I Need You

A nurse cares and desires at the deepest level for his or her patient to feel that sincere intention and, as a result, feel better as a result of all their effort. Nursing is hard. More often than not a nurse hears complaints about what hasn’t been done as opposed to what he or she worked so hard to accomplish on behalf of the patient.

The last few weeks have been busy. Busy is the nature of the ED, but busy with extremely high acuity that places any patient not intubated and/or on a presser or sedative a bit lower on the totem pole. Not on purpose, but by the very nature of prioritization of care. It is these days that can be the most trying. I run from patient to patient and delegate out tasks when I can’t be in two places at once, and then realize that the patient who has been in my care for the last three hours hasn’t seen me in two hours, because my coworkers have been helping me out while I was stuck in my ICU patient’s room. While this is the beauty of teamwork, there is a piece of me that sometimes feels as though I’ve failed that patient by not being present for their every need. Do they think I don’t like them? Do they feel neglected?

I return to check in, always apologizing for the time delay, and take a seat as I explain the latest updates and plan of care. The patient usually understands as they can hear the ambulances rolling in and have watched the nurses rush past the room back and forth for the last several hours.

In the midst of one of these days I cared for a sweet elderly woman who was mostly French speaking, though she spoke enough English to communicate her needs. She had a history of brain injury which resulted in some short-term memory loss. She was so patient and humbly accepted care for all her needs. When she first rolled in I smiled and spoke to her like I speak to all my patients. A patient who doesn’t speak your language still understands the language of your touch, tone, and feeling in your eyes. I gained her trust with a smile and she felt my sincere desire to meet her needs.

This patient was on her call light multiple times an hour, and it was one of those days where my coworkers graciously jumped in to help answer her light while I was in with other patients. Although each time another nurse walked in she asked where I was and wanted me. Upon hearing the news I was touched that she trusted me with her care, but a little frustrated since I was unable to be in her room as much as she called.

Upon entering her room I remembered that she could read my emotions more than my words. I took a breath and smiled. “What do you need?” I asked.

“You,” she stated.

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” I leaned down to look her in the eyes.

“You. Right here,” she gestured to the chair next to her bed. “Sit here.”

I realized what she was asking. She wanted company, someone to sit there with her while she waited...

I took her hand and explained in the simplest terms that I had to care for other patients too and was not able to sit there.

“Oh. I will wait,” she said her face slightly falling.

It broke my heart not to be able to give her what she felt she needed in that moment. She just needed someone’s presence. I gave her all the time I could, made sure she was comfortable, and then smiled, assuring her I would be back to check on her.

As nurses we like to be superheroes and meet everyone’s needs at all times, and I struggle when I feel I have fallen short and not met everyone's expectations. It is not always possible and at the end of the day as long as I have given my best in every care and taken care to make my interactions intentional with my patients, I have to feel ok hanging up my scrubs for the day and recognizing that I am not superwoman. 

My best is all I can give in a day. Tomorrow will be a new day with new patients and experiences, and I need to arrive, once again, ready to give it all I’ve got...whatever my 100% is for that day.