I have the privilege of being a critical care nurse, but I’m a little different from some of my intensive care cohorts. For example, I don’t necessary get a thrill from the adrenaline rush of a medical crisis. I mean, no one likes disorganized chaos, but many of the fabulous nurses I’ve worked with in my career get a kick out of emergency medicine. They love getting a big ole mess, and then fixing it right up. And I’ll admit I love the fixing part as much as the next guy, but when the feces hits the fan I’m typically less than thrilled.
I like order. I like knowing what’s going to happen, and I enjoy being able to anticipate my next move to reach a satisfiable resolution for the problem at hand. An ordered environment is a rare one in critical care, yet for some reason I’ve stuck around. Perhaps there’s a part of me that does love the excitement of Murphy’s Law played out at the bedside, and this woman knows deep down that if it can happen it will. Maybe it’s this knowledge that most likely a smiling patient can crash hard in a moment’s notice, and in that realization I’m always ready, but I somehow think there’s more to it. I think there’s more than the hard-earned experience in the setting that keeps me there. And without this one thing I think I would have surrendered long ago and taken a less stressful position elsewhere.
Many times when I stand in the hot shower spray before work I feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. I enjoy my job, I do, but there’s always that nagging concern of just what might be awaiting me when I arrive. There’s always the element of unknown, and the very real worry of if I will handle it in the best way possible. Whatever the crisis may be.
The truth is that no matter how amazing of a nurse you may be there will always come a situation in your career that is more than you can handle. No matter how brilliant, skillful, and calm you are the fact is that you are human. You only have two hands, and you are limited by the constraints of space and time. What I mean is that you can only think, and then react and move so fast. Any nurse will tell you that when stuff goes down it happens with a quickness. You’ll never be fast enough, smart enough, or skilled enough to do everything right, to anticipate every negative occurrence, or prevent every descent into a worsening situation.
In fact, there’s so much that can go wrong, and such a small allowable area for error that it’s a wonder anyone does this job. And in reality the only saving grace is the very real truth that you do not have to face these situations alone. If it were not for the rescue crew of my capable team I could not continue my fight at the critical care bedside.
I don’t know if I’m getting old and that makes the thrill less excitable, and instead more stressful, or if it’s just the years of the reality of how quickly things can go south. Regardless I don’t like that element of unknown. I don’t desire to have the sickest patients on the unit. I’m never eager for the arrival of a hot mess from the ER. I love critical care, but critical patients make me feel uneasy. I sometimes wonder if I’m crazy for hanging around, but then I can’t imagine being anywhere else. But I do know one thing for certain. I could never continue in the field of critical care if I had to do it all by myself. I would belly flop in defeat.
Thankfully the reality is that I am not alone. When I finally hop out of the shower in the mornings it’s the fact of the crew that is headed there too that adds a pep to my step. It’s the smiling, laughing faces of my dependable team that puts my heart and mind at ease for the unknown emergencies that will accompany my day. I could not do what I do without them, and for their presence I am grateful beyond what words can say.
No nurse can ever go at it alone, and thankfully they don’t have to. Every nurse is only as good as his/her team, and the outcome of any bad situation is usually determined by the cohesion of said team. A solid, fluid team can make miracles happen. It can also make a bad day turn good. Plus it helps make going to work a ton easier when you know folks have your back. No one can bear the weight of life and death alone.
So to all of my fabulous teammates out there, past and present, I say thank you. Sincerely. I could not do this crazy, chaotic career without you. I may not say it enough, but you are the backbone of the profession. You embody as a team what every nurse absolutely needs to survive this wild field we have chosen. You are the reason the profession of nursing continues. When the going gets tough so do you, and I can’t imagine a shift without you by my side.
See you soon.
Kathy Nolan says
You said it all perfect. I stand in the hot shower and say a prayer each morning to help me make good decisions to keep my patients safe
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thanks Kathy. Glad it’s not just me.