Nurses Aren’t Just Healers, They’re Teachers Too: A Patient’s View

Illustration by Jennifer Rodgers. All rights reserved. Illustration by Jennifer Rodgers. All rights reserved.

A teeny red bump had mysteriously appeared on my left index finger. It hurt when I pressed on it. I figured it was nothing. . . .

That’s the start of the June Reflections essay in AJN, “Ms. Lisa and Ms. MRSA,” a patient experience narrative by freelance writer Shannon Harris. As luck would have it, the bump on her finger, it turns out, is not nothing. It’s MRSA.

The diagnosis takes a while. Finally the situation worsens, and surgery is needed. The author takes it all in stride, at least in retrospect:

The third physician stood out to me most. He asked to take a picture of my green and black, staph-infected finger with his iPhone. “Sure. Look at it! I thought this only happened to pirates,” I told him as he snapped away. He glanced at the young, button-nosed nurse standing beside him. “Don’t you want a picture? For your records?” he asked.

She shook her head, squinting and gritting her teeth. “I know. Yuck,” I said. I later shared photos of my infection journey online, to the great wonder and disgust of my friends and family. Before that, though, came surgery.

The author’s tone is light, but the […]

The Delicate Dance for Stability

By Patricia O’Brien

Loïe Fuller sketched by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec/via Wikimedia Commons Loïe Fuller sketched by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec/via Wikimedia Commons

In college I got a part-time job as a companion to an elderly widow named Fran, driving her around town and assisting with errands: post office, hairdresser, the market, her psychiatrist. The routine was set, and all was well for many months.

But one day, something unusual happened. Fran opened her door with a grand flourish, eyes shining. The television, radio, and blender were blasting. “Shall we go,” I asked, hurrying to turn off the noisy electronics.

“Fran,” I observed, “the blender’s empty.”

“Let’s not bother with tiresome details. I’m out of my head today,” she said, with purposeful excitement. At the pharmacy, this time, I took notice of the medication I picked up for her: lithium.

“What’s lithium for?” I asked, sliding into the car.

“A bipolar disorder. Not to worry. I’ve navigated these choppy seas half my life.”

We did errands. All the while, she acted like she was on the campaign trail for mayor, laughing, waving to friends, and smoking up a storm. At the market she hugged the meat manager, who was arranging Italian sausages. He looked confused, but smiled and told her there was a special on calf’s liver.

“I’ll take it all,” she declared, making […]

A Little Levity to Ease the Family Caregiver’s Burden

Illustration by Hana Cisarova for AJN/All right reserved. Illustration by Hana Cisarova for AJN/All right reserved.

According to the CDC, almost 21% of households in the U.S. are affected by family caregiving responsibilities. The pressures and costs of this unpaid labor of love have been well documented.

This month’s Reflections essay, “Swabbing Tubby,” is written from the family caregiver perspective rather than that of a nurse. It’s about the wife and two adult daughters of an ailing older man as they are coached in one of the skills they will need to care for him at home.

It’s a tough situation, but one in this case leavened by the ability of these three women to laugh a little at the more absurd aspects of their predicament. Here’s the beginning:

In retrospect, I can’t help feeling sorry for the earnest young woman who tried so hard to show my mother, my sister, and myself how to hook up our brand-new, at-home, IV feeding device. She was all of 25, with the freshly scrubbed look of a young schoolgirl. Her youthful perkiness was no match for the trio of exhausted, crabby women who faced her across the empty hospital bed. Dad was down in X-ray having yet another CT scan, and the three of us were […]

Storytelling as a Vital Source of Knowledge and Connection in Nursing

I’m not saying that nurses should abandon the quantitative and evidence-based practices that we know have saved many lives. But we should also seek to balance and contextualize this approach through humbly listening to the stories of those we care for. Some of my greatest learning has come from individual client stories and from the rich meaning of their experiences. Stories from clients about their lives can have both a tangible and an intangible effect on the care we provide. A story may create an atmosphere of openness, closeness, and warmth that is both soothing and healing during the most trying times.

Lascaux cave painting/via Wikipedia Lascaux cave painting/via Wikipedia

That’s an excerpt from “He Told Me a Dream of Animals Leaving His Heart,” this month’s Viewpoint essay by Mary Smith, a nurse practitioner and PhD student who writes of caring for a traditional healer as a community health nurse working in a First Nation community in an isolated northern area in Canada.

Smith discusses the many roles storytelling can play: it’s a way to inspire nursing students and explore ethical issues, a source of knowledge about patients and communities, a way to bridge cultural differences, and much more. The piece is direct, short, and written with clarity and insight. Give it a read and see if it gets you thinking or speaks to your own experience.—Jacob Molyneux, senior editor

 

Resisting the Rising Tide of Parkinson’s

By Barbara Hranilovich. All rights reserved. By Barbara Hranilovich. All rights reserved.

The Reflections essay in the October issue of AJN is called “After-Dinner Talks.” These are talks with a purpose, a form of physical therapy with high stakes. Writes the author, Minter Krotzer, of her husband’s long struggle with Parkinson’s disease: “Hal always says Parkinson’s is not his identity, and it isn’t, as long as he doesn’t let it claim him, or as long as it doesn’t claim us.”

Here’s an excerpt from the beginning:

‘I’d like you two to have a conversation every night after dinner,’ Hal’s speech therapist said to us.

. . . . Over the years, Hal’s Parkinson’s disease has made him difficult to understand. His vocal cords have restricted movement and it is hard for him to make it to the end of a sentence. He often swallows his last words or they just barely come out. Sometimes he sounds like he is underwater—the words indistinguishable from one another, blurry and pitchless.

But read the short essay, which is free. In just one page it manages to say a lot about chronic illness and the constant, conscious effort it can require of both patients and family members; about a clinician’s good advice; about marriage and communication; and about the power of language to keep us human.—Jacob Molyneux, senior editor.

Illustration by Barbara Hranilovich; all rights reserved.

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