It was coming. Change of shift. I had spent a long day performing patient care, and had recently transferred a patient from my SICU bed to a MedSurg room. Housekeeping had cleaned the room, I had just caught up on my charting, and was honestly relieved to see the clock reading it was almost time to go home. I know my aching calves were ecstatic.
As any nurse reading this can guess, this is the moment the phone rang. Yep. I was getting a transfer from the floor.
It didn’t sound good either. This fella was sick. Acute, unexpected blood loss, and lots of it. He was unstable, and definitely a candidate for ICU care.
As I heard the report my heart sank, but I quickly jumped into action gathering up supplies in anticipation of his arrival.
I was surprised when the oncoming nurse arrived, and the patient still had not. Interventions being performed in his immediate stabilization kept him off my unit long enough for my shift to end. And as I grabbed my bag to head out the door my mind was still on that impending transfer.
I found my thoughts returning to him as my head hit the pillow later that night. I felt pretty certain that if he made it through the night he would become my patient come morning. My last thoughts as I drifted off to sleep were heartfelt prayers lifted up on his behalf. Help him get better Lord.
That’s the thing you see. I don’t like sick people, and I can’t stand an unstable situation. Perhaps not all nurses feel like me, but I think most will agree that if given the choice they would prefer their patient not to be circling the drain of impending doom.
And even though sick people are my bread and butter, or perhaps there’s nothing more exhilarating than bringing a patient back from the brink of death, if given the choice I’d rather just sit down with one and let them tell me about the “good ole days.” I want them to be stable enough to tell me all about it.
This doesn’t mean I can’t do it. I’ve honestly discovered through my years in the profession that critical care is where I thrive. It’s my forte, and I love the pace. My brains works best when challenged with critical thinking, and my joy comes with performing advanced skills. But deep down do I really like it?
I like my patients, but I enjoy them even more when they’re well. My true joy comes when the previously unresponsive lady can give me a hard time about when her lunch is coming.
I love making them better, but when it comes right down to it I can’t stand them being sick.
And while I will fight tooth and nail to make them better, the sad reality is that sometimes I can’t. Sometimes it’s just not in my hands.
Without fail while I am in the midst of a rapidly declining situation I feel like I am not enough. I don’t feel as if I react quick enough, or do the absolute best for my patient. Maybe I do, but I certainly don’t feel that way after it’s all said and done.
And even when the patient ends up pulling through I almost want to cry. Tears for one part joy that we made it to the other side, and the other half grief over the nurse I wish I could be. I just never hit the mark in my mind’s eye.
Even the most seasoned, hardcore critical care nurse can only handle so much stress and intensity before they feel as if they will implode, and then only the soothing sound of a patient’s laughter can suffice to settle the soul.
Although shift change is a pretty good thing too.
Despite my affection for actually making really sick people better nothing beats the feeling of knowing they are well. Although that’s usually when it’s time for me to say goodbye, and start all over again.
And so it was with my critical bleeder. I arrived ready to take on the challenge of a very sick man, but when I arrived he was well. Not completely, but much better.
I was confronted with normal vital signs, stable labs, and the profuse bleeding had lessened to a trickle. I couldn’t have been happier.
As I later pushed him down the hall in a wheelchair to transfer out of the unit I told him, “you should be happy. You’re too well to stay here with me.”
With a happy heart I bid him ado, and called for housekeeping to clean the room. I knew there was really no telling what/who would take his place.
I knew they’d be sick, whoever they were, and while I couldn’t stand that thought I held onto the hope that they would get well too.
Rhonda says
The ICU nurses in our unit are awesome. Yall are the absolute best!! If I ever land in one of those beds on the weekend you better fight to care for me lol…thanks for realizing the scared look on my face today as I too my blood pressure and coming and doing it manually for me. You have no idea what that meant to me as you smiled.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much!! We appreciate you!
Marla Clark says
I’m 82 and read all your posts, Brie. I had 3 major surgeries plus many short term hospital stays for tests this past year, and it’s been interesting to read your thoughts from the nurse viewpoint. I hope I was a good patient.. sometimes I really was too sick to care. Thank you for your compassion and caring to patients who really would rather be anywhere but vulnerable to the medical staff who entered the room. You’re appreciated so much !
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so very much for commenting. You are appreciated. I am quite certain you were a fabulous patient, even when you were too sick to care. We understand that. God bless you.
Dianna Ellis says
Great post ! As a nurse for the past 35 years, 22 of which I worked in Newborn Intensive Care, I understand and completely agree with what you wrote.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you!