It had been a long day. My back ached from pulling on someone who outweighed me by 100 pounds, and I could feel my calves stinging from running up and down the long hall. The sound of call lights echoed in my head, and their noxious noise was only rivaled by the distant beep of persistent IV pumps you couldn’t pinpoint location on. My eyes burned from looking at a computer screen that kept freezing up despite its promise to make my job easier, and it seemed like our unit had a revolving door on this particular day.
As I ran back and forth I could sense the aggravation mounting, and as my incontinent GI bleed patient soiled the bed once again words of frustration escaped my lips. Even if just under my breath. And as I felt the burn in my lower back while turning her over I realized something I didn’t intend. I was without compassion as I rolled. It was only for a moment, but it made me grimace inside nonetheless that it had occurred at all.
Nurses become nurses because of their desire to help others, and no matter what the paycheck may be, the real inspiration for professionals is the feeling that they have made someone better with their actions, whatever that may be. Yet in the hump and grind of a busy shift it’s easy to forget your purpose. It’s easier still to lose your empathetic touch.
When demands are high and staffing is low it’s easy to become bitter at the load you have to carry. When the acuity of care increases but nurse to patient ratios do not change it becomes exhausting. Infuriating.
When the patient population grows more demanding and less appreciative of care it’s disheartening. When physician/nurse relationships are demeaning more than they are professional it’s demoralizing to say the very least.
When educational requirements keep growing to keep up with technological advances it can be a little overwhelming, and as raises depend on satisfaction surveys it can result in a feeling of under-appreciation for the effort put forth.
And somewhere in the midst of all the core measure documentation, Press Gainey, and complaining family who’s watched too many episodes of Discovery Health Channel are nurses just trying to sit down so they can chart a mile’s worth of repetitive assessment information. In the midst of frustration a fundamental point has been lost.
Patients are human.
They’re not a room number or statistic. They’re not even a survey. They’re a sick individual who happens to be some woman’s momma or some fella’s dad. They’re husbands and wives with real fears over being hospitalized yet it’s so easy to forget that in the race to complete care. And in that never ending sprint we miss the basic point of nursing care. Seeing the person in that bed with eyes of empathy.
With eyes of empathy you see the shame over incontinence, and with that same vision you grasp how difficult being bedbound can be. With eyes of empathy you understand addiction is a disease and suicidal ideation is a desperate cry for help. Inappropriate, although human, annoyance is replaced with sympathetic and humanistic care. The “crazy lady” becomes a confused matriarch who’s simply frightened because she doesn’t know where she is at the time.
I think one of the worst things we can do as healthcare workers is forget how to put ourselves in the shoes of those we serve, and in that selfish tunnel vision we miss out on providing the most important portion of our calling.
Compassionate care.
Hope is not lost, though, for as nurses we have an innate desire to improve the lives of the community we serve, and as such it’s basically second nature to treat our patients with respect, sensitivity, and mercy. Our utmost reward is found when we dole out tender loving care to those under our charge, and nothing fills a nurse’s cup like caring with kindness or fulfilling that calling to change lives for the better.
So in the end you don’t only improve your patient’s circumstances, but you also improve your own day. You can walk with a lighter step and brighter countenance when you’ve fulfilled your manifest destiny despite the frustrations that abound.
This is the best reminder for every frontline caregiver, day in and day out, for one day it may be us in that bed, simply wishing for a sympathetic smile.