Mark Stoller and his wife, Andra, moved to Falcon with their family in 2007. Both are U.S. Air Force veterans and enjoy life with their daughters, extended family and adopted rescue dogs in Latigo. Mark is fortunate to have his wife and daughters as his muse for topics, people to meet and places to investigate.
The New Chapter
By Mark Stoller
A huge “Thank you!” to Ava for writing her Ava’s (A)musings column in my absence.
During my time away, I was able to study for and pass my two national exams to become a licensed respiratory therapist.
In July, I was fortunate to be hired at Penrose Main hospital. You can find me on any of the floors, cardiac unit, intensive care unit and/or the emergency department.
I work the night shift from 6:30 p.m. until 7 a.m. the next morning. I assess patients, provide breathing treatments across multiple floors/units, and settle people into their nighttime routines with CPAP, BiPAP or other breathing equipment.
From 2 a.m. to 4 a.m. is truly the dead of night. Very little happens with the patients, and it is also the hardest time to stay awake and engaged. Penrose has a fantastic fitness center in the basement for employees to use. I’ve been able to work out each shift to stay healthy and strengthen myself.
And 4 a.m. to 6 a.m. seems to be the bewitching hours — anything that could conceivably go sideways with someone’s breathing starts to happen about then and continues through the end of the shift. It’s a fantastic test of my critical thinking skills and always an opportunity to learn.
It only took me 53 years to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. I absolutely enjoyed my time as an intelligence officer in the Air Force and absolutely hated the 12 years as an information technology project manager. Now, at the end of every respiratory therapy shift, I have a renewed sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that I have helped or made a difference in somebody’s life.
What I enjoy most about my work is the connection with the patients. There have been times where I work the same unit for consecutive shifts and I can see whether people get better or deteriorate.
I had established a good relationship with one of my patients in the cardiac unit over the course of six shifts. The unfortunate reality of their illness was the effects of long COVID on their lungs. The effects of the virus had turned their lungs fibrotic — instead of stretchy to expand and contract, the tissue became more like duct tape. We worked hard to get their oxygen level up to 92%, but sitting up in bed, standing, taking two steps to the chair, turning and sitting would drop oxygen levels into the 60% region.
After a long fight, they accepted their fate that time on Earth was drawing to a close. After being placed on comfort care, they passed away two days later while I was off shift. I was pleased to have had kind words and prayed together during my last shift in the unit. I have also experienced death in the emergency department. We had a patient come in, was talking to us one minute, and then just went limp the next. We worked for over an hour utilizing the advanced cardiac life-saving (ACLS) protocols.
Death has a specific aroma/odor to it. I recognize it from my days in Iraq; and, while working on that patient, the familiar smell returned. Before we went into our last series of ACLS protocol actions to revive them — I knew they were gone.
Thankfully, these are just a few experiences that affect me negatively compared to the many great interactions and outcomes with the majority of my patients.
Obviously, I hope to never cross paths with you at the hospital. That said, you can guarantee that you are going to receive the absolute best care.
