The Golden Rule: nurses version

This morning I told the day nurse that I "despised that patient's soul". In my defense, I didn't mean it quite that way. That was the talk of a nurse who had been running for 3 days straight, getting out late, dealing with computer downtimes, icu transfers, falls, and her. room 48. Every day the nurse told me she was the sweetest lady. Every night she turned into something... not sweet. She argued with me. She called me names. She called her daughter and told her I had tied her down with a metal bar. She got so bad I called the daughter and asked her to come in. at 3am. Not sure i have ever done that before. She was very obviously hallucinating. First clue? She wanted to know why I was purple with one big eye. at the beginning of the evening she cried about how she treated me. Three hours later it would start again. I helped her to the commode, called the doctor, gave her haldol (which did nothing.) I came so close to losing my patience. I complained about her at the desk, and I told the day nurse I despised her soul. Bad choice of words, but honestly, by this morning I was done with her. But you know what? I was the nicest thing with her. I smiled, I held her hand. I spoke softly and patiently with her. I got her up to the commode every 45 minutes for 12 hours straight. I closed the door and kept people out when she fell asleep at 630. I know when she wakes up, somewhat rested, her mind will clear. she will remember the person she was over night, and she will cry. she will hate it.
I came close to losing it, to refusing to go back in. Then it happened. During the night, when I got her up, I asked questions. Questions to see if she could remember things about her life in the midst of the muddle her mind was. You know what I learned? She has 3 kids, who took turns spending the night. She has 8 grandkids. 11 great-grandkids. One of them drew Godzilla on her whiteboard. SHer grandson called from Beijing. Another Grandson comes over every Sunday afternoon to play backgammon and crazy eights. She lives with her daughter. Despite all that was going on, the smile on her face when I said that she must have a special family. Yes, yes I do, she responded. A good life to show for at 95 years old.
A couple rooms down there is a lady I have had many times. A dialysis pt who needs a CABG but has had positive blood cultures for over a month. She is grouchy. Demanding. Refuses to move on her own, wants everything she wants 5 minutes ago. We have been dragging her out of bed, and she hates us for that. She refuses insulin. We have her on a fluid/diet restriction. She thinks we are starving her. I have had her for 4 nights in the past 2 weeks. And she wears at my soul. Never happy, never grateful. Always complaining. I did my best to stay calm, and I think I succeeded. I didn't let her have extra, but I made sure the water she did have was fresh and cold. And then the last night? She was smiling when I got there. SMILING. I noticed something else... pictures on the ledge. Grandkids. A drawn picture that read, my grandma is swet and kinde. I asked about them, and she talked on and on. And slept better that night then I think she has in the month she has been on our floor.

I have been working really hard lately to stay positive. To smile in my patients room, even when I want to strangle someone. The reason? Let me introduce them to you:

Meet my adopted Grandma Julia. She fell a couple of months ago, and ended up spending some time in a nursing home. She cried every time I went to visit her. It wasn't home, the nurses were over worked. Over new years her kids moved her into assisted living. Tomorrow I will go see her in her new home, and smile and tell her how much I love it. It is hard when you can't live alone anymore.

Meet my grandpa. He send me e-mails about how to cook roast and invest my money. He has a heart valve that should have stopped working something like 15 years ago, gets wounds on his leg cause he does things like go shopping when the wind is blowing so hard it slams his car door shut. He takes care of my grandma, who announce a couple of years back that after cooking for 50 years she was done. I love him, and have the distinct impression he would be one of those patients that argues with his nurses a lot.

Meet my mom's mom. She is very proud of me lately because I have developed a love of football. She was put on oxygen this year, and is pretty weak. She still runs the family, though. She is currently unhappy with her doctor because he told her he wasn't a KState fan the day after they beat Texas in a big upset.

Meet my dad's parents. My grandpa has had lung problems for years, and has to go to the hospital a couple of times a week for rehab and iv medications. He has charmed all the nurses so much that every time he goes he gets cookies, cinnamon rolls, fresh coffee, whatever he wants. I went to visit him in the hospital last year when he had pneumonia, and in his tiny-town hospital, pretty sure every person there stopped by to say hi and see how he was doing. pretty sure we are related to half of the staff. My grandma has always been the healthiest of my grandparents, but she has had a rough year with some AFIB, and troubles adjusting her medications. They live in this tiny town that is hands-down my favorite place to go unwind for a couple of days.

These are my reasons for working so hard to stay calm. To smile, to give the absolute best personal care I can to my patients no matter how trying they can be. The reason I have started slowing down, acknowleding that spending some time chatting about the news with the lady in isolation who is all alone is more important than getting every pill passed on time. Not talking medical care, but working more on the personal side. My patients. My people. I am doing it for the basic reasoning behind the golden rule. Do unto others as you want them to do you. Only I am turning it to nursing addition.

Take care of your patients as you hope other nurses are taking care of the people you love who are patients.

I love my grands. I love them, and I am watching as their health fails. I am watching it, I am hating it, and I am praying that they get the best care possible. and that the nurses who care for those I love take the time to talk to them. To learn about the kids, the grandkids, the stories behind their lives.

And while I pray that for them, I walk into room 48 with a smile.