New to Nursing : New Grad/New to Nursing

The Beauty of the Beginner

Mia Ross — Mon, 03 Jun 2013 12:28:00 GMT

I’ve started to lose sight of my beginner’s eyes.

When I first starting my new job, the learning curve was steep. I knew nothing about working in the OR. It was like watching a new and dramatic movie unfold every single day, everything enchanting and awe-inspiring. I saw each day with the freshness of a newcomers eyes: Watch how the anesthesiologist puts in the peripheral nerve block! Look how poetically the sterile drapes are applied! How will I ever document all that magic that has occurred in this miraculous OR?!

“The deer in headlights look won’t last,” my seasoned co-workers told me. “Soon, you’ll be used to it and the job will lose its charm.”

They were right.

They were also wrong.

Being a beginner is a beautiful thing, though in the moment it doesn’t always feel like it. I can remember feeling perpetually anxious and incompetent, useless and overwhelmed. Nonetheless, I viewed each case as an adventure waiting to happen which allowed me to appreciate and take pleasure in my new job. Today, as I grow more and more acclimated to the daily grind, that fascination becomes harder and harder to find.

It’s quite paradoxical that the feelings of dread and inadequacy I felt as a beginner are what I now miss most about my nursing novice-hood. I knew my sweaty palms and shaky hands and heightened heart rate couldn’t last forever, but I didn’t expect experience to change how I viewed my job. I knew I had to do some thought reconstruction when, while giving report one day to the relief nurse, I said, “Oh, it’s just a tendon transfer. No biggie.”

My co-workers were correct: The job has lost some of its flair as I’ve grown accustomed to things. It’s only natural. The beauty of the brain is that it gets used to just about anything. The beauty of the imagination, though, can supersede. If I put on my home-made ‘beginner’s vision goggles’, I can continue to see my habituated job through the astounded eyes of a neophyte. All I need is a little conscious effort, some child-like creativity, and a whole bag of a gratitude. Undeniably, life is something you get used to--the real expert knows how to keep the wonder-filled perspective of a beginner all the while.

Out in Public

Frank Visco — Fri, 31 May 2013 19:18:00 GMT

Spring semester just ended, but there’s no rest for the weary, as we’ve already rolled into summer session. La Salle only slotted us for one five credit class this semester, so I should face a lighter work load in the lead up to my final semester of school. Obviously, that’s awesome.

I’m taking Public Health Nursing, so I’m expecting a unique clinical experience. I’ve gotten used to assisting patients who are already having severe health issues in a hospital setting, so getting out in the community to participate in prevention, health promotion and education should be a new challenge.

Blood pressure checks and immunizations seem like safe bets, but beyond that I really have no idea what I’ll be doing. Students in my program are going to all sorts of places, even seemingly odd locations like a race track.

My specific group has been stationed at a social services building within a predominantly Spanish-speaking Latino community. This will be my first taste of a language barrier, so I’m excited to begin developing skills to circumvent such an issue. Given national trends, learning Spanish seems a smart move for someone in healthcare, so I aim to give it a try once my nursing schooling is behind me. But for now, I’ll do my best to serve the people in my designated community.

The Art of Listening

Mia Ross — Mon, 13 May 2013 12:13:00 GMT

I learned a valuable lesson at work last week.

As an orthopedic operating room (OR) nurse, my manager constantly has to remind me that we have schedule to keep. I’ve only been working for a few months, but I’ve already been asked the question, “What was the delay in transferring the patient to the room?” multiple times. Though I usually try to make up a logistical excuse, the reason is always the same: because I love talking to the patients and their families in the holding area.

This day, as the holding nurse gave me report, she rolled her eyes as she whispered to me, “This one’s just a doll.” I smiled slightly and nodded in understanding of her warning. Nurses do this for one another. We forewarn to prevent disaster. We urge each other to put on protective gear. I understand there are positive sides to this, but as I approached the patient bed, I made a decision. From this moment on, no matter how high maintenance, loud or angry this patient was I would not roll my eyes. I would be open and honest. I would advocate for her.

As I pulled back the curtain, there was no giant green monster laying in that bed. Instead, there was a sixty year old woman, scared to death about having surgery; a woman probably scared to death about a lot of things. I performed my usual routine assessment. A story began to unfold. The way that she fell was so unfair, she said. So sudden. So debilitating. She was still mourning her accident and humiliated from being completely dependent. I listened actively, said nothing. After a lengthy soliloquy, the patient looked up at me. Her eyes found empathy in mine. That was all she was looking for. After I simply listened, without judgement, the patient decided, all on her own, that she was “ready to get to the next stage of convalescence.” I smiled and said, “then it looks like it’s time to make our way into the OR.”

