When I stepped into the entryway, I was met by a group of men, crouched on the floor over a game of craps and shouting excitedly. One of them stood up when he saw me come through the door . . . He dropped the dice, pulled a gun from his waist, and pointed it at my face.
Workplace violence prevention training has become the latest mandatory education module in many hospitals. But what about nurses who work in non-hospital settings? In this month’s Viewpoint, “Workplace Violence Outside the Hospital Setting,” NP and visiting nurse Joanne Schmidt describes the terrifying situation she walked into one day at the start of her morning home visits.
In many community settings, no cameras or security staff.
Schmidt points out that nurses who work in home care, mobile medical vans, school clinics, and other community-based settings may be considerably less safe every single day than those of us who work in relatively protected hospital environments. At least in acute care there are cameras and security staff!
Schmidt argues that we have a blind spot when talking about violence against nurses:
Violence toward nurses has often been misrepresented or accepted by administrators and even other nurses as ‘just a part of the job’ . . . . Who is responsible for protecting us? Careful consideration must be taken in protecting nurses, including recognition that a ‘workplace’ does not equal four walls or a secure building.
To learn how Schmidt’s own incident ended, read the article in our February issue. Viewpoints are free to access.
I’ve told this story many times. A yung nurse, I was going to see a patient in a high-rise in a high-crime area. The lobby was full of broken furniture and trash, grafitti all over every surface. I got into the elevator and punched in the ninth floor. Then I saw there were three very large and scary-looking dudes in the elevator, and I sorta held my breath as they looked me over. The elevator rose, creaking. A voice spoke, deep and slow.
“You da nurse?”
“Yes I am,” said I, keeping my voice steady. A moment of silence.
“Nurse helped my momma once.” Long pause. “You have a nice day.” Elevator dinged, the door opened; the cab was as still and quiet as the tomb, and the door closed behind me as I stepped into the hallway.