Category Archives: physician

I’ve said it before …

and I’ll say it again.  I am much too soft-hearted to be a  nurse.  So many things that I come into contact with on a daily basis makes me want to weep and scream at the injustice of life.

I am supposed to simply speak to people and let them know that they are not just a patient, but it isn’t  that simple.  They are people to me.

They are my mother.

They are my father.

They are my daughter, nieces and sister.

They become part of my heart and being and I take them home with me.

I have cried many, many tears for those that I visit with.  I have held their hands, held their family’s hands and prayed with them.  I try to leave them where they are, but they won’t stay there.

They come home with me.  I think about them and hope that they will live until morning; hope that if they don’t, their sons, daughters, mothers and fathers will be able to cope with loss of their existence.

I want to be strong.  I will myself to be stoic and unattached, but that lasts as long as the mist under a strong morning sunrise.  I love these people.  I fall in love with their families and I feel the pain, sorrow and devastation of their loss on every front.

The older I get, the more squeamish, melancholic and dramatic I become.  I surely thought that I would be stronger and more able to control my emotions at this point, but the truth is that I am more susceptible to emotion and empathy than I ever thought possible.

Sometimes, things happen that are funny and yet, the humor battles sorrow for there is nothing beautiful or funny about someone who doesn’t know who they are or where they are or what they have accomplished in their lives.  The emptiness is devastating.  I find myself bringing people home with me in my thoughts and crying over their infirmities.

I never wanted to be a nurse.  I wanted to be a photographer.  I wonder sometimes if I don’t make a better nurse than a photographer.  And then I realize that I can be both.

One makes me a better of the other.

I photograph for the sheer pleasure of it and  yet, when photographs are forbidden, I see past what is present.  I am thankful, on many levels, for the blessings bestowed upon me.

I am a nurse.

I am a photographer.

I am myself.

I am content.

What more can anyone ask than to be content in the life they are living.

I am, above all things, thankful, for the joys, the trials, the triumphs and the the lessons.  Thankful for the things that hurt me and those that bring me joy.

One without the other is insubstantial; combined, they are powerful beyond the description of words.

I. Am. Blessed.

And I am thankful.  The images, whether in real time or captured on film are what life is about.  Life is images and images make up life.

Again I say, I. Am. Blessed.

Bodie Island Lighthouse (my OBX favorite)bodieislandlighthouse

Matt … a truly beautiful human … hatteras_lightning-59

.

A doe at Bodie Island hatteras_lightning-71

Beach Beauties … outerbanks_day1-327

What on Earth …

happened to your face?  I can see the question in their eyes even as they cast quick and surreptitious glances in my direction.  But they never actually ask it.  They simply stare, amazed at the disfigurement and damage on someone’s face.  The face.  The first thing, unless you’re a pervert, that one notices.  It is either the eyes, the mouth, the shape of the chin.  It is human nature to see and analyze a face in mere moments.  There is an immediate response that says good, bad, friendly, sweet, ugly, beautiful, distrustful, untrustworthy, hot, homely, dirty, weird, sneaky, seeking, loving, sad, angry, hurt, happy, joyful and a myriad of others.  There is no point in denying that I have done the same; wanted to know what had happened to cause something, some disfigurement, but was too afraid to ask.  Afraid of all manner of things; confrontation, ignominy, silence, isolation.  But no more will I be afraid to ask because in this place of disfigurement-induced  insecurity I speak of, I have recently visited.

