My Passion

(Now, get your mind out of the gutter...)

I've written before about my volunteering at the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) and working with premies. This Monday was especially busy. When I arrived, Lily, the nurse I usually work with, said, "I REALLY need you tonight."

It's nice to feel like what you're doing really helps someone - both the nurses and the patients. Sometimes the nurses feel bad asking me to retrieve blankets or other supplies for them, but I really don't mind. It allows them to focus on their patients. Of course, my favorite thing to do is hold the babies.

I fed four babies this week and also got to help with a couple others. I talk to each of them and encourage them to eat and burp. I also got to speak a little Spanish to two new dads. My time there just flies by. I guess that's what happens when you're doing what you love.

In all my Mondays at Parkland, I've only witnessed one death. It was a new patient that had just been admitted into the unit. I was feeding another one in the same room. There were several nurses around this little boy, and a couple doctors were walking in and out. One of the doctors was watching the monitors and first noticed the breathing changing slightly. The baby was born at 27 weeks, very young when a normal term pregnancy is 40 weeks. Lungs are one of the last organs to develop, and most premies have some difficulty with their respiration. The doctor alerted the nurses who immediately started supplementing the child's breathing with a CPR bag, but unfortunately he kept crashing. They called a code blue and several more staff members rushed into the room, although the space around his little bed was already full. They brought the father in, along with a translator and a minister. The minister gave last rites as the translator repeated the words in Spanish. I felt for the father. His face was in total shock. They escorted him out and then stopped the CPR. One of the nurses was crying, and the charge nurse reassured her that she and everyone else on the team had done everything possible.

It was very surreal. I wasn't sad for the baby, because I believe he went to a better place, a peaceful, loving, painless place. But my heart hurt for the parents, who had been awaiting the birth of their child and now had to bury him.

I admire the nurses and doctors who do this miniature work so much. But wow, the responsibility. If I mess up at work, or if the project just doesn't work out because of unavoidable factors, I feel badly, but it's not like life and death. It would be hard to let go and not question every action you took.