crocodile tears
it sounds overly dramatic that some mean remarks from a patient could move me to tears, but i was tired and that was my excuse.
the only thing was, i was too proud to cry in front of my fellow nurses, so i waited till it was my break, at 4 AM, an hour and a half after i was called “Nasty May”. i covered my face with the bath blanket, wiped the first drops of tear, when all of a sudden, the door opened and i had to stop being a baby. i left the doctor’s conference room to give way to a doctor who wanted to do something there. i swallowed hard, aware that crying was not an option, and in this particular case, pointless.
sometimes, i feel like everything is just so pointless.
i never wore a mask to clean smelly patients because i always had that picture of my mom when she had a necrotic wound on her toe and she was deeply hurt by a student nurse’s reaction of gagging at the smell of her wound. when she was crying in humiliation and self pity in that hospital room many years ago, i vowed i will never wear a mask except for isolated cases that require a mask for protection.
so, there he was, the whole 642 pounds of him, clean but with this distinct unbearable smell caused by trapped sweat between his skin folds. if i had any emotional reaction to the whole thing, it was defintely the feeling of sadness. i mean, it was a simple placement of condom catheter, but it took me a while to do it. he had to catch his breath while lifting his lower belly which was covering his penis. someone else had to push around his penis, while i gently pull it out for the procedure.
when it came off for the second time, he called me and said “i want my catheter replaced, and i want somebody who knows how to do it, not you.” i clarified his request just to make sure i heard him correctly, he said “yes, i want somebody else to do it, because obviously you don’t know how to do it correctly, and i don’t want to end up soaked in my own urine just because this catheter is out.” i said okay, told the charge nurse, and asked somebody else to fix the catheter.
“and that Nasty May, i don’t want to see her face again, and i don’t want her in my room again!” why he said this to the charge nurse, i have no idea. but when after all the commotion ended with the nursing supervisor in his room, he said that when i was placing the catheter, the patient care assistant and i were laughing, with shameless disregard to his dignity, and we had the audacity to continue laughing even when he told us “stop laughing, this is not funny!”
this was all a complete lie. the truth was, just like him, i found the whole situation heartbreaking. second of all, even if there was a remote possiblity i wanted to laugh, it was physically impossible for me to do so because i have been struggling with my breathing the whole 45 minutes i was in his room. my “no mask vow” worked against me, but i was determined not to break it, even if i had to hold my breath most of the times.
sometimes, i feel like it is not worth it. why bother being sensitive to patients’ needs when all they care about is trying to prove that they are being abused and are being treated unfairly?
it was strongly recommended by the nursing supervisor that i write an event form. when i asked him what event i should write about, i wasn’t being sarcastic. he said i have to give my side of the story and let the investigators know that i wasn’t laughing. i asked him, “you mean i’m supposed to write about an incident that never was?” he said yes.
“i wasn’t laughing when i placed the catheter” the thought of writing that was extremely absurd, so i didn’t. i stated the facts, and just hoped that whoever they are that will look into this case will see that i have not done anything wrong to this patient.
what killed me was his refusal to have me as his nurse anymore. after all the hours i spent in trying to make him feel comfortable, with no gratitude and appreciation, i never thought of refusing him on my next shift, because i felt it wasn’t fair. to him, to the other staff. he later retracted his request and said, “i want May back”, but frankly, the damage has been done.
but who says things should be fair? the more i think about it, the more i realize this whole experience was stupid, and it will be a waste of my time to cry.
believe me, sometimes, crying is overrated
(The story was copy pasted from http://www.aboutanurse.com)
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Crocodile tears?? air mata buaya? maksud loee?
C’mon, kita sedang berbicara mengenai air mata yang mengalir justru karena orang salah memahami tindakan kita. salah persepsi. salah mengerti.
Punya pengalaman dengan ‘air mata buaya’ anda sendiri?






