A Short StoryThe call light at the far end of the dimly lit hallway lights up for the third time. “I’m in pain!” Mrs. Kane screams out. Tara takes a deep breath. If only Mrs. Kane knew that it took all of the staff on the unit to lift Mr. Elliot back into his bed after he pulled a Hoodini with his restraints, climbed over the side rails, landed on the floor-fracturing his hip. Tara unlocks the med cart and pours two pain pills into a paper for Mrs. Kane. From the corner of her eye she notices the glow of the sun creeping above the hill outside the window. “Does anybody care that I’m in pain?” Mrs. Kane shouts, louder this time. Tara locks the med drawer as she reminds herself that her shift is nearly over, then she heads down the hall to finally relieve Mrs. Kane of her pain. Halfway down the hall, the trickling sound of water stops her. Her head turns slowly from side to side, attempting to zero in on the source of the unwelcome sound. She leans closer towards the door of room 417. Ugg, someone must have left the sink on, she thinks as she enters the room. A pair of eyeballs, open so wide that they might fall out, stops her in her tracks. She looks up from the gaunt man, with thinning black hair, clinging to his side rails, at the ceiling. Blood erupting from his femoral vein like a geyser bounces off the ceiling creating a red rainstorm. Tara stuffs the pain med in the pocket of her scrubs, grabs a towel and lunges to the man’s side. With both hands she smothers the artery and screams for help. “Am I going to die?” the man asks, his voice trembling. “Not if I can help it,” she responds firmly and stares him down. Within minutes the two are in the center of a swarm of medical staff that are shouting instructions and simultaneously working their magic as they whisk the man to the O.R. Tara leaves her shift and heads home not knowing if the man, who wasn’t even her assigned patient, lives or dies. She’s also pretty sure Mrs. Kane will file a complaint against her since it took so long to get to her. She enters her front door and finds her husband and son eating cereal together. “Have a good night?” her husband asks. Tara looks at her son, smiles, “ I made it through.” She runs her fingers through her son’s sandy blond hair in an attempt to disguise the bedhead effect. “We’ve got to go, buddy,” her husband cheers when he sees the time. They gather their bags for work and school, give her a quick kiss and a hug around the waist, then fly out the front door. Tara knows what she needs is sleep. She has seven hours between now and when her son’s school bus drops him off. Then homework, soccer practice, ship up dinner and back to the hospital for another twelve-hour shift. Her mind and body play tug-a-war; sleep, no keep moving! She paces the kitchen, washes the cereal bowls and hand dries them slowly. She takes the damp dishcloth and wipes down the counter top. Along the way a box of donuts, already missing two, catches her attention. The voice inside her says, have a couple of eggs and toast. The devil on her shoulder disagrees, no, the donuts will taste so much better. She breaks off a piece, slips it into her mouth and feels the hardened, sweet, sugary glaze melt on her tongue. Before she knows it, she’s eaten half the box, downs a glass of milk, and feels the sugar coma begin to take over. She makes it to the couch, kicks off her shoes, snuggles into the fleece throw blanket and lets go. -------- Cautiously, Tara scans the patient list, looking for the man’s name. Much to her surprise, and relief, it is there, right next to room 417. Her chest inflates with pride. She walks to the man’s room, peaks in the doorway to find him talking with a woman and two teenage girls. Collectively, they turn and look at her when she knocks on the door. “There she is, the man announces. “My angel!” The woman rushes around the bed, grips Tara in a bear hug as she cries, “You’re an angel, an angel! You saved my husband.” Tara pats her on the back, and then gently encourages her to release her grasp. “Thank you, but I can assure you, I’m no angel. I learned a long time ago that if I take credit for saving your husband, then I will have to take the blame for the patients who don’t make it. I’m thrilled that he is okay.” What are your perceptions of nurses? If you are a nurse, what are some of your beliefs about your role as a nurse? When you have a stressful day, what do you do to calm down? Order a pizza, crack open a beer, or do you opt for a walk in the park, go for a swim or a yoga class? We all live with stress around us, how we deal with it can significantly affect our health. We'll continue to look at this topic in future blogs. Feel free to sign up if you like or post any comments below. #Nursing #Nurses #Healthcare #SafeStaffing #SelfCare
