Vignettes

I have come to realize in my nursing practice that the shortest moments with a patient are often the things that require the most reflection. The shortest phrases seem to capture entirely the essence of a situation.

I often tell people the reason I went into nursing was the fact that it was a people-oriented field. While this is certainly true, I have witnessed myself change in response to the environment of the Emergency Department. The complaints are often so exaggerated or elusive that it undermines how a nurse interacts and judges patients. It is in these small moments, or vignettes, that I have found myself realizing the intelligence, honesty, and sense of humor in patients. After all, the ED primarily sees people who are usually quite normal people, they just happened to "feel weird" after THC exposure.

And what a wonderful position to be able to see a such a large cross-section of society. It is truly a people-watcher's dream. Not only can we watch a person, but we find out the most intimate details: major surgeries, favorite Dog the Bounty Hunter episode, bowel & bladder habits, even sexual history. The problem is that frequently this gets condensed to "a 78-year old female with complaints of chest pain".

I hope to recapture some of the dignity of the wonderful people I have met, and share their stories. (Names have been changed, re:HIPAA)

- Melanie was an unusual patient with atrial fibrillation, but this wasn't new for her as she was over 6 feet tall, with legs jutting out from the end of the bed. She came to the ED with her husband, who at just over 5'8" made the couple seem all the more disjointed. As the care for his wife grew more acute, he seemed not to notice, absorbed in his laptop. But this wasn't due to disinterest, rather he possessed a loving aura, gently recounting her past medical history and filling in Melanie's gaps in stories. I was completely stuck by the simple comfort they had in each others presence, and quiet confidence.

When I asked her about whether she played sports, she commented that she always loved playing with the boys and how in high school she dated the kicker for the football team. He had all the glory of being on the team, even though she could kick the ball farther. Her even-handed confidence was absolutely awesome to behold. She told a story of being tackled particularly hard during a pick-up game. She was on her period and blood got all over the place. The boys were worried that they had really hurt her, but once she got them calmed down she simply said, "Now, you boys with sisters explain it to the naive ones, while I go change."

And the stories never stopped, she was like a ball of string. As the time passed, she slowly unwound a lifetime of stories. Never for the purpose of boasting or bragging, but simply to fill the silences while I started an IV, or took her vital signs.

As I learned more about the relationship with her husband I couldn't help but guess the number of people who have tried to achieve the love that they had for one another. A love so pure, and mature that even the prospect of being put to sleep and being shocked (cardioverted) only garnered a simple kiss and "I'll see you soon, love."