Three days ago, I was walking from my house to my parents’ house (they weren’t there, but my sister and brother were.  My brother is my sister’s husband.  I don’t have a blood brother, but if I did, he would be just like Chris.  But I digress).  I didn’t realize as I was “gawking along” ( as Granny Minton would say), that my sister’s Bassett pups were around.  I would most definitely have paid more attention.  What happened is this; I tripped over one of the pups and,  as it befell so fast and not having adequate time to throw arms out to brace my fall, fell, face first onto the gravel driveway. (the pup, by the way, was unharmed)

I was certain, as I immediately began to feel the blood pour (and knew that if I saw it, I would faint dead away), that my nose was broken and likely some teeth were missing.  I went into the house and freaked my sister and brother out.  I was a mess and I was very afraid that I was going to be sick just thinking about it.  Funnily enough, after I rinsed with water, the nurse in me took over.  I knew when I looked at the gash between my eyes that it needed stitches, but I, being as nurses are (stubborn and self-sufficient to a fault), thought I could just throw some Steri-Strips on there and be good.  Luckily for me, I couldn’t find my stash and my sister, bless her soul, drove me to the ER.  Five stitches and close to a third of the skin on my face in a clean line from mid-forehead to chin later, I am wondering what the heck happened and know, without doubt, that God protected me from more serious injury. I know with absolute certainty that it could have been much, much worse.

A few people did ask and I was relieved to know that there were people who look at my face and wonder what happened; then ask.  It usually brought a bit of sympathy with a dash of humor.  I don’t hold it against the pup.  She was just doing what she does.  But the next time I want to know what happened to somebody, I’m going to ask them.  The worst they can do is tell me to mind my own.  I don’t want to be only a bystander.  I want to be a part of the humor, the pain, the embarrassment, the insecurity and in the midst of all that, I hope to be, on some small scale, an encouragement.

When you curse at your nurse …

be prepared for the consequences. This isn’t about photography or trail shoots, but about life and the small world of medicine that we live and work in.  It’s no secret who has the doc’s ear, who is able to plead the case of patients and try to maneuver things so that everybody wins.  It’s no secret who holds the keys to the daily schedule and can give the ok for an emergency overbooking or manipulation of said schedule to accommodate someone with a need.  It is also no secret that the doc will, most times, back up their nurse and take their side in the event of conflict.  That being said, there are few things that people should know:

The nurse sees you before the doctor so whatever you tell us, we will relay.  It doesn’t matter what the circumstances are, the nurse is the go-between.  When someone calls into the office to speak directly with doctor, it is the nurse who talks to them and relays the information and works to see that all needs are met.  The nurses are the ones who work diligently to see that medications are approved by insurance, that specialist visits are scheduled, that vaccines are given and medications are refilled to the pharmacy.  It is the nurse who will call after a couple of days to make sure the problem is resolving and that no further action is required.  The nurse, again, who will help put folks at ease during procedures or counsel them on things that may otherwise be confusing or daunting.  (sometimes physicians speak a language that sounds very little like English and quite a bit  like Klingon)

The nurse will ensure that you get what you need from your visit and smile and make you feel as though you are the only patient on their agenda that day (at least a good nurse will).  They will go above and beyond to meet the needs of their patients and are willing to go an extra mile to make the patient feel as though their particular needs are important.  They give out stickers, suckers, school excuses, work excuses and a wide variety of things that are needed but things the physician knows nothing about because their job is to treat.  A nurses’ job is to nurture and show compassion, empathy, sympathy and love, to be a listening ear and a caring heart when one is needed.

Now that all of this information has been processed, there is one additional thing that needs to be taken into consideration.  If a patient mistreats by cursing, attempting to strike or being otherwise verbally abusive to their nurse, there is only one thing they need to remember; without the nurse to run interference, they are on their own.  If the nurse isn’t on their side, they don’t have a prayer because as the first paragraph of this blog says, the nurse has the doctor’s ear.  Might be good to remember that.   When someone is mean, hateful and abusive to their nurse to the point that the nurse cries, that someone is screwed.  So whatever it is that an abusive patient wants or needs,  they need not bother asking the nurse but instead, take it up with the doc and see, at that point, just how far they get.

I dedicate this post to nurses everywhere. Stay strong, keep your cool and be encouraged.  Don’t let the bad apples ruin your day because bad apples are as much a part of medicine as flu shots.  Today, for me, was full of bad apples but tomorrow is a brand new day and I plan on taking my apple corer with me in the future.