Back in the day, nurses will tell you, if a doctor came into a room and no chair was available for him, a nurse would have to give up her seat. Those days are long gone, but for a long time, nurses didn't have a guaranteed seat at the health care policy table—until now.
Theresa's new column in the American Journal of Nursing is available online for subscribers.
Sometimes it’s the doctors, not the families, who can’t let a patient go.
A lot of nurses hate the Showtime series “Nurse Jackie,” which will wrap up its sixth season on Sunday evening. Actually, to be precise, they hate the show’s lead character, the emergency department nurse Jackie Peyton. There’s much to dislike: She is an adulterer, a liar, an unreliable mother and, most significantly, addicted to prescription painkillers. (That’s hardly giving anything away, but be warned: spoilers ahead.)
“What if we gave her some aloe vera gel?”
The question was from a thin woman, and though her query came out of desperation, her face was pinched with fury. She was a relative of the patient in the room, a young woman who was dying of an infection.
A classic “Far Side” cartoon shows a man talking forcefully to his dog. The man says: “Okay, Ginger! I’ve had it! You stay out of the garbage!” But the dog hears only: “Blah blah Ginger blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah Ginger …”
As a nurse, I often worry that patients’ comprehension of doctors and nurses is equally limited — except what the patient hears from us is: “Blah blah blah Heart Attack blah blah blah Cancer.
My patient was shaking uncontrollably. People say such shaking feels unbelievably bad, but rigoring, as the medical profession calls it, is treatable with the narcotic Demerol. I hurried to the computer to order some from the pharmacy, thinking “rigors = Demerol.”