I was absolutely terrified to begin my journey as a Registered Nurse. Would I make it? Would I get through the day without killing someone; without making a complete fool of myself in front of a doctor or patient? You hear all of these horror stories about nurses eating their young. Would I experience that firsthand? Would I be a part of the dreaded first year burnout?
My experience has been quite the opposite. The staff that I have encountered has been nothing but supportive. I didn’t realize how much I would be able to relate to patients and their families. My father has been diagnosed with a genetic neurodegenerative disease, (Huntington’s Disease) and over the past few years, my family has had to make some adjustments. Adjustments that I didn’t realize would make me a better nurse.
“Today, someone will have the absolute best day of their life. On the other hand, someone will have the absolute worst day of their life.” That is what I tell myself at the beginning of every shift. As a nurse, it is my job to recognize this. If I can just make one small difference in a person’s life, I have succeeded. Whether it is holding the hand of a declining patient, or celebrating the progress of a stroke patient whose deficits are resolving.
The other day at work, I had a really tough day. I questioned my abilities as a nurse. I wondered if I would ever survive this profession. Through all of the networking that I did as a student nurse, I was told time and time again by my mentors that there would be days that I would feel like the walls were caving in on me. I hate to admit it, but they were absolutely correct.
The brain, although extremely fascinating, can completely change a person’s life if not functioning properly. Working on a Neuro/Spine unit, I have learned that brain bleeds can be detrimental to a family; to a person’s level of functioning, some more devastating than others.
The other day, I was challenged. Physically, mentally, emotionally. The most challenging part was watching a wife of 20+ years beg for her husband’s well-being after a hemorrhagic stroke. It really made me think. How can I change the way this woman grieves? How can I make a difference?
The woman and I had several conversations throughout my shift, but one specifically made a difference. I dug deep and explained that I could relate in many ways. Although I am a medical professional, I too have experienced the loss of a loved one, neurologically speaking. I was able to speak from personal experience and hold this woman’s hand while she cried over the loss of her husband as she has always known him. Although alive, this patient would never be the same.
At this moment, I remembered why I got into this profession in the first place. I was able to educate, facilitate healing, grieve, and be present for someone who was having the worst day of their life.
I am not sure if this woman will remember me years, or even months from now. What I do know, is that she felt comfort that day knowing that she wasn’t alone. There are many skills and technical aspects of nursing, but what is most important is having compassion.
Each day, my decision to pursue a career in nursing is justified. I know that I have chosen a profession that fulfills my every desire to advocate, comfort, critically think, heal, and educate others.
Nick Greathouse, RN
