Defiant Nurse Saved My Sanity with ‘Old-School’ Approach

Kellie McRae avatar

by Kellie McRae |

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I sometimes think the old-school way is the best-school way. I want the technology, research and all that comes with making progress with lupus treatments. However, when you are dealing with medical professionals, a little old-school goes a long way.

Doctors with great bedside manners seem to be fleeting in today’s hospital and medical centers. It seems as if it’s more of a co-pay-churn-them-in-and-out type care. Recently, I spent a week in the hospital where the doctors come in once a day to poke, prod and ask all the pertinent questions. I will say that my medical team does have a great way of making sure all of my questions and concerns are answered. But, in my opinion, they are still a bit overly cautious on some things.

Imagine my surprise when I got an interesting and defiant nurse.

Here’s the skinny. Every doctor that came into my room, came with his or her own nurses. My cardiologist had two nurses, one was maybe in her 30s and the other was well into her 60s (she’d seen some things in her time on the ward). I suppose she never wanted to undermine the doctor while he was standing there, but she would leave the room with him, and return by herself a few minutes later.

Each day she would do this and it made me smile. I was admitted for a host of swollen organs. My platelet count was so low I was relegated to full bed rest. They even had me tethered to the fluid bag and oxygen by hoses that only allowed me to go a foot to the mobile commode. I felt like those prisoners who drag around balls and chains.

One day the doctor said, “You need to do PT for the muscles.” He wanted me to come to the hospital every day. A few minutes later, the nurse comes in solo and says, “You do yoga, it will be good for you.” I say, “I was thinking of water aerobics. The nurse replied, “No, to restore those muscles, go to yoga.”

The next day they took me off of the fluids and I ended up in the hallway. Well, I guess this was not what they expected, since I was to be on full bed rest. They found a reason to tether me again. When he came in, the nurses on the floor had told on me and he explained why I needed to stay close to the bed. I managed to get myself to the hospital without spontaneously bleeding, but I decided to comply. The doctor leaves, and a few minutes later the nurse returns. She shows me how to unhook myself from the fluid and tells me to move around. She said that moving around will prevent blood clots, but not to leave the room. All I could think was, “This woman is keeping me sane, and I don’t know who she is, but I love her!”

A day before I was released, the doctor came in to tell me why they were not ready for me to go home. I didn’t care, I was starting to wonder why I was fighting so hard to live. Every time the nurses came in to give me a sponge bath, I felt older, more feeble and I just wanted to die. I told him that I promised to be careful, but I wanted to go home. He said we would discuss it the next day.

Again, here came the nurse, and she asked me how I was feeling. I told her I would cry after they would leave from the bath. And how going to the bathroom in the middle of the room, and having the food service guy walk in while I was doing my business just hurt my heart. She said, “A happy heart is part of the healing process, and if you are ready to go home, insist — they will let you.”

She was right, my numbers weren’t where they should have been, but they were better than where they started, so they sent me home.

Some might say she was out of order, but this little defiant nurse was my sanity. Old-school isn’t always so bad in healthcare. I wish they could do a fusion, and give us good bedside manner, with cutting-edge technology and research. That would be my wish for the world of chronic illness patients.

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