I was late into the room, again. The anesthesiologist looked impatient. I knew my manager would be on her way. I didn’t care. The patient looked content. There was a look of peace on her face as she drifted off into her unconscious. This is the reason I became a nurse, I thought: to assuage anxiety, alleviate pain, mitigate suffering. If the clock can’t slow for me to do that, the schedule will have to wait. A few minutes of tardiness can cost the hospital a few dollars, but taking the time to listen, really listen, to a patient in need is priceless.

The 24/7 Nurse

Mia Ross — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 23:38:00 GMT

In the past weeks, there has been much discussion surrounding the nurse who allegedly denied an elderly woman CPR at an independent living center in California. The 87 year old resident passed away while the nurse argued with a 911 dispatcher about the facility's policy about (not) administering CPR. The story has raised passionate debates, which float ubiquitously among major news casts and healthcare communities. Though the woman may have been a licensed nurse, she was not practicing as one at the senior living center-- and the facility had a rule: no CPR was to be started by any employee for any resident. The (lack of) action by this woman has raised an ethical question: What is the responsibility of a nurse--not just as an institutional employee--but as an independent, licensed entity?

Living in NYC, I notice people every single day in desperate need of compassion, connection and care. As one of the world's largest cities (and, ironically, containing the most isolated people), I've been fortunate enough to experience my role as a nurse outside of my hospital job on a daily basis. In my view, it is a nurse's priority to connect with people, regardless of hospital policy. Whether it be on the subway, the sidewalk, or at the grocery store, it is my responsibility to pay attention. It is my chosen duty to take note of suffering and attempt to mediate it in whichever way I am able. This is my career. Not a job. Every single day. Not just for the duration of my shift. I must serve the patient's of the world. It may be simply an empathic smile to a despairing stranger. It may mean giving up my taxi for a man looking desperate. It may be helping a woman carry her stroller up the subway stairs during rush hour. No matter how difficult the day has been, how utterly exhausted I feel, I must continue to be aware. It is my lifetime responsibility, as a nurse, to help.

The point of the this recent event in California does not lay in the verdict of the case. Whether the institution or the individual is fined is merely another legislative ruling. The point, instead, is more pervasive. The definition of nursing is at great risk. If nurses are hindered by institutional protocols, unable to perform their duties as professionals, there will be more harm than good (the antithesis of the Hippocratic oath). If nurses are not motivated and encouraged to take action, our whole profession will continue to suffer. Nurses must be trained and empowered to take charge in emergency situations. We live in turbulent times. The world is filled with suffering. In California, in Boston, and in the tiny town where you grew up, confident, courageous, assertive nurses are needed. We need nursing schools and institutions to propagate these values. After all, if we can't act who else will?

Being the Nurse Your Patient Wants and Needs You to Be

Frank Visco — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 19:50:00 GMT

Generally speaking, I try to be a friendly conversationalist when taking care of patients. I’m a big believer in the personal touch nurse’s can add at the point of care, so I do my best to make connections while providing nursing services.

Most patients I’ve come across seem to enjoy being engaged on the personal level. They like talking about their grandkids or hobbies, and they seem very keen to hear about my schooling or how long I’ve been married or whatever. Not only do such niceties temporarily take patients’ minds off the hardships they may be experiencing, but they also make for a pretty effective ice breaker during some of the more vulnerable activities like sponge baths and bathroom assists. And, I’ve found acting this way can often increase compliance.

That’s the way I prefer to do things, but I’ve come to recognize that adaptability is key to providing quality nursing care. While some patients may appreciate this approach, others are not interested in conversation and would prefer as little staff interaction as possible. And really, that’s not a bad thing. It’s important to try to give the patient the level of care they want.

However, it’s also important to remember that it’s not just about what the patient wants, but also what the patient needs. Sometimes these things don’t align. A patient may not want you there to help them wash up or be repositioned and turned, but realistically, skin breakdown is going to occur if they aren’t. A patient may not want to take a medicine, but it may be vital to their well being.

It can sometimes be a tricky balancing act. Patients have rights, but, at the same time, we have certain obligations. Navigating the waters on this topic is one of the hardest aspects of this job – perhaps even more so than all the skills we have to master and knowledge we have to amass.

The Perfect First Job: Reality or Illusion?

