I spend a lot of my time as a nurse feeling frustrated. I get frustrated with the doctors. I get frustrated with my patients and their families. I get frustrated with the seemingly never-ending mountains of poo that abound on our ward. I get doubly frustrated when I don’t see my patients getting better. Many days, I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle. With all of this frustration weighing me down, it’s a wonder I have the will to get up in the morning. But then, along comes a patient who reminds me how miraculous modern medicine can be. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, and a sense of pride in knowing we not only helped save this person’s life, but also preserve its quality.
Her story isn’t necessarily unique. She is a very average, middle-aged woman who was getting ready for work one morning when she suddenly collapsed. Her husband found her moments later, unable to speak or move the entire right side of her body. He rushed her to the Emergency Department, where they determined she had suffered a massive, ischemic stroke. Believe it or not, she was lucky. She had been found in time and made it to the E.D. in time to qualify for lysis treatment. It’s risky, but can also produce miraculous results. When she came up to our ward, she still couldn’t communicate or move her right limbs. But as time progressed, so did she. By midnight, she was chatting with me, telling me about her job, and using both arms as if nothing had ever happened.
I know it wasn’t a really miracle. I know her recovery was a result of years of medical research and trial and error. But for me, this was a little miracle. After a long, hard, frustrating week, I needed a victory. And there she was, asking me for a glass of water. It’s ironic how one person’s medical emergency can be another’s epiphany.
No comments:
Post a Comment