For the Doubting Family of My Patient,
I know you find yourself in a tough spot right now. I really do. After all, you are in the midst of the challenges inherent when the one you love falls ill. It’s stressful, physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s also utterly exhausting. And in the center of this trying situation you have lost control. You have begun to see that the only thing certain about your loved one’s health is that it is indeed uncertain. I’m sorry for that.
But when you bring your family to the hospital you both make a decision. You decide that this issue is more than you can handle at home, and you realize that you need outside assistance from your healthcare system. In essence, you place your life in the hands of a stranger/strangers because they promise to do the best they possibly can for you. And for that I say “thank you.”
So what’s the problem, you ask. Well, since we’ve gone this far, let’s keep going. What I’m trying to say is if you have entered the doors of my ER seeking our counsel, and then agreed to admission on my unit for further care, then you’ve made the decision to trust me.
So… trust me.
Doctors, nurses, and all the other wonderful people that make up your healthcare team join forces with one purpose in mind. No, it’s not to make money. That’s helpful, but it’s not why we do what we do. Our actual goal is to improve health one patient at a time. Our calling is to make your family member better, and we desire to do just that.
We’ve been through the training, the years of advanced education, and even more years of on-the-job, extensive experience. So we know what we’re talking about. Don’t doubt me or my abilities; trust me.
So perhaps your doctor looks young. Maybe to you, I do too. But trust us.
For the record, I love questions. I ask tons. You are free to ask me questions about your family member’s care. I actually enjoy sharing my knowledge with you. But when you place yourself in a position of questioning every single action, intervention, and minuscule step taken by your nurse, then you aren’t helping; you’re hurting.
When you ask for explanation and clarification, but then speak over me when I try to answer, it’s pointless. Don’t ask my opinion if you don’t want to hear it.
If you speak poorly of every single physician involved in your family member’s care, criticize the nursing staff who came before me, and in general continuously express your disgust with the facility then I will feel uncomfortable. I will become distracted from providing the best care I possibly could because I fear your wrath will become projected in my direction. I also get a bit disgusted, and that might unintentionally affect my performance. Just being honest.
I do want you to express your concerns and discontentment. I want to make your stay pleasant, after all, but if you consistently degrade the staff trying their best for the patient, then I may feel helpless. I may feel like I can’t perform to your satisfaction no matter how hard I try, and I might concede defeat.
Guess who suffers? The patient.
I do want to hear what you read on Google about the medicine we’ve just ordered, but please understand WebMD is no proper replacement for the actual physician on your case. I’ll be happy to listen to the story of your neighbor’s cousin who had a rare interaction to the exact therapy we have prescribed. I just ask that you also listen when I explain the likelihood of that not occurring here.
I am always glad to learn of your experience in the healthcare field, be it an EMT 20 years ago, a brother who’s a podiatrist, or simply OJT from you’re family member being chronically ill. I’ll listen to your opinions and instill them in the current plan of care as appropriate. All I ask in return is that you remember that I work here, I’ve been doing this particular job for a very long time, and I do know what I’m talking about. Again, don’t doubt me; trust me.
I’ll be happy to have you on the team. Together we can work towards the greater good to make your loved one’s stay here a better one. But you can’t doubt me. You gotta have a little faith in me.
You can see my badge with the title RN, and you can see the credentials that follow it, but what you can not see is my heart. You don’t see that I pray before I come to work every morning, that I ask God to “help me hear your voice and do no harm.”
You may not realize that I worry, often times unnecessarily, about your loved one, or that I weep for them too when I’m off the clock. My calm demeanor may come off as indifference, but it’s really a focused determination to do everything right. I take my job very seriously, and I don’t mind if you try to see that.
I see you. I see that this is hard for you, and I do my best to place myself in your shoes. All I ask is for a little reciprocation. Try to see it from my position. Understand that I get busy, I get under-staffed and overwhelmed. I may not be able to spend thirty minutes explaining a procedure to you twice. I may only have fifteen minutes. I want you to feel comfortable, but I also want you to not doubt every single thing we try to do to make the patient better.
I want you to know that I love what I do, and I love my patients, but when you doubt me or my team without cause you make our jobs near impossible to perform well.
Try to remember why you came here in the first place. If you disagree with our care that ferociously you are free to leave at any time. But if you decide to stay for the same reasons that made you dial 911 then I ask that you do us all, the patient included, a big favor. Don’t doubt us.
Thanks for Understanding,
Your Nurse