When Nurse-Patient Boundaries Blur, in Fact or Fiction

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular contributor to this blog. Her essay, “The Love Song of Frank,” was published in the May (2012) issue of AJN. She currently has an essay appearing in The Examined Life Journal.

Courtesy of the author Courtesy of the author

Professional boundaries, as defined by the National Council of State Boards of Nursing (NCSBN), are “the spaces between the nurse’s power and the patient’s vulnerability.” The NCSBN describes the nurse–patient relationship as a continuum, with “too little care provider involvement” at one end and “too much care provider involvement” on the other.

The ideal therapeutic nurse–patient relationship lies in the middle, with “no definite lines separating the zone of helpfulness from the ends of the continuum.” I don’t love the indeterminate nature of that definition, but I understand it.

Some time ago, I was surprised by a friendship that developed between a patient and me. It was an unusual circumstance, in that the patient was in the ICU for a very long time for chronic problems that didn’t affect his mental capacity. I was his nurse many times, and through idle chatter during routine care we discovered not only a shared appreciation of literature in general, but a fondness for many of the same authors and books. I started thinking of books I’d bring him, hoping to augment the tedium of his hospital stay. At some point, I started thinking […]

Unanticipated Codes

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular contributor to this blog. Her essay, “The Love Song of Frank,” was published in the May (2012) issue of AJN. She currently has an essay appearing in The Examined Life Journal.

Code cart/courtesy of author Code cart/courtesy of author

My mentor once told me that there are almost never unanticipated cardiac arrests in the ICU. I’ve found this to be true. Certain indicators, like laboratory abnormalities or particular cardiac rhythms, can foretell a Code, and sometimes subtle signs trigger an instinctual foreboding that I’ve learned never to ignore.

The conviction that a Code Blue can be anticipated provides a sense of security; if the arrest is anticipated, then it may be preventable. And when it’s inevitable, at least anticipation allows for preparation. I strongly believe this. And yet this weekend my patient coded and I was caught completely off guard.

I had just remarked to one of my colleagues that my petite, elderly Chinese patient (some identifying details have been changed) was looking so much better than she had when I’d admitted her earlier that day from the floor—she’d been in respiratory distress, in a hypertensive crisis, and in need of immediate dialysis. All of the various specialty consultants had seen her and collaborated and I’d had the thought that Ms. M’s day would end very well, that it would be one of those nursing shifts where I’d see a metamorphosis […]

What Can’t Be Taught in Nursing School

JanuaryReflectionsBy Jacob Molyneux, senior editor

The January Reflections essay in AJN, “A Special Kind of Knowledge,” is a revised excerpt from a forthcoming book, Crossing the River Sorrow, One Nurse’s Story, by Janet L. Richards. (The book will be published in June by Vantage Press.) In the essay, the author remembers an encounter she had several decades ago as a nursing student caring for a newly paralyzed young woman. Here’s a paragraph from near the start:

I stood by Carrie during those first harrowing hours in the ICU as she awaited surgery, everyone still hoping for the best. As a brand-new student, I was a silent observer, unsure of how to participate. Her young husband also watched, slumped against the heater under the window at his wife’s bedside. His eyes blazed, wild with fear and disbelief as he struggled to make sense of his sudden immersion into the alien world of disability. I could identify. Pressure sores, urinary catheters, bowel programs, and spasms—these were now part of my new and ever-expanding medical vocabulary. A spinal cord severed at C6 meant life as a quadriplegic. Suddenly this book knowledge seemed all too real.

And here’s a few lines from near the end, to give a sense of the crucial insight the author gained as she struggled to bridge the gap between herself, her patient, and the patient’s husband:

Pain can be palpable as it moves across the space between two people, molten, […]

The Depression Project

By Marcy Phipps, RN, a regular contributor to this blog. Her essay, “The Love Song of Frank,” was published in the May (2012 issue) of AJN. She currently has an essay appearing in The Examined Life Journal.

Wikimedia Commons Wikimedia Commons

Lately, as a long-time runner, I can’t help but draw parallels between working on a nursing research project and training for a distance race set far in the future. Especially in the middle of a long run, when frazzled edges smooth out and clarity settles over me, the similarities between the two are striking. Both require inspiration and a goal, fluid planning and accommodation for the unexpected, and patience.

I casually refer to the nursing research project I’m involved in as “The Depression Project.” It was borne of concern among the ICU nurses about the mental states of the trauma patients in our unit. As the bedside care providers, we often come to know our patients very well; we don’t just care for these people, we sincerely care, and so we’re troubled when we observe, time and again, trauma patients who seem to lose the motivation to engage in their recoveries. They become flat and despondent; they lose hope.

It’s clear to the nurses that while the physical injuries sustained present enormous challenges, the emotional toll is sometimes just as debilitating—yet underestimated. And so we devised a study to illustrate the correlation of depression and recovery.

It’s […]

Can’t Even Think About It: An ICU Nurse’s Personal Taboo

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.

The weekend was busy in the ICU; several critically ill trauma patients were admitted in quick succession and the unit was filled with grieving families. The air was heavy with tragedy and misery, and it was draining to work under such weight.

I had a single day off, which didn’t feel like enough, and when I returned to work there were new patients in the beds and the mood in the unit had drastically changed. Disarming, but not surprising; the ICU is always the same and yet different.

One of the young patients from the weekend had become an organ donor, which had been anticipated and was considered a positive outcome, relatively. In discussing the weekend events and the ways in which things had resolved, one of my colleagues mentioned that, if given the opportunity, she’d embrace the chance to go to the operating room with the organ procurement team. Her beloved niece had been an organ donor and she sees organ donation as a validation and continuance of life, an ultimate example of “paying it forward.” She takes great comfort in knowing that her niece did not die in vain; lives were saved. She’d like to see, firsthand, the workings of the surgical team as they extract the organs.

“I would never do that,” […]

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