Posts Tagged ‘nurse’

h1

The Kiss: Hope in the ICU

June 4, 2012

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular contributor to this blog. Her essay, “The Love Song of Frank,” was published in the May issue of AJN.

by limegreeen9, via flickr creative commons

I always look forward to interdisciplinary rounds. I’ve worked with most of the team members for years and enjoy the differing perspectives and collaboration. Today is no exception; I know my patient very well, as he’s been in the ICU for months. As the interdisciplinary team moves through the ICU like a small mingling mob, pausing at each room for a brief nursing report and lingering for discussion, I stand in anticipation, ready to present my patient’s case.

My report, though, is politely cut short by the medical director.

“What’s changed?” he wants to know.

And I feel pressed to produce some crumb of improvement. 

“Well…” I say. “He kisses his wife. His GCS* remains eight, but he kisses his wife.”

A few people smile, and I hear a few chuckles.

“It’s a reflex!” I hear someone say as they move away.

I know, of course, how little the kisses mean from a medical standpoint. His initial injury was neurologic, and his neuro status is quite compromised, but stable. His cardiovascular, gastrointestinal, and genitourinary systems are stable, as well. It’s respiratory insufficiency that keeps him in the unit. Puckering his lips in response to his wife leaning towards him is not significant and likely doesn’t change where he is or where he’s going.

And yet . . . his wife, Linda, crosses town every day on a city bus to come and see him. She calls us en route, and we slide him into a cardiac chair before she arrives. She spends hours with him, rubbing hospital-grade lotion into his hands and feet as she chats with him about the details of the life she’s navigating without him. She works each of his joints in turn, counting the repetitions to the beat of country music. She’s made his ICU room homey, even hanging a vanilla scented, tree-shaped air freshener from his IV pole, which I find particularly touching.

I sit, charting, and watch them out of the corner of my eye. I’m distracted by the beauty of Linda’s devotion. There’s a quality to her interactions with her husband that feels rare and that I find difficult to describe. 

I love it that he kisses his wife. The act itself may hold no medical significance, nor does it signify romantic love. But what I sense in them is more profound than romance, and because of that the simple kiss seems deep and intrinsic.

Perhaps, in that way, it is a reflex, after all.

*GCS refers to the patient’s level of consciousness, as measured by the Glasgow Coma Scale (range: 3–15)

Bookmark and Share

h1

At the Terminus of Romantic Dreams, an ICU

April 26, 2012

It was early. The sun had yet to rise, but already the ICU was filled with stark fluorescence and beeping alarms. My patient sat alone and aphasic, helpless amidst the bustle of the unit. The day stretched long ahead of us.

The circumstances of Frank’s admission were unusual. The nursing report (conveyed with a snicker) was that, while vacationing in our coastal city with his mistress, he’d slipped away and visited yet another lady friend. While engaged in an “intimate” act, he’d hit his head on the coffee table and been knocked unconscious.

The paramedic’s report backed up that version of events, but Frank’s admission CT scans of the brain weren’t consistent with head trauma. Instead, a vascular abnormality was found. He’d suffered two seizures since admission to the hospital.

by utahwildflowers/via Flickr

That’s the start of “The Love Song of Frank,” the Reflections essay in the May issue of AJN. Click on its title to read the entire essay (and, once there, perhaps click through to the PDF version for the best read). 

Those of you who know the T. S. Eliot poem “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” (beautifully spun, and a favorite of bookish adolescents for its highly quotable and world-weary take on conventional society) will recognize the irony in the title.

But the essay, by ICU nurse and regular AJN blogger Marcy Phipps, stands on its own in its sympathetic but unsentimental description of a nurse’s encounter with a man who’s reached the limits of his own brand of romanticism. Some readers may have less compassion for this man and his apparent fate than others. Either way, it’s well worth a read, and not our typical Reflections essay either, if such a thing exists.—JM, senior editor/blog editor 

Bookmark and Share

h1

The ‘Inexhaustible Well’: Notes from a Trauma Nurse on Mortality

April 19, 2012

UW Digital Collections/via Flickr

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular contributor to this blog. Her essay, “The Love Song of Frank,” will be published in the May issue of AJN.

