I don’t know if it’s a nurse thing, if it’s a human thing, or if maybe it’s just a me thing, but saying “I’m sorry” is not always the easiest thing to do. Often times if I do realize I’ve made a mistake there’s this part of me that offers suggestions to myself as to why or how I could have been wrong.
When I catch myself thinking bad thoughts about someone in my personal life, for example, the little devil on my left shoulder might infer, “It’s ok. Remember when she embarrassed you on a Tuesday evening twelve years ago?” Sigh.
There’s something about me that doesn’t want to be wrong. I want to be justified. Even when I fail I would rather think of an excuse of why I fell short rather than own up to a mistake. Not always, thank God, but often enough that I’ve had to take notice. Am I the only one?
I find I’m working on this more and more as I go through life and work on making me a better version of myself. Where do I see this as most difficult? At work I think.
Nursing is my forte, and I worked very hard to get to where I am. While I don’t expect a red carpet and confetti from the sky, I do desire respect. I guess I feel like I have earned at least that much.
Where this can be a problem is when someone questions my care of a patient. Whether a patient or a family member, when they call into question a decision I have made in my experience for the well-being of those under my charge, my knee-jerk reaction is to become offended. I want to bristle up like a cocky rooster, strut around the room, and cluck out why I am incredibly brilliant and they are just dead wrong! Without saying that of course.
This is hard to admit, but I’m wrong, and I say I’m wrong.
At one point I was caring for a patient who was very sick. It’s the nature of critical care of course, but this patient was one even I considered to have a poor overall, long-term prognosis. When a patient presents in that condition taking care of them is challenging. Pain control specifically can be a challenge when faced with such a patient.
My patient’s family was at bedside on the particular day in question. I had medicated the patient for pain with strong, narcotic pain medication, and she was finally resting comfortably, or as comfortably as a person can be with a tube down their throat and multiple fractures. She was sleeping soundly anyway, and I went with that. Then visiting time began.
The patient would grimace slightly in her sleep, and the daughter would wake her suddenly to ask, “are you hurting?!”
The daughter asked me why I couldn’t medicate her for pain, and immediately my feathers wanted to ruffle. I began to explain about things like the desire to wean from the ventilator and a narcotic’s reaction to spontaneous respiration, the lack of a blood pressure sustainable to life, as hers was incredibly low already despite the support of medications to keep it elevated for sufficient circulation, and how pain meds would only drop it further. I talked pros and cons as I saw them.
I stood there and defended myself for being unable to completely take her mother’s pain away, and about the time I realized my tone I noticed her wide eyes.
“I didn’t know that.” She said quietly. And at that moment I felt two feet tall.
I’m not sure why my “stern nurse who always knows best” is the last part of the ugly me that I need to be rid of, but she is. And I’m sorry.
I feel the need to climb down from my professional tree of knowledge and admit a few things. For one, I realize I’m not always right. I desire to be, but I’m not arrogant enough to think I am. Even though I may not always act like it, I’m open to your suggestions. No one knows you or your family better than you do. I sometimes forget that, and I’m sorry.
I also have a tendency to take my knowledge and comfortable feelings in the face of trauma for granted. I forget that you don’t know the medical specifics like I do. You may find the alarms much more frightening than they are to me. You may not know that morphine can kill you when too much is given, or that pain is subjective and treating it can be a tricky balance when maintaining life. I’m sorry if I treat you like you should know these things. That’s wrong.
When I saw the face of my patient’s daughter chastised I felt immediate remorse, and rather than trying to justify my actions I apologized. While what I said was true, it didn’t deserve the approach I used. I covered her with an embrace and offered a heartfelt apology. She didn’t know. And sometimes I forget that.
While I’m proud of the knowledge and expertise I carry in my field, I never want to be uncaring or appear as if I’m on a self-appointed pedestal where I can do no wrong or never be out of the know.
It’s not always easy to admit where you fall short or to apologize, but today I do. If I’ve ever treated you less than myself then I have to say it. This nurse humbles herself and says, “I’m sorry.” I will do better for you in the future.
*For those reading who might not know me personally, I believe I am a good nurse. I honestly do. In this post I chose to highlight the worst in myself as I feel like when we can admit our failures openly we are truly ready and willing to change for the best. So please no negative comments. I’m just not up for it this week.
Sherry Evans says
This is what makes you a wonderful nurse !!! Your ability to know when you need to apologize. As nurses we are human not perfect. This day in time we are stretched and pulled in many directions like never before ( for me since 1982) . Our patients are sicker, families more needy because they see it all. We have no quite down time to recoup and prepare for questions the same ones we were asked yesterday! I truly am like you I feel for my patient and their family. If I were in their shoes and I have been, I would be asking questions. The difference is we know how stretched that nurse is and overwhelmed with a lot of task not enough time, no help, no breaks on a lot of days! The times have changed and so has the role and sometimes the respect the nurse gets is absent in a lot of cases! All we can do is continue to be the very best possible and treat our patient as we would like to be treated this is so hard sometimes. Almost everyday! Hang in there and I would want you to be my nurse!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thanks so much, as always my friend.
April Hodges says
I salute you. From one nurse to another, I understand- and thanks for being so open. You are a blessing!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much!
Kathy Nolan says
Love and hugs to you. Been there as an ICU nurse and it never easy. Don’t be so hard on yourself.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you 🙂
Cathy says
I know that you are amazing nurse. I would be honored to have you care for my family!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much. 🙂
ckramercoaching says
It takes a much bigger person to realize how your tone affected another person than to just let it go. It shows that you care about everyone – not just your patients. It shows that you are human and make mistakes just like the rest of us. I have found in my career that if I make a mistake, I own up to it and admit that I’m not perfect. It is refreshing to find another person who is the same way. Hugs!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thanks so much! I appreciate your comment. 🙂 Hugs to you.
Cindy says
Your honesty and integrity truly represents and honors our profession!! Wonderfully written.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much! I appreciate that.
Amy Garren says
(hugs) you have no idea how some caring words mattered and how great it is that you care.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much!