In the last six days, I’ve worked almost 50 hours at the hospital, so the current version of me is a little on the tired side. I am very happy to have some days off now!
I was planning to do another edition of our Tightwad Gazette book tour, but that can wait until next Wednesday. 🙂
For now, a few miscellaneous things to tide you over for today.
A poem for me
In a recent issue of James Clear’s newsletter, he shared this Emily Dickinson poem:
“If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.”
And I immediately thought of how this applies to nursing. I’ve written before about how sometimes the problems of the world feel overwhelming because I cannot possibly help to fix even a tiny fraction of them.
But what helps is remembering that I cannot change the world, but I can change the world of the person in front of me.
I am such a tiny cog even in the machine of my hospital, but for the 6-7 people assigned to me each day, I am a main character. I can ease the aching for those people, that day, and that is enough. 🙂
Patients vs. Clients
In my nursing school curriculum, efforts are being made to phase out the word “patient” in favor of the word “client”.
Me as a postpartum client with baby Sonia (also a client. Ha.)
This strikes me as weird when we are talking about something like a person getting cancer treatment. “Oncology client” feels almost disrespectful because “client” to me has connotations of choice, like when you have an elective nose job.
Cancer treatment is quite a different animal.
Anyway, in my real-world hospital experience so far, I have noticed that exactly zero of my co-workers have referred to people as clients. Everyone still calls them patients and they just laugh when I tell them my textbooks seriously do say “client”. Ha.
I dunno. Maybe down the road “client” will happen, but right now, it seems to be a thing limited to textbooks and classrooms.
(I sort of want to quote Mean Girls and say, “Stop trying to make client happen. It’s not gonna happen!”)
Deep, but short
I have been thinking about how interesting hospital health care is because it is both deep and time-limited.
A perfect stranger gets wheeled up to my floor, and in a matter of hours, I’m getting very up close and personal with my patient. There’s the physical part of really getting up in someone’s business, but it usually doesn’t take too long until the patient gives me a peek into the rest of their world too.
We spend a couple of days together, I cheer them on, empathize with them, feed them, ambulate them, and take a bazillion vital signs, among other things.
Then we say goodbye, and off they go to live a life that probably will never cross paths with mine again.
It’s sort of a unique experience, for a relationship to be so deep and also so short. But even though it’s brief, it feels rewarding to me to be able to make a little difference in people’s time on our floor.
A plot trope that gives me anxiety
Sometimes when I am in patient (err, client?) rooms, I catch snippets of the TV shows that they are watching. Last week, one of them was an episode where a character was expecting a huge windfall of money, so he was spending money lavishly in anticipation of the payday.
the only TV picture I seem to have in my files! Courtesy of Sonia’s knitting skills.
I didn’t see the whole episode, but I am absolutely sure that it ended with him not receiving the expected money.
And oof, that common storyline makes me feel so nervous when I watch it. I see the writing on the wall and I want to scream, “NO NO NO DON’T DO THIS!!”
My risk tolerance when it comes to money is very low, so if I was expecting a windfall, I would never, never, never spend a penny of it until the money had hit my account and the hold had been released.
My reaction made me wonder if other fellow frugal people have the same sort of discomfort as they watch characaters count their chickens before they’re hatched!
K
Sunday 11th of August 2024
Ah yes, the joys of nursing! We submerse ourselves in our "clients" lives for 12 hours, then walk away at the end of the day to our own lives. It is a strange life we choose. I have no doubt your are fabulous at your job, and your "clients" love you for it!
StephanieLD
Friday 9th of August 2024
Late checking in here, because life has been chaotic the last 3 weeks.
I was a bedside nurse for 42 of my 45 years in nursing, and, because of my husband's extensive medical history, have experienced bias a LOT from other healthcare providers. I am also obese, and there is a huge bias against obese caretaker wives of patients. Some examples:
My husband's doctor pooh-poohed me when hubby gained 43 lbs one summer, with his torso and legs being very swollen, and I mentioned the last time I saw that much fluid on him was when he'd had liver and kidney failure and a clot in his leg. He said, well, this wasn't the case this time, but he ordered a CT scan for my husband, and before we got home from having it done, his staff was calling us to come to the office right away. Jack was admitted to the hospital ASAP with a clot blocking his liver. Dr. H had the grace to treat me with a little more respect after that (for a while at least), even though he didn't apologize.
During that hospital stay, one of the gastric specialists told me he had seen my husband's xrays and saw no edema (swelling) in his torso. Excuse me?? I have to assist my husband with showering and dressing and have lived with this man over 50 years and you have the nerve to tell me I don't know what I'm talking about?? I told the hospitalist I didn't want that specialist to darken our doorway again. They got another specialist in the practice to take over. Oh, and they pulled 30 lbs of fluid off him in 5 days. His shirts fit him again.
