“Can you get an IV up on 5 East?” my charge nurse asked me.“I can try,” I replied. I am not the world’s best IV nurse by any stretch of the imagination. I used to be really good at nasogastric tubes, but I can’t even claim that anymore.
Anyway I went upstairs, asked which room they needed an IV in; I went in to find a little old lady with tiny little limbs and the crookedest veins. I’ve seen whitewater rapids that have less twists and turns than this ladies veins.
Oh, and we have new IV catheters now. All the nurses hate them. We pull them out by accident constantly. Anyway, I managed to get blood flashback, but the IV catheter would not thread. So I pushed and couldn’t get it without blowing the vein. So I pulled the needle out. The cath was in place in the vein, but it was still hanging halfway out. I couldn’t leave it like that.
So I start flushing. Flush & thread. Flush & thread. Oh, so delicately. Until I had that IV in. Truth. I told the 5 East nurses that I got it on my first attempt.
Feel free to write a fictional prequel or sequel to this story. This is actual truth, but I was limited to 1024 characters to write it so I could pass as part of a work of fiction.