Years ago, long before I was a nurse, I read The Sheltering Sky, by Paul Bowles. He speaks of the tendency of people to take life for granted, and says that in the unpredictability of death there lies a presumption that everything is limitless:

“Because we don’t know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four, five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps 20. And yet it all seems limitless.” 

Lately, especially at work, that quote has edged forward and lingered with me. The ICU I work in is primarily devoted to trauma, but there’s been a recent shift in patient demographics. Last week I took care of only one trauma patient—an athlete who’d had a bike accident—and then three patients with cancer in varying stages.

The patient I’m most haunted by is a 65-year-old woman who had arrived in the ER with pain and weakness and would be leaving the hospital with a stunning diagnosis of stage IV cancer, and with numbered days. When I last spoke to her she’d just met her new oncologist and was waiting to be transferred out of the ICU.

“I’m going home,” she said. “I’m going to be with my family and sit on my porch. I’m having a glass of wine.” Read the rest of this entry ?

h1

Nurses Know

January 6, 2012

It happened back in 1976, but I still remember the sound of the distant ambulance. Why was I lying in the grass and the weeds? Hadn’t I been in the car, driving home from the Visiting Nurse Association along the country road?

So begins the January Reflections essay, “Nurses Know.” By Lois Gerber, it’s one patient’s vivid story of the many crucial roles that nurses played in her care—and it’s free, so have a look and let us know what you think. For those of you who write or who think you have a strong story to tell about nurses, nursing, or some aspect of health care, Reflections submission guidelines can be found here.—JM, senior editor/blog editor

h1

Second Chances

January 3, 2012

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular contributor to this blog. Her essay, “The Soul on the Head of a Pin,” was published in the May 2010 issue of AJN.

by patchy patch, via flickr

I first met Ella (name and some details have been changed) when she was my patient in the intensive care unit. She’d been riding in a car she wasn’t supposed to be riding in, heading to a party she wasn’t supposed to be going to, high on drugs and not wearing a seatbelt when she was involved in a high-speed crash that left her with broken bones and internal injuries. She was in the ICU for more than a month.

Her situation wasn’t that remarkable. Ella could easily represent a common category of ICU admissions—the young adult who is often described by her parents as a “good girl,” yet who lives wildly, fearless and flip, taking risks as if consequences will never apply. I feel particularly protective of these patients, mostly because I relate to them, on some level. I remember the sense of invincibility that came with youth, and when I’m caring for these girls I often marvel at consequences I avoided in my own life. I shake my head at my younger self, alternating between feeling extraordinarily blessed and very lucky. I’m not sure the risks I’ve taken in life compare—but still, I had no concept of the fragility of life. I certainly didn’t comprehend its worth.

I cared for Ella often and became fond of her. I felt like I knew her, even though she was usually sedated. I fussed over her, when I had the time. “Don’t do drugs,” I whispered in her ear as I washed her hair. “Wear your seat belt. Stay away from bad guys!” And also, “You survive this, you can do anything!”

She slowly got better and was moved to the step-down floor. A few weeks later I ran into her mom in the cafeteria. She told me Ella was doing great, that she was walking with physical therapy and talking. She encouraged me to come and visit her, and so I did. Read the rest of this entry ?

h1

Top 10 (New) AJN Posts of 2011

December 20, 2011

"Consumer Choice,' BdR76, via Flickr

Some of our posts, like this one from 2009 (“New Nurses Face Reality Shock in Hospitals–So What Else Is New?”) keep getting found and read. They remain as relevant today as they were when we posted them. Our top 20 posts for the year (according to reader hits, that is) include several others like this: “What Is Meaningful Use? One Savvy Nurse’s Take”; “Is the Florence Nightingale Pledge in Need of a Makeover?”; “Do Male Nurses Face Reverse Sexism?”; “Are Nursing Strikes Ethical? New Research Raises the Stakes”; and “Workplace Violence Against Nurses: Neither Inevitable or Acceptable.”

But putting aside these contenders (why do so many of them have questions in their titles?), here are the top 10 (again, according to our readers) new posts of 2011, in case you missed them along the way. Which doesn’t mean that these are (necessarily) our best posts, or a representative sample, or that many others didn’t hit home for various subgroups of readers.

