About Hui-wen Sato, MSN, MPH, RN, CCRN

Hui-Wen (Alina) Sato, MSN, MPH, RN, CCRN, is a pediatric intensive care nurse in Southern California and blogs at http://heartofnursing.blog.

When Nurses Are Caught Between Hospital Policy and Frustrated Family Members

A difficult exchange

Photo by Riccardo Chiarini on Unsplash

She was one of those patients who remind me of my own daughters, who make me consider up close what it would feel like to watch a terrible disease process insidiously take over my own child’s body. Her cancer had spread and she was struggling to breathe.

The team had told the parents it was likely we might have to give her a breathing tube before my shift was over. The parents were teary-eyed as I told them I would do my best to walk with them through a difficult day. They went downstairs to get food, at which point the patient, who had been dozing in bed, sat up and looked around. I went to her immediately, rubbed her back, and assured her that her parents would return shortly.

When her parents returned to the room, they brought more visitors than the three that our hospital policy allowed. I was a little anxious because I had already heard that this had been an issue overnight and that the parents had pushed back on efforts by another nurse to hold them to the policy.

I did my best to wait for a moment when bringing up the […]

2024-11-04T09:49:56-05:00November 4th, 2024|Nursing|1 Comment

A Pediatric ICU Nurse Finds Relief in Not Compartmentalizing Hard Emotions Like Grief

Editor’s note: Hui-wen Sato is a pediatric ICU nurse in California and a regular writer for this blog who has gone deeply into the topic of grief, her own and that of patients and their families. Her insights reverse our usual ways of understanding grief, finding a generative energy instead of a wasteland. Here is a key passage from a TED-style talk (see video below) she gave at the last End Well Project conference in November 2023. End Well is “a nonprofit on a mission to transform how the world thinks about, talks about, and plans for the end of life.”

And so I realized that what I was going to need to learn how to do was not compartmentalize, but integrate all of my experiences into all of who I am. And as I started to learn how to integrate all of my experiences, there came a curious relief and freedom with this integration. Because I no longer had to pretend that I didn’t grieve for my patients. I could just grieve. And I could then get in closer and actually learn more about who they were, who their families were, and I could start to provide a kind of care I think I perhaps had always wanted to provide, but perhaps was a little too scared to get close enough to learn how.”

The Pitfalls of Being the ‘Nice’ Patient: A Nurse’s Perspective

Image Brent Keane/via Pexels

I have often heard health care professionals in various environments say, “If you’re nice to the nurses and doctors who take care of you, you’ll get better care.” As a bedside nurse myself, I understand the sentiment. No busy health care worker loves being met with antagonism or pressing demands that don’t strike us as critically urgent.

But when my husband and I both became patients with serious illnesses last year, we learned the clinical pitfalls of being the nice patients. I am left wondering how patients should be expected or permitted to advocate for their own care without worrying that they will be frowned upon or brushed off because they’re perceived as “difficult.”

First cautionary tale.

In early 2022, I discovered a small lump under my right breast that I initially wrote off as a cyst. Surely, I told myself, as a woman in her mid-40s with no risk factors for breast cancer, this had to be benign. A screening mammogram in May 2022 gave me an all-clear, and I went on my way.

But by November, I knew the lump had grown. I reached out to my PCP to ask for a diagnostic mammogram, and he emailed back a casual reassurance. “I know you’re worried, but […]

Honoring the Personhood of Brain-Dead Patients: A Delicate Approach

A dandelion alone in a field suggests the fragility of life. Photo by RIDVAN AYRIK/ Pexels

In the past month, we had a couple of patients in our pediatric ICU who had suffered tragic neurological injuries and were declared medically brain-dead. In the state of California as in most states, a pronouncement of brain death is equal to a legal pronouncement of death, and the medical team then possesses legal permission to remove mechanical support from the physical body that has remained under intensive care.

In both of these cases in our ICU, the parents struggled to accept the terminal implications of brain death and pushed back to varying degrees for more time to see if their children might still somehow find a way to recover. In these types of cases, the actual moment-by-moment practice of bedside nursing care becomes complicated. How do we honor the personhood of the patient as we provide intensive care for the body prior to removing mechanical support, and at the same time gently help the parents accept that their child has medically died?

The potential for misunderstanding nursing care

The interactions nurses have with family members as we care for their brain-dead child present many opportunities for […]

Primary Nursing of Medically Complex Children in the ICU Increases Parental Trust

Differing views about quality of life.

Photo by Pat Smith/Pexels

As medical care has become increasingly advanced in its ability to prolong life in the face of serious, chronic illness, it has also presented complicated challenges for both the caregivers and care-receivers alike. This holds especially true when we venture into the thorny, subjective realm of “quality of life.”

Sam was a patient with serious chronic illness and severe developmental disability who had been in and out of our pediatric ICU for many years. His most recent nine-month hospitalization had been the most frightening and uncertain thus far, and the gap between the perspectives of the medical team and Sam’s mom had became more apparent. The medical team speculated whether Sam was approaching the end of his life, while his mom asked us to continue doing all we could to maximize Sam’s physical longevity.

Unspoken questions also involved our struggle to measure what exactly comprises “enough” quality of life to justify the continued offering of health care resources. It’s an inevitable struggle with scarce resources and the monetization of quality of life, particularly with a chronically ill, severely disabled child who can feel so “other” to those of us living “normal” lives.

Parents come to our unit seeking care […]

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