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Hug a nurse. Right now. 

A nurse saved my life last week. Another nurse saved my life this past June. Yet another one saved my life in January 2016. How did they save my life? They paid attention to the small details, such as my oxygen levels or exactly how medically dehydrated/malnutrished I was. These details are the kind of thing most doctors don’t pay close attention to.

I’ve complained a lot about nurses over the years. Like everything in life, there are 9 good ones to 1 bad one. I’ve had my share of terrible nurses, but I’ve also had my share of fabulous ones. 

Last week a nurse in the ER insisted that I be admitted to the hospital, even when the doctor decided I was fine to go home. It was “just a virus.” If the nurse hadn’t intervened and backed me up when I told the doctor there was no way in hell I was going home, I would probably be on a ventilator right now, or worse.

In June a nurse ran an additional blood panel for me when I was hospitalized for an infection, because something didn’t seem right to her. I’m not sure if she got in trouble, but she figured out I was septic before any doctor did. 

In January 2016 a nurse saw me stumble into the ER, barely able to breathe due to some sort of asthmatic and brochial spasm, and within five minutes my port was accessed, I was pumped full of steroids and ativan and I was suddenly able to breathe without any effort from me. 

Nurses get looked over in favor of doctors… I can’t say how many times a nurse saved me or a friend/relative of mine, but the doctor took the credit. Remember, when you’re inpatient in a hospital the nurses are there 24:7, but a doctor is there anywhere from ten to 30 minutes, on average. 

So thank a nurse. Right now. Go. 

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