While we all get a little tired of lists by this time in the year, we don’t really use them an awful lot here at Off the Charts. So please indulge us this once, and thanks to everyone who wrote, read, and commented on this blog in 2011.—Jacob Molyneux, AJN senior editor/blog editor

1. “Notes of a Student Nurse: A Dose of Reality,” by Jennifer-Clare Williams

2. “Placenta Facebook Photos: Nurse and Mommy Tribes See Expulsion Differently,” by AJN editor-in-chief Shawn Kennedy

3. “Dispatches from the Alabama Tornado Zone,” a series of posts by Susan Hassmiller, senior adviser for nursing at the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation

4. “Confused About the Charge Nurse Role? You’re Not Alone,” by Jacob Molyneux

5. “The Priceless Clarity of Inexperience,” by Marcy Phipps, an ICU nurse and regular contributor to this blog

6. “Don’t Cling to Tradition: A Nursing Student’s Call for Realism, Respect,” by Medora McGinnis

7. “Bullying Wars: Theresa Brown vs. ‘the entire profession,’” by Shawn Kennedy

8. “Remembering 9/11: Nurses Were There,” Shawn Kennedy

9. “Killing Traditional Nursing Duties #2,” Shawn Kennedy

10. This one’s a tie: “Nurses, Hospitals, and Social Media: It Depends What Business You’re In,” by Julianna Paradisi, artist/nurse/blogger, and “One Take on the Top 10 Issues Facing Nursing,” by Shawn Kennedy

 Bookmark and Share

h1

Reading Between the Whiteboard Lines in the ICU

December 15, 2011

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular contributor to this blog. Her essay, “The Soul on the Head of a Pin,” was published in the May 2010 issue of AJN.

My hospital uses dry-erase whiteboards as a tool to communicate with patients and family members. Mounted to the walls in the patients’ rooms, the boards are prominent and concise.  Aside from a lot of basic information, notes get added to the board when diagnostic tests are completed, when complementary therapies have been implemented, and when housekeeping staff visit. The “meat” of the board, however, is the section that addresses plans and goals for the day. The plans and goals are updated and modified continuously by nursing staff. They’re specific to each patient, yet, despite their personalization, the goals for ICU patients tend to fall into distinct categories.

The first category includes goals which are often set by the patients themselves. They tend to require a certain amount of collaboration and active participation. These types of goals, which include things like “maximize incentive spirometer use,” “ambulate,” and “advance diet,” imply a relatively healthy state and tend to predict transfer orders.

The next type of goal is aimed at restoring health and stability. These goals don’t necessarily require patient participation and often focus on pathophysiologic processes. On the whiteboards of these rooms, the listed goals are likely to include things like “wean ventilator,” “control agitation,” “control fever,” or “increase level of consciousness.” In these cases, the goals are often of more interest to the family members than the patients.

The most critically ill and unstable patients are the hardest people for whom to establish goals, and sometimes the immediacy and focus required to support these patients preclude the time required to formulate and write goals on a dry-erase board. The more pressing the needs of the patient, the briefer the goals tend to be, and the brevity often portends the gravity of the situation: “oxygenate,” “ventilate,” “perfuse.” The goal “live” also belongs to this category, although decorum discourages writing “live” as the plan for the day.

Overall, the whiteboards are excellent communication tools. Although they’re not always utilized or appreciated by the ICU patients themselves, they often serve as touchstones for family members, who take comfort in written updates and established goals. They provide a different kind of communication to the nurses, though. In a unit where stability can be as fleeting as a dry-erase marker, the whiteboards sometimes provide a snapshot of general direction—especially for those reading between the lines.

 Bookmark and Share

h1

Bad News, Good News: Berwick, a Casualty of Politics, Succeeded at CMS Helm by a Nurse

November 30, 2011

By Shawn Kennedy, MA, RN, editor-in-chief

Marilyn Tavenner

When Donald Berwick steps down from his post as administrator of the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS) on December 2, he’ll turn the reins over to Marilyn Tavenner, MHA, BSN, RN. Tavenner is not a new face at CMS—she served as acting administrator prior to Berwick’s July 2010 appointment by President Obama and has been principal deputy administrator at CMS since February 2010.

