Sorting through the mess of accumulated crap residing in my basement, I recently stumbled across a long forgotten article that was given to me in my orientation packet when I started my current job. My first “real job” as a registered nurse. The article was about the reality shock that new grads go through in their first year out of nursing school and how it follows the same pattern of grieving, and in many ways I think I’m starting to agree with that based on my own experiences. My first year as a nurse is about 75% over, as it is March and I will have been with my employer for a year as of June 23. And let me tell you, the crazy roller coaster ride that began with the stress-packed interviews and the near 7 month long orientation process has not slowed down since completing my perioperative internship program in January. I’ve been on my own as a full-fledged (or fledgling) nurse for two months now and I realize more everyday how much more I have to grow and figure out.
One of the biggest changes about being on my own is, naturally, being more accountable for the events that occur in the rooms I work in and for my performance. There’s a lot of stress that comes with that, and fellow staff members are not slow to judge and gossip about how you’re doing. Despite the strain, I’ve been fortunate to be very supported by my loving boyfriend and ever encouraging mom, and I haven’t lost my confidence. That’s the trick: no matter how beat down the situations around you in the OR may make you feel, you CANNOT let it get inside your head. It’s a test of mental stamina. Those who can find a way not to take gossip, verbal abuse from surgeons, mind games, or organizational bull and still maintain their sanity, integrity, and dignity are the ones who are going to last. More importantly, I’ve come to appreciate even more what a steep learning curve there is when with nearly every move you make, a patient’s life hangs in the balance. It means HUGE responsibility and it is not a path for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.
Being off orientation also changes some of the ways I look at my internship process now. While I was an intern, I felt protected and always had Belinda (my nurse educator) to go to. Although I know I am always free to turn to her even now for help, advice, or commiseration, I feel awkward doing so anymore because she has new interns to focus on. And although my opinion of her and of the training she provided us with remains high, I can now see her without the rose-colored glasses that I wore as a naive intern and I can appreciate some of the criticism that other staffers voice about her. A lot of that is idle talk and some is actually quite nasty, however, I do agree that in some instances Belinda could have protected us more or better prepared us for some of the situations we would face when we were set loose. I am reminded of Melissa, an intern who started in the group that followed Esther and myself, and how she was effectively driven out of the OR by derisive preceptors and poor managerial support. Although I know Belinda stepped in to address those issues on several occasions, could she have prevented Melissa’s eventual transfer to a different unit? Or did she lack the ability to better handle the situation due to personal faults or her own lack of managerial backup? If she could have scrubbed in with us for even one day each per month, or just been with us in the rooms for any duration of time longer than the few moments that she would poke her head in our rooms, I feel she would have been able to appreciate our strengths more and to have identified our weaknesses and skill areas in need of improvement. Unfortunately I think this was impossible due to other obligations thrust upon her by the hospital, which routinely pulled Belinda away from the OR and from much desired meetings and face-to-face time with the interns. Nobody’s perfect anyway, and it’s very common knowledge in our work environment that we need a structural overhaul after so many years without a stable management base.
I’ve also learned that when it comes to working in my hospital, you must be nice to everyone but don’t trust a soul. The person who may be friendly and encouraging to your face may just be the one who trashes you behind your back and talks negatively about you to your supervisors in order to either make themselves feel important or to get ahead in some way. As with many nursing work environments, ours is full of whispers, gossip, secrets, judgments, and cliques. The same goes not only for coworkers, but for supervisors as well. My nurse manager creates an environment of intimidation and negativity in our workplace, where positive remarks are limited to yellow comment cards submitted from one staff member to another (commonly a friend) at the weekly staff meetings but where criticism and fear of wrongdoing are rampant on a daily basis. It seems that every minor error or lack of knowledge is deemed a “terminable” offense. His attitude and cold demeanor have instilled in me a distrust in my ability to report grievances or safety concerns that I witness in the workplace for fear of being seen as a complainer or a trouble-maker. This is not a healthy or constructive work environment. More than anything, I just want to fly under the radar unnoticed by him so that I do not have to be in his presence.
He started working at our hospital just weeks before I came off orientation. At a warning meeting with he and the assistant manager, which was being held for an unintended scheduling error of mine, I felt like I was trapped in a tug of war between the old manager (now long gone) and this new one. Really, I felt like I was on the witness stand being attacked by a hungry prosecutor. He asked “how attached” was I to my new shift, which is an off-shift from 9am-9:30pm. I responded that I liked it very much and felt that it is a great learning opportunity, since I get to see lots of different surgeries and expand my ability to think quickly on my feet while doing breaks and lunches on the first half of my shift, but that I also get the experience of running my own room when 3pm rolls around and I relieve the day shift staff in rooms that are still running. I also get more experience with Level cases and with traumas on this shift.
