The ‘Clog Kick’: In Trying Times, Adapting to the Loss of a Palliative Care Team’s Essential Rituals

Palliative care, under optimal circumstances.

I work as a palliative care NP on an inpatient consult team at an academic medical center in Massachusetts. In the best of times, palliative care teams are exemplars of interdisciplinary functioning. According to nationally accepted consensus reports, since palliative care is holistic in nature, it must be administered by a team that can address the multidimensional elements of suffering for both patients and families in the setting of serious or life-limiting illness.

In my experiences on two interdisciplinary palliative care teams, we were damn strong together. We met each morning to divvy up the workload; around the crowded table were NPs, physicians, chaplains, social workers, sometimes a pharmacist or a librarian, and a bevy of rotating students of all disciplines. On the table was often food: from someone’s garden, our own kitchens, or the grocery store bakery.

A ‘thread of lightheartedness’ amidst the heaviness.

The work was seemingly endless (as many people as there were around the table, there were scores more patient consults), and the situations were heavy and complex. We took our work seriously because the situations we waded into day after day were often worst-case scenarios for our patients and their families.

But there was also a thread of lightheartedness that ran through the days and weeks. We prioritized team and clinician wellness, and often laughter was the centerpiece of the table. We strategized together, cried and fretted about our patients, roared or seared in frustration, and yes, we watched funny cat videos to keep the […]

2021-02-23T17:02:36-05:00February 18th, 2021|COVID-19, Nursing|0 Comments

Decreasing ED-Acquired Pressure Injuries

Perfect candidates for developing pressure injuries.

The photos of EDs crowded with patients waiting for admission at the height of the COVID-19 surges brought back many memories of clinical days in Bellevue’s ED. But even on our worst evenings, it was never like what I saw in those photos in the news media. And in some places, the ED hallways still have lines of stretchers with patients waiting to be sent to units.

In busy hospitals, patients can wait hours, sometimes a full day, on stretchers in the ED, waiting to be sent to a patient care unit. And we know that if they are being admitted for inpatient care, they usually have complex medical needs—many of these patients may be unable to ask for help, be incontinent, or unable to move themselves. These patients are perfect candidates for developing pressure injuries (PIs).

PIs can develop in a matter of hours.

As an article in the February issue of AJN notes, pressure injuries can develop in a relatively short time (the authors cite studies that found hospital-acquired PIs can “occur in as little as two hours of unrelieved pressure”).

The article, “Pressure Injury Prevention in Patients with Prolonged ED Stays Prior to Admission,” details how a nurse-led evidence-based practice (EBP) team sought to decrease hospital-acquired […]

The Emergence of Sacred Space and Time in Hospice Care

I knew he was close. His breathing had changed, but I also knew it could be hours. It was 4:30 on a Friday afternoon and I was ready to be done with my week. The apartment was full of friends and family, full of an energy that was neither nervous nor productive. It felt like the buzz of being. The man’s wife and daughter were in the bedroom with him.

In the February issue Reflections essay, “The Car Ride Home,” author Paige Fletcher movingly evokes an episode from her experience as a hospice nurse. This one-page essay, which will be free until the end of February, is written with unusual clarity and restraint and is well worth the five or 10 minutes it takes to read it.

Fletcher writes convincingly of a sense of sacred space and time that can emerge as a life ends in a supportive home hospice setting. And she describes her […]

2021-02-16T15:30:52-05:00February 12th, 2021|Nursing|0 Comments

The First Injection

A nursing professor, now administering Covid-19 vaccinations as a volunteer, looks back on her 40 years of giving injections. The first one was the hardest. 

‘I could have easily given up that day.’

I reviewed the chart the night before—“40 units of NPH insulin subcutaneous before breakfast”—then went home to practice the technique. With a tiny needle and a small volume of medication. I used an orange to simulate the skin and gain confidence in how to puncture the skin and push the plunger to inject the medication.

As I entered the ward with my fellow classmates the next morning, I felt prepared to give my very first injection. I removed the insulin from the refrigerator and began to warm the vial between my fingers. I carefully selected the 100 unit insulin syringe. As I slowly drew up the dose, nervously flicking the air bubble out of the top of the syringe, my clinical instructor watched from the side.

Before we went into the room I checked the record for site rotation—right side of belly. I swallowed hard. We knocked and entered the room, introducing ourselves and our plans for the patient’s morning insulin. The older man lying in bed nodded approvingly. When I pulled up his gown and searched the right side of his belly, I began to have doubts. I hadn’t practiced an injection in the belly and the man’s skin was dry and wrinkled—nothing like the smooth skin of the orange I’d used the night before.

I swabbed the area with the […]

2021-03-12T15:19:08-05:00February 10th, 2021|Nursing|2 Comments

Who’s Going to Smile at My Baby? When the Pandemic Comes to the NICU

From the doorway, I watched the mother gently stroke her newborn’s forehead. “I love you,” she whispered. “I’ll be back soon.”

As a resource parent in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) at a large children’s hospital, I am privileged with the task of offering support to families. This was a typical stop in one of many patient rooms. As I gingerly entered the room, the mother glanced up at me, tears welling in her eyes as she scrambled to adjust her mask.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t want to cry.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Not at all,” I replied. “I understand. It’s hard being a mom in the NICU, now more than ever.”

I invited her to share her feelings, hoping to offer some help or comfort. Wiping her cheek with her sleeve, she explained that the pandemic visiting rules had made it difficult to be at her baby’s bedside.

“I have other children, and I need to go home to watch them. The hospital rules say I am the only person allowed to take off their mask in her room, but she needs to see faces for her development. Who is going to smile at my baby when I’m not here?”

Speaking from personal experience.

2021-02-08T09:43:44-05:00February 8th, 2021|family experience, Nursing, Patients, pediatrics|0 Comments
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