As noted by an article in The Washington Post, Berwick is stepping down in the face of organized opposition to his nomination by Republicans in Congress, who have vowed to block the confirmation he’d need to continue after his recess appointment expires on December 31.

On November 23, President Obama announced his intent to nominate Tavenner for the top post. In her e-mail to CMS staff (carried on the Kaiser Health News site), Kathy Sebelius, secretary of  Health and Human Resources, says of Tavenner, “Her career as a nurse, hospital administrator, and Virginia Secretary of Health and Human Resources give her unique insights that position her well to serve as Administrator.”

I certainly hope so. Berwick’s reputation and track record for pinpointing problems in our health system—and more importantly, working to do something about them through the Institute for Healthcare Improvement—was stellar, and he carried this zeal into his government position as he grappled with the daunting task of implementing reforms in the Affordable Care Act. Read the rest of this entry ?

h1

From the Blogs: Negotiating Medicare, Nurses Doing Research, Reader Comments

November 29, 2011


Medicare is confusing for providers who aren’t yet familiar with it. Here’s a Nursetopia post that draws attention to its complexity and notes the useful video above (it’s one of a series of videos on different aspects of Medicare). Those of you who know all about it already: Drop by her thoughtful (and consistently updated!) blog and let her know your own tips on handling the ins and outs of Medicare and Medicaid.

EBP matters. Terri Schmitt at Nurse Story has a frank and engaging post on evidence-based practice (EBP): “Translation of EBP: Why Creating Nurse Scientists is the Way to Improve Patient Outcomes.” Here’s what she promises to cover in it:

  • Research is sometimes far removed from bedside nurses
  • Research is COOL!
  • Research is about PATIENTS and not fame/fortune of researcher
  • Research is critical to practice and there are big gaps that nurses need to fill
  • Bedside nurses may be the most crucial link in research ideas, translation, and practice.

(Shameless plug for related AJN content: See our recent, amazingly useful step-by-step CE series on how nurses can get involved in evidence-based practice.)

Plus a brief note on reader comments: we’ve been getting a lot of great comments lately on this blog, and we’re grateful for that. So thank you. A fair number of the comments were on posts from previous months, such as this post comparing U.S. and Australian health care systems. Is somebody by chance teaching a nursing course that requires students to leave thoughtful, respectful, engaged comments in the blogosphere? If so, bless you!—JM, senior editor/blog editor

Bookmark and Share

h1

On Euphemisms and Learning to Be Present

November 28, 2011

By Alicia Marie Hinton, who is a BSN student at the College of New Rochelle School of Nursing in New Rochelle, NY. This is her first post for this blog.

by grepsy, via flickr

My senior year preceptorship was an assignment on a palliative and acute care unit at a busy medical center. When I received the assignment, I prayed that no patient of mine would die during my time on the unit. Every nursing student is afraid of their first patient death. Simulation and course work prepare students in various ways for this experience, but nothing can really prepare you for the emotions you’ll feel. Some students experience a patient death during an undergraduate nursing program, but for others it may not happen until their first year or two working as an RN. I hoped to never endure it, but knew it was inevitable.

During report, working alongside my preceptor, I listened anxiously to the status of the various patients. Since my first day on the unit, I’d practiced my therapeutic techniques and researched different cultural needs pertaining to the death of a patient. I felt culturally competent and well informed about what a nurse should do when a patient dies, but I couldn’t shake my fear. What would I say to the family? Would they value my presence?

Finally, during morning rounds on my third day on the unit, I was told that a certain Mr. P wasn’t doing too well and might “expire” that day. Our focus would be to provide comfort for him and his family.

How did they know he was to “expire”? Was that the politically correct term for dying? I was familiar with “passed away,” “deceased,” or “gone to a better place.” But the word “expire” didn’t feel right. I’d cared for Mr. P since his admission and interacted daily with his family, and news of his impending death hit me hard, increasing my anxiety about how I’d respond when it happened. While I was anxious about my own feelings about the patient’s death, I was preoccupied with my ability to comfort that family. Read the rest of this entry ?

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 296 other followers