs. Mostly cocaine, but marijuana and hallucinogens were present every now and then. Somehow, I managed to convince my dad (back home, three states away) to send me money so that I could put down first and last months' rent on an apartment. I moved in, and a girl I worked with moved in as my roommate within a month or two. Now, you may be thinking, 'wow, things are looking up!' But, in reality, the apartment only gave me a space to continue the lifestyle I was living without having to be in public. One night, I went out with people from work. We were drinking, using drugs, and partying the night away. At 3:00 am, the bars closed, and I headed for my car. I remember getting in the car, and that's it. The next thing I knew, I was slamming into the back of a parked car, directly outside of a bar where hundreds of people were on the sidewalk. By the grace of some higher power, I didn't hit a person. The next thing I remember was waking up inside a holding cell.
​
I was charged with a DUI, got ARD, carried out my six months of probation, and paid my fines. You would think that was my rock bottom, but it wasn't. I continued partying even after that accident. Thank god I didn't have a car. The restaurant and bar were both within walking distance from the apartment, so what else did I need, right? One weekend in June, I was partying for three days straight. I don't think I had slept at all. It was very late Saturday night (or at that point Sunday morning). The sun was coming up. For a month or two before that night, I had been talking to a guy I met on social media. He lived four states away. We had been talking nearly every day and had advanced from texting to calling to video chatting. I had not really told him the extent of my lifestyle at that time. I called him that Sunday morning, sobbing. I was laying on my couch, holding a knife, thinking that the world would be better off without me. He had been sober for 9 months at the time. He looked up AA meetings in my area, took a screenshot, and sent it to me. I don't know what came over me that day. I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to live either. I knew that what I had been doing wasn't working. So, maybe I needed to try something new. I picked the first meeting on the list and got an Uber there.
​
That was June 26, 2016. I continued going to meetings every day. It was working. The man from social media and I were getting closer. In July, he flew out to the state I was in. He never went home. In March of 2017, he and I moved back to where I was originally from. We got pregnant and we had a beautiful son. Life was good. He and I bought a house, I had my older son back, his daughters would come visit on a 50/50 schedule with their mom, and I was sober.
​
We got engaged in 2019. In February of 2021, at the height of COVID-19, I got the worst news someone could ever receive. My dad, who was my favorite person, my cheerleader, my world, was diagnosed with terminal cancer and had less than six months to live. My sobriety was at risk with this heavy news. Instead of turning to drugs and alcohol to numb the pain, I decided to go back to college. I had taken a number of classes from 2006 to 2010, but I never earned a degree. When I started at the local community college, I was also caring for my dad full-time. I was retaking a few science classes that had expired, so I could apply to nursing school that fall. My dad died on June 24, 2016. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest. My whole world collapsed when I lost him. But, again, instead of turning to ways to numb my pain, I submerged myself in college. I started seeing a therapist as well. That fall, I applied to nursing school and got in!
​
Through my associate's degree, I was a 4.0 student, often driven to perfection. I think that was probably a coping mechanism that allowed me to feel some sense of control over a part of my world. I graduated from nursing school in May of 2023. I married the man I met on the internet in June 2023. That fall, I was working as a Registered Nurse in the Intensive Care Unit, and I began a bachelor's degree program to earn my BSN. I graduated with my BSN in August of 2024, also with a 4.0 GPA. It's now fall of 2025, and I am a leader in my unit, involved in multiple committees at work, and preparing my applications for CRNA school. Most importantly, my husband and I have our four kids, who are happy, healthy, and thriving.
This is the first time that I have put this story into words. It's a part of myself that I am proud of (where I came from to where I am now), but others hear the phrase "drug addict" or "alcoholic" and immediately pass judgment. I am telling this story to inspire people, to help change the stigma around addiction and mental health. People can, and do change. If you or someone you know needs help, please reach out to me, to a friend, to a loved one, or to a professional. It's never too late to change your story, create your perfect life, and have your happy ending.
​
-
Nora, RN, ADN, BSN, CCRN, NIHSS, TNCC
-
(prospective, hopeful, determined, future CRNA)