The "Hard" Parts of Nursing

Background

There are a lot of hard things about being a nurse. For instance, it is not uncommon to get pee or poo on your shoes. You have to find a compassionate way to calm down a confused patient who is swearing and telling you how awful you are (or one who isn't confused). You have to be good at the math you do. A simple calculation gone wrong can in some cases cost a life. It is a constantly changing environment where you have to adapt to everything from where the syringes are stored to minute vital sign trends to administrative rules.

But the thing that I find most people asking about is how I emotionally handle death and illness all the time. It has been about a year now since I worked in the hospital, but it was a common question. Or sometimes people would not ask me how I do it, instead just stating that they couldn't handle that stress and emotion.

Well, it can be a very hard thing. I came across this article a few months ago and enjoyed it. An honest perspective on dealing with death, specifically. This nurse works in an Emergency Department, so sees death more often than I did on my unit. But I can still relate to some of her feelings. The article can be found here.

Summary

The author starts by saying how awful it is to see death in her workplace so often, and that most of the time these are people who did not expect death to come to them so soon.

She has a picture of an ER trauma room at the top, and talks about how it looks so shiny and fancy and makes you think that you would want to be there if anything happened to you. But when she looks at it, she sees the blood, sweat and tears that have gone into working on so many individuals, sometimes unsuccessfully.

She then acknowledges that working around so much death would seem to provide no peace to those who endure it on a regular basis. And although as a nurse it can sometimes be hard to move past the heartbreak of it all, there are good moments too. When a life is saved, there is a victory. When a life is saved against incredible odds, there is a huge triumph. She says "nothing can compare to saving a life."

She mentions that in the moment you have to focus on the task at hand, doing this and that. Then, later you can look back and evaluate the situation. Remember that your patient was a person. She says "For me, it’s in that very moment I find strength and peace in what we do. There is always something beautiful, even in the worst of situations."

Lastly, she notes that while it can be hard to keep going, knowing that there is a chance for each patient to fight and win makes it all worth it. Even with the ups and downs and hard moments, it is still possible to find peace.

My Two Cents

I loved this article, thought it was very well written, and recommend you read the actual thing instead of my summary if you can. It isn't too long, and the language is so much more poetic in the real thing than in my summary.

I am happy that this wonderful nurse has found peace in the chaos, but must admit I feel slightly different about the situation. In fact, I like this topic because it has grown into something more important for me in my career. Let me try to explain without being too long-winded.

When I first decided to be a nurse, I couldn't even tell you what nurses did. I despised hospitals and would get queasy if someone said the word "blood." Not at the sight of blood, mind you, but the simple expression of the word. I never imagined I would want to do anything in the medical field, so I never bothered to learn about it. I would say I didn't really understand what a nurse does until my preceptorship at the end of nursing school. I suppose that is a bit pathetic.

So then, after the fact I had to find my reason for being a nurse. What was it that would keep me in this profession? What could I find that would sustain me? Yes, I had done the work and the school and the testing to become a nurse, but why would I continue on this path?

It didn't take me too long to figure it out. For me it wasn't the schedule or the high-tech instruments or the excitement. It wasn't the many kinds of nursing jobs or flexibility in hours or locations to work. It wasn't any of the other top reasons that most nurses like nursing.

For me it was because of the suffering. Not because I like suffering. But because I could do something about it. For me, that is empowerment. That is meaningful. That is what people talk about when they say you are a great nurse. It means that they were scared, but you helped them feel at ease. It means that in spite of losing their loved one, they knew they were in good hands. It means that when they find out they are going to die, you help them navigate through the emotions. It doesn't mean that you heal everyone and save every life. It simply means you ease a difficult situation for someone else.

I like to focus on what I can do to make their bad situation a little less bad. I can do that by providing excellent medical care, by explaining something better, by walking to the cafeteria to get the flavor of yogurt they want. Whether I'm there or not, this person is having a bad experience. Why shouldn't I focus on the ways I can make it a little better for them?

Don't get me wrong, of course it is amazing when we save a life. But I don't view the deaths as the hard things to get past and the resuscitations as the reason to keep coming back. I just want to make sure each experience, no matter how it turns out, is not as bad as it could have been for those involved.

Ask me why I am a nurse. Go ahead. The answer is that I get the chance to help people when they are experiencing their most vulnerable, scary, difficult moments. And while I can't fix everything about their situation, I can make them and/or their loved ones feel a little more empowered, a little more brave, and make things a bit easier for them. Regardless of the outcome, if I can succeed in those things, then I can find peace in any situation.