Mia Ross — Mon, 01 Apr 2013 20:09:00 GMT

One of the most distressing times of my life was the interim between nursing school graduation and obtaining my first job as an RN.I shudder with the pressure I put myself under.After merely one year of study and clinical rotations (I graduated from an accelerated RN/BSN program), I was sent out into the world to be a nurse.Needless to say, I had no idea what I was doing.

The faculty at my University, though with good intention, gave me terrible advice after graduation.The recommendation was simple:my only choice was to find a solid hospital job in a medical/surgical unit.How hard could that be, I thought.As any new graduate nurse knows, in this economy, that's about as easy as running a marathon...backwards.As I reflect, I realize that not one of my professors asked me anything about my passions, my inherent skills, or what I dreamed of doing as a nurse.Not one conversation.Subsequently, after months of arduous searching and mass resume sending, I was granted a job offer at a hospital.I accepted the offer without a second thought.This job neither accentuated my skills nor ignited my passions, but inmy self-induced state of desperation I didn't even hesitate.

As I reflect on my post-graduate choices, I realize that it's okay if I am not, as of yet, living the dream. I work with great people; the job provides me with great experience. This is an avenue for me to earn money and benefits and amp up my resume. It's a chance to practice working in a large healthcare setting and work with a team of diverse providers. All good things. It's also proved to me that while I was in school my definition of a "nurse" was quite nebulous. In reality, I didn't even know what being a nurse meant. It's one thing to sit in a classroom and talk about nursing. It's another thing to shadow under the wings of a professional nurse during clinical rotations. It's a completely different thing to practice as a licensed RN on an understaffed floor for twelve hours straight. Thanks to my first job I have learned the difference. Though I do wish I had given myself more time to browsedifferent optionsbefore jumping into the sea of full-time employment, this job is an opportunity to bring me closer to defining what being a nurse means to me, and I'm grateful for that.

I don't believe that new graduates need to find the perfect fit on the first shot.I do insist, however, that every new nurse at least try.I insist that every new nurse take a good look inside themselves and decipher what exactly it is they're good at and what it is that fuels their consciousness.Did pharmacology make you contemplate gauging your eyes out?Are you really going to enjoy that ICU job that requires you to manage multiple medications (and their interactions) for multiple patients all in a day's work?I happen to love pharmacology, but pediatrics made me want to jump out the window. I don't want to jump out the window.Neither do you.You can have a decent job with decent pay and decent vacation time, but if you're not really invested and engaged the value of these securities are low.No one should tell you differently.

Therefore, I implore all new nurses (who have the means and opportunity) to take some serious time to find a decent-fitting first job.Believe me:it's going to take time.And you will need help.That's okay!No need to rush.After all, dangerous things happen when nurses are disengaged at work.Use this interlude to do things to grow as a person.Volunteer.Start learning a new language.Tutor nursing students.Speak with high school adolescents interested in going to nursing school.Even if it means moving back in with Mom and Dad, no worries!Be patient.There are so many exciting changes in healthcare happening.Don't be afraid to think outside the box and take a leap.Some say the perfect first job is an illusion, I say make it a reality.

Time for a Study Run

Frank Visco — Fri, 29 Mar 2013 18:58:00 GMT

As the end of nursing school creeps closer and closer, I'm continuously trying to improve my study regimen in the hopes of being well prepared for the NCLEX. This isn't exactly news, as I've written about honing my study habits several times in the past (most recently about the value of practice tests).

My latest strategy involves multitasking. I believe I've mentioned in this space before that I enjoy running quite a bit. Usually I listen to music or comedy podcasts during my runs, but I recently realized I could kill two birds with one stone by listening to recorded versions of my notes.

As a result, I've begun recording my notes for later audio use, and I've found the benefits are numerous. For starters, it has been helpful to say my notes out loud. Secondly, this strategy has afforded me the opportunity to study at all sorts of times, not just while running or when I have the opportunity to read. I have recently listened to my notes while driving, doing chores around the house, and grocery shopping.

And, perhaps most importantly, I have found that listening to my notes on repeat has lead to a sort of learning by osmosis. Sometimes, I'm not truly plugged into what the audio track is communicated, but I'm always hearing it.

I've been doing this for a few weeks now, and I've already seen improvements in my study recall and test scores. As a result, I'd fully recommend using this strategy if, like me, you have a hard time fitting studying in with all the other tasks you may be trying to do in a given week.

Remember to Educate

Frank Visco — Sun, 10 Mar 2013 12:26:00 GMT

In my brief time as a nursing student, I've come to realize most patients are not highly informed when it comes to health matters.