I was assigned this shift by the old manager. She asked what my preference was for scheduling after orientation, and I honestly answered that I would prefer to work three 12 hour shifts per week rather than continue on day shift five days per week as I had been doing while on orientation. I had worked 12’s as a med-surg tech for two years in college and was eager to get off the five day a week routine, especially given that I am in a distance relationship and travel the hour long distance back and forth several times a month. She informed me that doing three 12’s after orientation was acceptable and that they had a staffing shortage between 3-7pm, therefore she would be assigning me to the 9a-9:30p off-shift so that I could fill that void. As I have since learned, traditionally everyone who graduated from my perioperative internship program had been required to continue on day shift (7a-3:30p) for the first six months that they were working solo. I also learned that some of my coworkers wanted the shift I was placed on and were (understandably) pissed when the newbie fresh off of orientation was given it instead. However, I was assigned my 9a-9:30p shift for fulfill a need, not because I was aimed at devilishly thwarting anybody else’s goals or desires.
That being said, my new manager was blunt in his explanation that he does not like having me on this shift. Belinda had been more polite, but equally expressive that she deemed it a bad idea based on her perception of how much backup I would have to call on if need be. The new manager, in his cold way, gave me the distinct impression that he would be monitoring me very closely to look for even the slightest slip-up so that he could yank me back to doing day shift five days a week and strip me of my 3 day a week 12 hour shifts. However, he did not forcibly take me off the 9a-9:30p shift, which leads me to believe that unless I do seriously mess up and give him a valid excuse, he is perhaps not able to override my current assignment without my consent. Talk about adding on the pressure when you’re already nervous anyway about being on your own!
I truly feel that I’ve been doing well though, and perhaps even exceeding a few people’s expectations – including my own. Last week I was stocking case carts for the next day when around 4:30pm we had a Level 1 emergency craniotomy roll into the OR from the ER. Two other nurses and I immediately flew into action, hauling the neuro trauma cart into a room and rapidly organizing our supplies. One of the nurses told me to scrub in since he’d never even seen this type of case before and had no idea how to scrub it, even though he had been working there much longer than me. I was nervous but felt up for the challenge, and knew that I was competent enough to do the job as well as anyone else around me. The surgeon was a bear to work with and by the end of my shift I was shaking from hunger and exhaustion, but I did a good job and the patient did very well. The nurse who was circulating in my room did something afterward I don’t think I’ll ever forget. The surgeon was yelling during the case and threatening to send a vicious email to our boss about how frustrated he was with delays – such as a drill not working or a bone cement not being what he wanted – all of which he blamed on me. The circulating nurse went to our nurse manager the next day and told him directly what a good job I had done, how professional I had been under pressure, and how she did not think that she (as a 15 year veteran of such tense situations) could have handled the surgeon’s behavior with the patience and level-headed-ness that I did. There aren’t that many people who will speak up for you like that in this business, and I’ll always be grateful for her for it.
Speaking of surgeons, part of my reality shock has been coming to accept that the doctor’s are a hospitals “cash cows,” not nurses or anybody else. Patients come to see doctors, not nurses or auxiliary staff or administrators. So hospitals work very hard to accommodate even the most sexist, racist, abusive doctors and particularly surgeons in order to keep the money flowing. Surgeons can get pretty bad, even to the point of throwing sharp objects in the operating suite. I’ve read some forum postings on Allnurses.com about how some hospitals have forms that staff can complete online or on paper to report such bad behaviors from doctors. I wonder, why don’t we? In an instance of irony after feeling somewhat harassed by the surgeon in my craniotomy case on Tuesday, the emphasis of our Thursday staff meeting was about that very issue. When I asked the workplace diversity specialist about documenting surgeon aggression and abuse, she really didn’t offer me much hope or advice other than to repeatedly chastise them in the moment. There is probably some validity to that suggestion, yet in some circumstances I would question whether being confrontational during a heated moment when a surgeon is already flying off the handle while a patient lies under their aggravated hands is really such a good idea.
