A nurse's nightmare

When I went to bed last night I didn’t know I would bespending the night enduring the worst nursing shift of my life.

But I did, well sort of, I did it in my dreams.  I dreamt I was running around trying totake care of my patients and getting nowhere.  

First, I received a new admit and a patient from PACU, bothat the same time and I couldn’t find anone to help me get them into bed.  My new admit was a very old man in his 80’s or 90’s.  He was covered in urine.  His foley catheter was overflowing andthere was so much urine under him it looked like he was laying in a kiddy poolfilled with urine.  It sloshedaround when I moved the gurney across the room.  The room was full of furniture and supplies, none of whichwere useful to me and all of which were in the way.  I couldn’t even find his bed.  I couldn’t find a new foley catheter.  He had a dozen family members crammedinto the room surrounding his gurney and they were all watching me, waiting forme to get him off the gurney, into bed and cleaned up.  But I had no help, couldn’t findsupplies and the room was a disaster! 

I started running around the unit looking for supplies andlooking for someone who could help me. Supplies were everywhere, in bins similar to products at Ikea, and noneof them was what I needed.  Therewere miles and miles of hallway too, just like Ikea.  There were nurses everywhere, all of them unavailable tohelp me.  There were managers andcharge nurses having meetings in the hallway, and they all looked at me as if Iwas nuts for asking for their help. I started to cry.  I bawled even, as I ran around the unit looking for suppliesand help. 

Finally a few nurses took me seriously.  I frantically explained that I neededhelp and they followed me to the room of the old man laying in the urine filledkiddie pool.  Then, one afteranother, nurses kept filing into the room, each washing their hands with pilesof soap and each one using the isolation gowns, (did I mention this patient wason isolation?)  They just stoodthere not knowing what to do for me and clogging up my room.  This apparently seemed like a good timeto put a  new foley catheterin. 

With my manager and the educator and all my peers standingthere watching me, I kept dropping the foley catheters on the floor and wouldhave to get a new one.  Thensomehow the new ones were full of urine already.  The scene bounces between the foley catheters, the mounds ofsoap the nurses were using, my patient in a kiddie pool of urine and mecrying.  

I start to direct peopleto move the furniture out of the way so we can get the patient off the gurneyon into bed and realize I have to ask the dozen family members to leave.  I can tellthey don’t want to go but I ask if all can leave but one so that we can havesome room to arrange the patient comfortably.  They start to file out of the room, as I escort them to thedoor there is a little young lady in scrubs yelling at me at the doorway.  Like I had done something wrong.  

I’m pretty sure she was a nurses aideand I think she was mad that I needed so much help.  I was crying and yelled at her about how bad my day was andhow little help I had and if she knew what I’d been through she wouldn’t beyelling at me.  

I went back to theroom and started directing people on moving pieces of furniture.  There were tables, and chairs.  Big ones and little ones and abassinette and little rocking chairs and a sofa.  The patient's bed was on the opposite side of the room fromwhere it needed to be.  Of course,everyone is washing their hands after each piece of equipment they touch, andwith copious amounts of soap, then getting on new gowns and gloves.  I got exasperated with the isolationgown at one point and threw it and my gloves off saying “I just don’t careanymore”.  Immediately after, I gotsome nasty bodily fluids on my hands. Looking down I realized I had a big cut on my left palm that was nowcontaminated with bodily fluids. So I began washing with lots of soap and water.

Eventually Igot the help I needed.  The roomwas arranged.  The bed was where isshould be and the multiple chairs were lined up out of the way for the familymembers.  I had a clean foleycatheter to insert and I wasn’t crying anymore.

This was the most vivid nursing dream I have ever had.  What does it mean?  Is it a metaphor for the nursing profession?

Being surrounded by supplies and unable to find what youneed.  Two patients needing you at the same time.  Fellow nurses unavailable to help.

Family members with expectations far beyond what one humancan actually deliver.  Not a single doctor in sight.  Managers and charge nurses who appear to do nothing but clogthe hallways.  CNA’s with attitude.  Family members in the way.  And apparently nurse co-workers who are obsessed with soap, and isolation gowns.  Cluttered rooms.  The crying.  Taking shortcuts that get you in trouble.

UGH!  I hope that's not what nursing is.

