The Right Place at the Right Time
I once heard another nurse say you don't ever "turn off" of being a nurse. She meant that when you're a nurse, you're always a nurse, whether you're working in a hospital or nursing home, or in the grocery store, or stuck in traffic.
I tend to agree.
Several months ago, I was scheduled to work a shift through a nursing agency. I work night shifts, 11 p.m.-7a.m., so I had adjusted my sleep schedule and took a nap after dinner so I could get ready for work and leave by 10 p.m. I drove to the rehab hospital I was scheduled to work at, which was about 45 minutes away from my house. When I got there, the unit secretary looked at me with a confused look on her face. That was the first sign that something was amiss.
"Ms. Bryant, I don't have you on the schedule for tonight," she said.
Ah, the pleasures of agency work! Someone had fumbled the scheduling and I had arrived on the job only to be sent home again, with a promise of 2 hours of "inconvenience pay" included in my next check.
I left feeling slightly down. I was ready to work, had messed up my sleeping pattern for this shift, and had to spend a pretty penny on gas to make it to the job. The agency I worked for offered 60 percent of your pay instantly after the shift was over, and I could have used that money. On the other hand, now I was dosed on caffeine and could stay up and do some long-neglected writing. But I knew I would end up going home and crawling into my nice warm bed!
I was almost to the interstate exit closest to my house when I saw something that changed those plans temporarily. A minivan had just went into a spin (a blown tire perhaps?) and crashed into the guardrail. Smoke was pouring from the engine. Without a second thought, I pulled over and asked the obligatory, "I am a nurse, can I help?"
Another passerby had pulled over and called the paramedics on his cell phone. Seeing that I had things under control, he then left. There were a few small children in the car, the youngest a toddler and oldest perhaps 9. I used my nursing skills to assess everyone and keep them calm. One little boy of about 6 was particularly nervous. He kept asking if he was going to be OK. I assured him that I was a nurse, and I was going to stay with him until the ambulance got there to take him to the hospital, where doctors and nurses would take care of him.
Even his father seemed comforted, telling him "everything is going to be OK. The nurse is going to take care of you," in broken English. The official-looking uniform I was wearing for my cancelled shift perhaps made them feel even more confident.
The ambulance was there within minutes. I was able to inform the two paramedics of the passengers who seemed to have the worst injuries, including the scared little boy. With his abdominal pain and apprehension, I was worried about the possibility of internal injuries.
The father thanked me profusely as his children were loaded into the back of the ambulance.
"You're welcome; I was just doing my job," I told him, because it is my job to be a nurse, whether I'm on the clock or not.
To this day, I don't know what happened to that family, but I think of them often. As I drove the last few minutes back to my home that night, I realized that even though I didn't get to work the shift I was scheduled for, I was exactly where I needed to be that night.