If Nurses Aged in Reverse
“No—no!” shrieked my 95-year-old patient with dementia as I turned her to her side with the help of my nursing assistant (now called a patient care tech, 30 years later).
The three daughters sitting at her bedside inhaled deeply, their eyes wide. I looked over at them, calmly explaining that their mom was just frightened, and then in a soft voice said to my patient, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Smith, we won’t let you fall,” as she continued to scream. We positioned pillows against her back, and another between her knees. As we saw the family relax, and the patient’s screams turn to a barely audible whimper, I caressed her back and felt satisfied that all was well.
Fast-forward to my retirement. Having inherited my parents’ degenerative joint disease, at age 72 I have certain specific ways to sleep so that my left shoulder doesn’t hurt, my left hip bursitis doesn’t flare, and my right arm doesn’t get numb and tingly from a pillow that’s too puffy, causing hyperflexion of my cervical vertebrae.
Never assume what the patient’s feeling.
I have flashbacks from the days I thought I was an efficient nurse—I dread having someone, someday, assume that I am just frightened in their attempts to keep me on a turning schedule to prevent pressure ulcers. […]