Applying for a job

About 6 months ago I applied for the nurse manager job in my critical care unit. I didn't get it. An ER nurse got the job. I was upset. I felt that one of the applicants from the ICU should have gotten it. After all, the three of us from the ICU that had applied for it had devoted years to the care of critical patients. She was an ER nurse.

Turned out that this ER nurse is really good. I like her a lot. And I like how she manages the unit. I probably would not do as good a job as her. In fact, I'm sure of it.

A few weeks ago I heard an educator was leaving her position. I was so excited! Then so deflated as I heard they weren't going to replace her. Hence, I have spent the last few weeks in a funk. The ICU was full of really sick and hopeless, heartbreaking cases. I was sick with a headache almost every day. Surely a brain tumor misdiagnosed as chronic sinusitis. And I felt that I would never get a chance to advance my career. My attitude was poor. Every little annoyance at work bothered me.

Don't get me wrong. I love being an ICU nurse. I love taking good care of my patients. But I know I have so much more to contribute. I would have applied for the hospital President's job if I didn't think they'd laugh at me. Unit Based Educator is a perfect job for me but it was gone. A casualty of the recession. Or so I thought.

As I checked the job openings there it was. The Unit Based Educator job that I wanted. So I applied. And I am hopeful again. I am already looking for an interview outfit. Let's hope no one noticed my bad attitude these last few weeks. And let's hope my vocal nature won't hurt my chances.

The Slug

Have you ever cared for that patient referred to as a "slug"?  I first heard that reference in coronary care.  It referred to a post open heart patient that you had to pry out of bed, they didn't want to do anything to get better, they didn't want to eat, didn't want to walk, didn't want a shower.  They exist in all areas of health care.  Nursing homes, hospitals, clinics.  People get tired, get depressed, get demoralized, and give up.  They don't believe they can get better anymore.  They stop making any effort.

Sometimes the slug needs Nurse Ratchett.  The mean nurse that says "It's time to get up".  "No, you're not going back to bed, we're going to the shower."  "Do you want to sit in the chair or go for a walk?"  This is the patient that you need to come to a shared understanding with.  "Choosing to lay in bed is choosing to die.  Today, there is no reason you can't get up to a chair for every meal.  And after every meal we are going to walk one lap around the unit."

I had to be the mean nurse.  It wasn't fun.  The patient hated me.  And there were moments that I felt bad.  But I knew I was doing the right thing.

She wanted a bedpan when I had just seen her walk around the unit earlier that day.  Why in the world would you need a bedpan if you can walk?  "The commode is uncomfortable!" she exclaimed.  "Let's go into the bathroom then"  I insisted.  We went.  She did fine.  But she wouldn't look me in the eye.  She scowled the whole time, and rolled her eyes like a teenager.  It's not that she was incapable.  She got out of bed slowly but without any help from me.  She didn't need help.  I just stood by.  Just in case.  But she was strong enough and there was no reason for a bedpan.

I was with her for three days total.  Day one, I was nice nurse.  Day two and three I had figured her out and I had to become Nurse Ratchett.  She hated me.  She scowled at me.  Made statements like "There's no use arguing with you."  "This is some kind of power struggle."  "I have no say in what happens."

I gave her choices.  She had a pressure ulcer developing on her back.  I asked her to stay off of it.  She was independent with her bed mobility.  But even though I would get her on her side when in bed I would find her on her back a little while later.  On my second day with her, after making her take a shower, I asked her what she was going to do about the pressure ulcer on her back.  I made her own it.  After that, she stayed on her sides when in bed.  The next day, the pressure ulcer was starting to look better.  I let her decide left side or right, walk before the meal or after.

By day three she was up to a chair for every meal and she walked the unit before going back to bed each time.  At the end of my shift I told her I expected her to continue this plan while I was gone for the next four days.  Hopefully, her nurses won't be fooled, and will insist that she do what she is capable of.

The student I had with me put it well.  He said, "Our job isn't to make you happy, it's to make you well".  I was so proud.  This was actually a big lesson for him.  A young man who comes to nursing from a service industry job.  While, as nurses, we do need to be mindful of our "customer" and give them as good an experience as we can.  The goal is to get better.  Our job is to help them get better.  Even when they don't want to help themselves.