A Lesson Learned

As I sit at Starbucks, knowing full well I should be working on long care plan, but realizing that until I am able to release some of the things weighing on my heart, I really cannot work effectively. Although I could probably sit here and write about my experiences from the last 2 days for several hours, I will limit myself to sharing one thing that one of my patients taught me this week.

In nursing school, when studying a disease or any condition a patient may be experiencing, we learn about the causes or the etiology of that disease. Now the cause of a disease can be something that one has relatively no control over- maybe it is something you are born with or caused by the invasion of an infectious agent into the body. Lots of conditions are caused by the combination of multiple risk factors: sedentary lifestyle, diet, genetic predisposition, environment, alcohol, smoking, age, the list just goes on and on.

Where am I going with this? Well, it really just hit me that as health care providers, the way we interact with patients often times is influenced by our perception of how the disease came to be, and our bias as to whether or not the patient played a role. I think human nature naturally leads us to feel a greater compassion towards someone born with a congenital disease versus an older adult who has accumulated multiple chronic diseases at least partially related to lifestyle choices. So how do you overcome these inevitable biases to provide each and every patient with the care they deserve, simply for being a human being??

So one of my patients had a history of IV heroin use. It was unclear of when the last time they had injected. This patient was suffering from several serious infections causing extensive pain. I was warned that interacting with this patient would be difficult and that it would be best if tried to go into their room as little as possible. I took this as more of a challenge to find out what was really going on with the patient, than as a reason to stay away. I immediately felt a deep sense of compassion and really developed a connection just after our first conversation. Now perhaps the 2 days I cared for this patient, they happened to be more agreeable and cooperative than previously- but I honestly attribute my ability to connect to this patient to simply making sure they knew that I cared about them. In that moment, I did not care if they had shot up on heroin the moment before hospital admission. I didn't care that they complained about pain constantly. I didn't care that they were not outright friendly and interactive, or that they often were resistant to treatments and nursing care. And it made the difference. Instead of ushering me away and resisting care, I was given permission to come back in the room anytime, as their "schedule was pretty free."

As I was around this patient for a couple days, I witnessed some of the conversations the doctors and other health care providers had, both with the patient and in the hallways. Although no one outright said it, there was a sense of frustration that the patient wasn't fully cooperating, and I got the feeling that they felt this patient should be more grateful for the care he was receiving. I saw people roll their eyes, speak patronizingly, completely disregard the patients' pain needs, and fail to get to know this patient on any level aside from his medical history. And it pisses me off. It really does. And sadly, I know that most likely if this was an individual with a pleasant and easygoing personality without a history of drug use, they would not be treated in this way.

Yet in the midst of frustration, my heart continues to move towards compassion and advocacy. As much as I want to make sure this never happens to another patient, I know in some ways that is just inevitable. No one neglected his medical needs, and they were all providing competent care. All I can do is allow God to use me to love and bless the patients that are placed in my care for the time I am given. It is so hard to walk away from a situation like that. I can only hope and pray that someone else will take the time to get to know the patient. Someone who will know just as much about his love of fishing or how many states he has lived in or his dreams, as they know about his platelets, vital signs, or antibiotic therapy.