I'm alive. I know that I haven't posted in a VERY long time, but I really haven't had too much excitement over the past several months. School is pretty monotonous, and I'm SO ready to be done. I really love what I am learning though and enjoy clinicals. This past week, I wrote an essay for a scholarship that I applied for. It asked me to write about a "sacred encounter" that I had as a student nurse. Since the title of this neglected blog is about experiences, I thought it was an appropriate post. As these things go, it's kind of cheesy and sounds like an essay, but I think the story is sweet and it's a good experience. As I reflect on this encounter that happened over a year ago, I'm reminded that sometimes naivety breeds beauty.
*Patient’s actual name has been changed for privacy
For me, nursing is not just a career. It’s a calling. I know with certainty that I am making a difference in the lives of the people that I interact with. Whether I am in the hospital or out in the community, I know that as a student I have a unique relationship with the patients and their families. I find that many patients and families find it easier to open up to students and view us as less intimidating. Also, our patient load is such that we usually have more availability to frequently interact one-on-one with them. This is such a blessing, and has really cultivated a sense of empathy and personalization within my understanding of the nurse’s role. I believe in the importance of listening to and understanding my patients and treating each one with compassion and respect. With that being said, I have been fortunate to have countless Sacred Encounters during my time as a student nurse.
My very first Sacred Encounter occurred just minutes after walking into Covenant Medical Center for my first day of clinicals. Having never worked in a hospital setting, I felt my heart rate increase as I stepped off the elevator. I felt like a foreigner. After receiving report on my patient, I headed down the hall to meet her. I must have stood at the door for at least 2 minutes before I had the nerve to go in. When I entered, I was greeted by a small, frail woman named Dee Brown*. Before I could get the words out, she asked, “Are you my student?” I told her that I was and proceeded to ask if she needed anything. She responded with, “I just need you to sit down here and talk. I’ve been waiting for someone to talk with.” Since she was my only patient, and quite frankly I was scared to go back out to the madness at the nurse’s station, I decided to do what she requested. For the next 30 minutes, Dee proceeded to share her story. I listened intently, and as the minutes went by, I started to understand her pain. As the day went on, she continued to share-while I bathed her, while I helped her eat, while I changed her sheets. By noon, she had asked me to call her Dee, instead of Mrs. Brown. Towards the end of my shift, as I stepping in to check on her, she made what seemed like a ridiculous request. She asked if I would sing with her. Taken back, and not really sure what a “nurse” would do, I asked, “You want me to sing? That’s not really something we learn in nursing school, and I’m not very good at it.” She insisted however. Despite her frail figure, she was quite full of life and spunk. So, as to not to upset her, I told her we could sing softly. We proceeded to sing Frank Sinatra, The Righteous Brothers, and even the old hymn “I’ll Fly Away.” By the end of our antics, she was smiling from ear to ear.
That day I left knowing that regardless of whether or not singing with your patient is considered, “appropriate for a nurse” or not, I had done the right thing. For my patient, it was undoubtedly therapeutic. I’m so glad that Dee was my very first patient. She made me realize that you may have all the clinical skills in the world, but if you don’t have compassion and love, you’ve missed it. Six weeks later, while looking up the obituary of another patient of mine, I came across the obituary for Dee. I almost didn’t recognize her full, round face in the picture they had used. I did however recognize her smile, and I couldn’t help but smile myself as I thought of our short encounter together. I know I made a difference that day.
