Julianna Paradisi blogs at JParadisi RN; her artwork appeared on the cover of the October 2009 issue of AJN, and her essay, “The Wisdom of Nursery Rhymes,” is upcoming in the February issue.
My patient sits in a chair, watching a DVD presentation about caring for his new, surgically inserted, tunneled catheter. In a few weeks, this catheter will be used for his stem cell transplant. I am teaching him how to flush it and change the dressing. He’s from out in the sticks, too far away from the clinic for our nursing staff to provide the care for him. He doesn’t have family or friends for support. After the DVD, I bring out a chest manikin and dressing kit to demonstrate the sterile dressing change. As I explain the technique of donning sterile gloves, he stops me with a challenging glare.
“I can’t do sterile.”
I stop what I’m doing to explain the dangers of infection if the dressing isn’t sterile. Like a car stuck in a snowdrift, he remains unbudged. “I can’t do sterile,” he insists. I puzzle over what to say next. My coworkers flurry by in their white lab coats. I’m wearing a white lab coat, too. My patient is lost in a health care blizzard. He doesn’t see snowflakes. He only sees snow. Read the rest of this entry ?