With healthy people, this makes sense some sense. For instance, if a woman doesn't have high blood pressure, I can understand why she wouldn't know the ins and outs of hypertension.

However, I've come to realize that many patients don't know much about their ailments they do have, and while it would be easy to blame the patient due to a lack of interest, I think the blame for that lies largely on our community of medical professionals.

During one of my clinical rotations, I took care of a patient who received an order for a thoracentesis. When meeting with the patient and his family, the doctor told them about the order but gave them no further information about the procedure or even what it would accomplish. As a result, they all became extremely worried after the doctor left. The fear in that room was so palpable that he might as well have told them a lobotomy had been ordered.

In another instance, I found myself taking care of a patient whose blood pressure had dropped severely. The nurse seemed alarmed, and sensing this, the patient also became worried. The hospital put her on 30-minute blood pressure checks,
hooked up a bag of saline and ordered a hemoccult, but gave the patient absolutely no information on what was happening. As a result, I later found her pacing around the room nervously unaware of how much of a fall risk she had become.

I know it can be easy to assume patients know certain things, but I've come to realize it's better and safer to err on the side of unawareness as the general baseline. Of course, in doing so, we need to be tactful and not create an aura of superiority, but otherwise, a simple explanation can go a long way in ensuring quality service and improved outcomes.

The Middle of the Puzzle

Frank Visco — Thu, 24 Jan 2013 13:56:00 GMT

I celebrated my birthday on Tuesday, and, as I'm sure many do on their birthdays, I took a moment or two of self-reflection. I'm 27, half-way through my third year of marriage, and, during this past year, I became a homeowner for the first time. Having finally found a bit of stability, my wife and I are entertaining the idea of starting a family. There's certainly a lot to be happy about.

That, of course, is my personal life. Professionally, I'm far more of a... project. I'm nearly five years removed from college graduation, and I'm still not in a fulfilling job, let alone a career. Three years ago, I made the decision to go back to school, and here I am with roughly a year left to go in nursing school. The end is in sight, and yet I feel mostly unprepared for what lies ahead. And, given that, periodic feelings of dejection can (and do) creep up on me.

That said, I'm predicting a big year for myself professionally in 2013. Over the last three years, I've learned so much that it's often felt like I couldn't possibly retain the onslaught of information. But, now that I'm well into the 400-level course work, I'm finally making connections as my classes start to come around on all the things we just left hanging in the lower levels.

It's like I've been working on a complicated jigsaw puzzle, but really all I've been doing is turning over the pieces and constructing the ends. Until recently, I hadn't begun working on the middle, but now that I am, it all seems to be coming together very quickly. Thankfully, I might add.

A few weeks back, in discussing his preparation for the NCLEX on this blog, Lorenzo Ortega wrote "I am finding that a lot of information seemed to stick during my last two years of school." He's even further along on the puzzle, and reading his observation was certainly encouraging for me, as I hope it was for those like me who are following him into the field.

Getting Alternative Pediatric Experiences

Frank Visco — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 15:45:00 GMT

I've been logging 12-hour shifts for my pediatrics rotation, and it's been a nice experience thus far. As with many clinicals, there has been a lot of downtime for us students, and so there's been a lot of playing games with kids and counseling parents. However, I recently got the opportunity to get some alternate experiences off the floor, spending half a shift shadowing a nurse in the emergency room (ER) and half doing the same in the critical care unit (CCU).

During clinical, I've gotten used to getting assigned one or two patients and then learning as much as I can about their situation so that I can manage their care. The ER is a totally different beast. I was there for five hours, and in that time, roughly two-dozen patients came through the six-room annex we were covering. It was a lot less about case management, and a lot more about getting in, doing a particular task (admitting assessment, medication administration, placing an IV, nasal suctioning, discharging patients, etc.), and moving on to the next job. Although one of my favorite aspects of nursing has been the interpersonal, therapeutic management of patients, I can't deny that I found the increased pace of the ER to be exciting and alluring.

CCU was at the opposite end of the spectrum, as it featured advanced care management. In the CCU, each nurse is responsible for only one or two patients, because the patients require so much constant, hands-on attention. During my time in the CCU, I got to help care for children recovering from surgeries related to coarctation of the aorta and tetralogy of fallot, and even got my first experience with high-frequency oscillatory ventilation (HFOV), an advanced type of mechanical ventilation that helps
prevent lung injury that can be associated with more conventional modalities. HFOV maintains high respiratory rates that result in 210 to 900 breaths per minute (bpm), depending on the hertz setting. My patient was experiencing 540 bpm, which resulted in a noticeable physical wiggle and made auscultation of the bowel, lung and heart sounds impossible. It was pretty surreal, as I hadn't realized so many bpm were even possible, little lone medically beneficial.

