Last night, I had a rough time of it at work. One of my younger patients had a very overprotective and overtired parent who chose my conversational moment with him to unleash his frustration. Yelled at me enough that I think I feigned calm for all of ten seconds until I could get out of his way, then ran into the bathroom and totally burst into tears. I have never grown that ability to shake things off like most of my coworkers have, the ability to not only not take moments like that personally, but to stay in the moment and turn it around to something lovely and positive. To add insult to injury, when the morning came, I had to tell the day nurse, back for another day with this patient and family, why the patient was no longer my patient: I'd had to switch with another night nurse who was more familiar with the patient and with whom the family was much more comfortable. I am telling this story with no small amount of wound-licking: I did all that I could and sweat bullets over this patient for the first few hours of my shift, and it was thrown back into my face like I didn't care. Right after recounting the story, I look over into the patient's room - and there is the parent. I know that there is quite a bit of whirring and buzzing and whooshing in patients' rooms already from all the various machines we use, and there are so many loud conversations going on at the nurse's station anyway, but I was still afraid he'd heard me, and now had yet more fuel for his fire. Ugh.
And sometimes, after yet another night of locking myself in the bathroom and crying my eyes out because of something that happened to me during my shift, I wonder if I've made the right choice. In a way, I can't even allow myself to think that, after all the hard work and BST (blood, sweat, tears) it took for me to get my nursing degree, as well as all the loans I've borrowed and the looming bills ahead. But I still wonder. A hermit's life looks so much more appealing after nights like these, when all hell breaks loose and you haven't even been at work for a full hour of the twelve you will work. I have prayed and tried and begged for years for a tougher skin, a more calloused set of emotions, and that just ain't happenin', folks. I will always be what my mom once termed "hypersensitive", which is terrific if you are a poet or some other reclusive type of artist, but not so great when you deal with injured people and their relatives, day in and day out. So many of my patients (and their families) are really wonderful and appreciative of the job I do, and I am grateful for them. Not ten minutes after I had made it out of the bathroom with red-rimmed eyes did another patient tell me how wonderful it was to have me as his nurse for the past several nights... and it almost made me cry again in gratitude. It's just the ones who think you don't care or didn't just spend the last hour practically neglecting your other, more stable patients to help their family member who become like a nasty scar you will never lose.
I'm sorry this post sounds like such a massively negative pity party. It is, really. I promise to come back soon with some more positive postings when I don't feel like burying my head in my pillow and crying.
4 comments:
Dear Anne:
Rejection is never fun to take, and I know it is extra difficult for you because you care so much and you are a sensitive person.
But here is something to think about (humble thoughts) from someone who gets plenty of negative comments as a middle school teacher from some people I try to help.
First, did you think of all the people you helped today that said "thank you" or even didn't say anything at all? Ever hear the words "No words are (actually) good words"? Well, most people who appreciate your work don't say anything! I can't tell you how many times I have shopped at a certain grocery store, the people are nice and very helpful, and I say nothing. But I go to one business that I have a bad experience about and I rant about it for days. Sound familiar?
No news is good news Anne. It means all the other patients are glad that you are there.
Now, on with the story. Second, why is it that we remember negative experiences (though rare) at our jobs more than the good ones? For the same reason we hand a bad tasting cookie or a bad smelling something to our friend/spouse/parent and go "Eww! This is awful. (Give it to them). Isn't that awful?!" Misery loves company.
Just like that friend who complains about how little money they have/gas is unaffordable/I hate my job and they never do anything about it. They are complacent. TIME to stop listening to complacent people!
My point. You must make an active effort to recognize the good that you do and when someone goes "Well done!" or "Thank you" or smiles because you are there, RECOGNIZE IT AND RECORD IT IN YOUR CONSCIENCE.
I am reprogramming myself to focus on the positive comments I may receive or the fact that most of my students learn something and pass my class. Sounds dippy but it makes a big difference in your life. It also makes the complainers less of an influence on your life, and all the good we do much more influential.
Last point. Somewhere along the way, so many of us equated "not being humble Christians" to "not recognizing praise given by someone to us". Not true. Being a humble Christian means that we remember that all things we do come through God's love and His enabling us to do these things. But most of all, we remember that we don't boast to everyone about how "superior" we may think we are. As long as you follow those two, you can recognize all the praise you receive inside yourself all that you want!
I guess a good job in a hospital trauma ward is not always hearing someone go "my saving grace!" but that person getting well and knowing you were part of that recovery. Not like a crowd applauding you after an awesome musical performance (which you do all the time by the way), but just as important.
Sometimes, no news is actually very "good news."
Believe in yourself. Just like my first couple of years teaching, it will get better and it does. And you get even better too.
From my tirade column of advice, feel free to embrace it or leave it as it is.
Don
I always called you "tender-hearted" and knew from the time you were about three years old that you would make a great nurse--for that very reason. I believe that even more so now. Some people release their fears through anger and some by putting on a hard shell or becoming emotionally numb. A few lucky ones will feel it deep in their heart and let it out so that God can begin to heal it. You my dear daughter fall into that last group of people.
Just about to fall asleep and realized I left out a couple of key words. When people have fear OR HURT, they...... Sorry you've had such a rough week!! You'll have much to focus your tenderness on in the months to come...your precious little boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I can totally identify with you here! Teaching has a lot of similar moments. I've always cried over these same things and so all I can say is maybe you can eventually change to nursing in a different situation. Private lesson teaching is much better for me than teaching in public schools. I'll be prayin for you, but I would never think that you were in the wrong place. Maybe you should try singing instead of crying... stand there and put on a show in the patient's room... they'll be so confused that they'll leave you alone... you can threaten... don't make me give you a high "C"... or, "if you don't calm down, I'll be forced to sing Wagner... oh, and I know me some Wagner"
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