When hubby was in to see Dr. H in January, I mentioned that he seemed a little more confused lately. Doc asked Jack a few benign questions, and told me, without looking at me, that he didn't see any confusion. I was livid. He bases that on seeing my husband 10 minutes every 6 months? He should see the testing the speech therapist put my husband through during this rehab stay: critical thinking skills, memory, math skills, etc. Hubby failed miserably.
When it came time to transfer him from the hospital to the rehab nursing home (that was on the bottom of my list due to prior experiences, the nurse who came in tried to minimize my concerns with discharge orders, and medications he usually takes at home being reordered. She said, "Oh, we have them written down and the doctor will see them, and the pharmacist will fill them." I said, "Oh, is the doctor usually there at 6:30 on a Saturday night? And does this facility have an on-site pharmacy that will be able to provide the medications tonight? Doesn't the facility have to wait until Monday when the pharmacy opens to get his medications? One of his meds is a very expensive hormone suppressant that is provided to us by the manufacturer's pharmacy. I have it here and we will need an order for them to be able to administer his home medications." Her jaw dropped and she stammered that she would check on that. I didn't appreciate that she was trying to blow me off and that a less knowledgeable family member would have believed they would be seeing a doctor that night and that the patient would be receiving all their usual meds.
Current rehab facility/nursing home physician plants both feet apart, hands on hips, and tells me "THIS is what 50% weight bearing is!" when I questioned how they were going to start him on 50 % weight bearing when he is totally paralyzed on the left side, unable to use crutches or a walker, and now has a fractured leg to boot. Dude, this man is NEVER at 50% weight bearing when his leg ISN'T fractured!
Nurse brought my husband his pain meds, but had a couple more in the cup at a time of the day when he doesn't usually get medication. When hubby asked what the meds were, the nurse kind of brushed it off, saying, "well, it's your pain meds and heart pill and...". I asked what heart med. She mumbled something that ended with "olol", which usually is generic for beta blockers. I said he didn't take that. She kind of sighed and went to check the med record, and in the meantime, hubby downed the meds before I could stop him or look at them myself. She came back, and said, "Oh, that was his potassium." Now, he does take potassium, but it's scheduled for 9 am and this was almost 5 pm. He also got very sleepy later, almost too sleepy to eat supper, so I think she gave him someone else's meds, but I can't prove it.
Because he has cognitive issues from the stroke (which was 45 years ago, so we have lived with this a long time), he either cannot accurately answer some questions, or he doesn't understand the question and says what he thinks they want to hear. He is also very good at masking this condition, and can laugh and joke with people, so I get that look when I have to answer questions for him. I explain his deficits and tell them I am pretty much his walking memory bank, and always provide a copy of his current and past medical conditions, surgical history, medications, allergies, and vaccinations. I keep this on the computer, with several printed copies in a folder that I grab when he goes to the ER.
These days I have no qualms about playing the nurse card. In the past, I wouldn't mention it, because I didn't want to make his caregivers nervous, thinking I'm going to watch them like a hawk, or throw my weight around (pun intended), but I no longer care. I am not going to be dismissed as the fat, pushy, elderly wife of a nice old man. Or, in the words of Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction": " I am not going to be ignored, Dan!"
Mary
Thursday 8th of August 2024
I work in global health in the HIV sector, and we are also shifting to client from patient. For us, the shift is driven by the fact that people living with HIV are living normal lives, and we are fighting the stigma that someone living with HIV is perceived as sick or dying. It's a chronic illness now just like managing high blood pressure, etc. Also, we are working on packages of care for our HIV clients, and the idea is that they have choices in their care, hence clients. I never thought about how it may have commercial or monetary connotations.
elin pittman
Thursday 8th of August 2024
That poem! I had it up on my bedroom wall when I was a kid and I have always loved it. No matter where you are in life it fits. Keep easing those who ache! I love reading your blog. Thank you!
Tammy
Thursday 8th of August 2024
I haven't had many hospital experiences (thankfully), but I do still think about the nurses who have touched my life. The nurse who stayed after her shift was ended, to make sure I was ok (emotionally) after my emergency C-section (15 1/2 years ago); the CNA who brought my daughter back after her hearing test to tell me she'd passed her hearing test just fine but the selective hearing would start around 2 years old (LOL); the call nurse at my doctor's office who tracked me down at the office and enveloped me in a hug when my miscarriage was confirmed (13 1/2 years ago) .
I would assume that none of those nurses would even remember me, but I do remember them. I was a very very small part of their day when cared for.