In some situations I have spoken up though. There is a young surgeon who is in her first year on her own. It’s sort of like we are paralleled in where we stand in our respective professions – both fresh off training and being watched closely. She takes pictures of everything she does and is very conscious of her surgical start and stop times, as these are reviewed for the entire first year as a new attending. On two previous occasions I had been circulating in this surgeon’s room and at the end of the cases, she had gone to the computer where I had the nursing documentation program open on the screen and she had adjusted the end time for the surgery to trim off a few minutes, in essence making her look better in the eyes of the review board. The first two times I simply went back into the system after taking the patient to recovery and corrected the times to match what anesthesia had rightly deemed them to be. The third time that this happened, however, I calmly walked over and informed the surgeon that the computerized nursing document was a legal document and that it was inappropriate for her to touch it, just as it would be inappropriate for me to do anything to the charting she is responsible for completing. She blew up at me and threw a hissy fit, even cursing at one point, which I reported to my shift supervisor. It was later addressed by the nurse manager and seems to be resolved, yet that experience served as an important reminder to me that what I do and what I chart is a legal obligation to be truthful. My documentation can protect the surgical team and myself if, for any reason, we were ever brought to court to defend our actions. It can also protect the patient in case there was ever a recall on a type of surgical implant or if a medication error was made. Therefore it’s important not only morally and ethically, but legally, to report the truth and do be cautious with my paperwork.
Sometimes it’s the surgeons who make an impression on you, other times it’s the surgery itself and the questions if raises in your mind. There is one patient in his mid-twenties who has been to our OR several times in the past few weeks for excisions and debridements to his massive burns, which he inflicted on himself with a gasoline fire in an attempt to commit suicide. This poor troubled young man must have had his reasons for not wanting to live, and instead of respecting his wishes, we are keeping him alive on a ventilator and putting him through even more pain in our attempts to heal him. Burns are one of the worst kinds of injuries to recover from, as the surgical recovery process is intensely painful, takes many visits to the OR, and is inflicted on the patient many times over in order to remove dead tissue which could get infected and to prevent skin and muscle contractures. In burn victims, the team in the OR must cause more pain in order to properly care for the patient, but it disturbs a nurse’s mind to realize that in order to help her patient she must first hurt him. That is the opposite of how we normally think – “first, do no harm.” It’s also difficult when you have a case such as this one where you find yourself wishing that this patient had been successful in his suicide attempt, simply because then he would not have to deal with the pain that follows.
Such situations also make me question the economical impact on that patient’s family, and on the health care system. Money does not stop us from providing the utmost quality of care to any trauma victim that rolls through our doors, but I do sometimes wonder why we struggle (sometimes in vain) to save patients like this who may not even want to be saved. And speaking of socio-economical impact leads into another case that made me consider it as well, and which makes me a strong advocate for family planning. With so many unplanned or unwanted pregnancies, which could have been prevented with better education, why isn’t family planning more heavily emphasized in our society? I was in the room for an abortion about a month ago. The woman was a heroin addict with a history of rebound even after many cycles of rehab, has had 5 previous abortions, and 5 living children who had mental health deficits from her drug abuse and who are wards of the state due to her inability to care for them. Although I am pro-choice, nobody actually wants to be there when an abortion is performed. It is significantly unpleasant. In cases like this though, I wonder, why was this woman not sterilized after the first or second abortion? How do we prevent situations like this from arising in the first place? Once a child is here, I support the idea that the government must help provide for those children if their parents cannot or are unfit to, but some such children perhaps should not have been conceived in the first place. For future generations who must pay the taxes to support these children and who must share the limited resources available on our planet, I am a strong advocate for family planning and birth control options.
On a brighter note, I was very interested to be at work one night recently when a patient was being brought to the OR for organ harvesting. This patient had had an aneurysm and was brain dead, his heart and body being kept alive only through mechanical ventilation. The family wanted to respect his wishes to donate his organs, so Living Legacy was called in and it was arranged. It was sad, of course, but so interesting from a nursing standpoint. What an amazing gift to give from one life that is ending in order to reinvigorate another life! Shunts were put into the abdominal cavity via either side of the groin area so that cold fluids could flood the peritoneum and keep the organs chilled immediately following cardiac death. It was an unusual harvesting in that the family did not say goodbye to the patient in the ICU; they wanted to be present when cardiac death occurred after the endotracheal tube was removed and the vent had stopped breathing for him. So the family was there after he had been prepped and draped, his wife holding his hand and blowing him a final goodbye kiss after the monitors stopped beeping. It was so tragically beautiful, and she was grateful to be able to fulfill his final wishes and have a peaceful parting. I will always be so thankful that both of the first two patients whom I have witnessed dying both had lived full, long lives and that their families were at peace when the time came. I have been very fortunate not to have been traumatized yet by witnessing any violent or unexpected deaths during my young nursing career.