3 Comments
I have felt the warmth of the sun on my face today. The simple pleasure of toes in the mud. Kids free to wander and conversations among friends. Breathing fresh air that smells of forest and munching fresh strawberries and blueberries. ~ I feel alive. Skin warm and tingling from the sun, freshly cleaned from the mud. White cotton pajamas against my browned skin. I feel calm and focused. Ready to take on life. What was drained from me working all weekend is restored by the earth. ~ I am rejuvenated by dandelions and mud. Ice cold water from the hose. The giggle and shouts of children and hot coffee on the deck with friends. I feel ready to give again, in touch with the earth. Guest: Jenn is a messy mom and ordinary nurse living a beautiful life. She writes to remember and to reimagine the story. She writes about motherhood and nursing and all the thing that make her cry at Cry and Nurse On When she's not chasing her three kids, watching Netflix with her husband, or working in the NICU, she is a voracious reader, always looking to understand the world better through people's stories. Preferably with a latte in hand. Oftentimes when someone learns what sort of nursing I practice, they immediately respond as if they are in some state of grief. They instantly regret asking, followed by that face... and I am immersed in their sympathy. They grimace at the thought of being surrounded by death, bearing witness to those repeatedly battling with the dreaded “C” word…
The famous question I could really do without hearing again is… How do you do it? I could give a cliché answer and have been known to do such when in a time crunch, or as deterrence from conversation. But let’s be real, shall we? What I witness daily could be the basis for every tragedy or romance novel ever written. I get a free pass into some fantastic love stories, lifelong marriages, and passionate recollections as I explore the memoirs of those with chronologically and/or experientially old souls. On the flip side, the tragedies could put nightmares to shame. The gift of intuition sometimes leaves me in a state of exhaustion. Getting to closely know people during those rough times and investigating every detail of their case and persona, attempting to make things at least tolerable for them, can be daunting. My energy is pulled from me every hour as I walk those concrete floors, enclosed in those cold, concrete walls without a view. It sounds like torture, but I love every second of it, especially when I collaborate with some of the best health care professionals in the country and find answers, resulting in relief, smiles and laughter. Add in the high expectations of visiting, regulatory agencies, who don’t provide direct patient care themselves and don’t seem to understand why we need water near our workstation… It’s no surprise why we are drained and dehydrated at the end of our workweek. So… what was the question again? Oh yeah… How do I do it? The answer is simple, yet pursuance of such can seem complex. I strive for balance. In order to balance death and loss, we need to experience life, nurture and love it, appreciate it, grow it, create it, restore it, and surround ourselves with it... Life takes on so many beautiful forms; we just need to figure out which appeals to us the most. Nature is comprised of some stunning elements: fire, water, air, and the earth itself. Although it is rewarding, I’m not going to advise that you go plant a tree, because everyone isn’t a gardener. In a world where I feel I am constantly losing battles, and people… I have found it can be rejuvenating to: *Restore and appreciate an old piece of wood furniture *Enjoy the warmth and comfort of a fire pit *Go outside and just breathe…slowly. *Play in the dirt *Watch and listen to the rain…dance in it if I so choose. There are so many sources out there to restore our own energy. Finding what helps us maintain balance may be one or a combination of things. Remember to indulge because we deserve it. To find balance, cultivate the core of what makes us human. We are, after all, derived from nature and destined to return one day… Sara E. Smith, BSN, RN, OCN is a guest blogger for the thenaturenurse.com. She has practiced nursing for roughly ten years on an inpatient adult hematology oncology unit, and has recently begun instructing peers on the subject of psychosocial distress management of oncology patients. She welcomes comments, feedback, and questions from readers. #wellness #healing #nature #health #outdoors #nursing |
Ready to sleep better, feel lighter, and feel more joy?
Download my latest ebook now: Archives
May 2024
Categories
All
Follow me:
|
© COPYRIGHT 2015-2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
|