Overall, I've greatly enjoyed my pediatric rotation, but I especially enjoyed these alternative experiences. I'm just a few weeks away from finishing up the semester, and when I do, I'll have just three semesters left in nursing school. At this time next year, I'll be finishing my program, studying for NCLEX, and searching for nursing jobs. That time will come even quicker than I can imagine, and when it is, I know I'll be extra grateful for experiences like the ones I had in the ER and CCU.

Trudging Through the Saturation Point

Frank Visco — Sun, 11 Nov 2012 02:44:00 GMT

I'm officially more than halfway through my nursing program, and, to be honest, I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. Objectively, I know I've come a long way over the last few semesters, but there's just so much information to digest that I feel like I can't keep it all straight.

There are literally hundreds of maladies with various accompanying symptoms and medical procedures that I need to get down, and, at this point, it's all starting to seem like gobbledygook.

As a runner, I'm used to how hard it can be to break through the proverbial wall, but I also know that, if you keep going, it gets better and easier to finish the final leg of the race. Of course, when you're in the moment, that knowledge doesn't make the struggle all that easy, but it is still comforting.

If any readers are having a similar experience, I encourage reaching out to your peers, many of whom may be having the same struggles. In my case, I'm thankful to have a strong support group of students, and moving forward, my hope is that if we just keep plugging away, if we just keep taking the practice tests, reading the text, and studying hard, that it will eventually all come together.

Altering Perspectives on Psychiatric Patients

Frank Visco — Wed, 17 Oct 2012 17:57:00 GMT

I finished my psych rotation this past weekend, and in a few days I'll be rolling right into pediatrics. I'm excited to work with kids, and my experiences there will undoubtedly be the focus of my next several blog updates. However, this week, I'd like to offer some final thoughts on mental health care.

There's a perception out there that every patient in a psychiatric unit is severely and theatrically mentally ill. When I tell people I'm doing clinical hours on a psych unit, they instantly jump to conclusions, assuming I'm doing time in some sort of madhouse where every patient is violently delusional, hearing voices, proclaiming grandiose imaginings, enacting multiple personalities, or, at the very least, manically bouncing off the walls.

I'm not going to deny the possibility for some of that, but it's far from the whole picture. The truth is that psych units include many people who would seem totally normal and adjusted in most situations, just as much as you, me, and our loved ones. These people find themselves on psych units for a variety of reasons (anxiety, depression, addiction, eating disorder, suicide attempt, etc.), but their mere presence doesn't make them crazy. All it means is that they they need some help dealing with emotional and/or psychological issues.

You don't have to be a genius to realize there's a stigma surrounding psychiatric care. Most people see mental illness as a character weakness of some kind, but the fact is that psych issues often have a genetic or biochemical basis. Psych issues are very real and the people experiencing them shouldn't be treated as societal pariahs just because they have a bum amygdala or don't use serotonin properly.

In the end, looking down on someone for having an anxiety disorder or crippling depression is just as unfair as judging people for having type 1 diabetes or a heart defect. These are important distinctions, and I think it's our duty as health care professionals to advocate for psychiatric patients and facilitate better understanding of mental health.

Seeing the Value in Psychiatric Nursing

Frank Visco — Mon, 01 Oct 2012 13:46:00 GMT

I suppose it's a common criticism that psych nursing isn't real nursing, and I can see the validity in that line of thinking. I've been working on a psych unit for several weeks now, and, based on my experience, I can tell you that psych nurses aren't required to do as much of the grunt work that the more traditional nurse will be tasked with. Still, at the same time, psych nurses are expected to act in a psychotherapeutic role, and, thus far, I've found that to be a far tougher task.

Needless to say, this experience has definitely been a change of pace. Usually in clinical rotations, I am assigned a few patients and am tasked with doing most of the bedside care for them -- things like med administration, collection of vital signs, bed baths, diaper changes, wound care, etc. But with psych, none of that has occurred. Instead, I have been set up with very little guidance beyond the direction to have therapeutic conversations with any/all of the patients on the floor. So instead of checking blood sugar or setting infusion rates, I'm basically just hanging out with mood disorder patients.

Despite having next to no training and very little knowledge when it comes to dealing with psychotherapy, I'm happy to report I'm holding my own, fostering active listening skills and developing a certain level of comfort with asking probing questions concerning suicidal ideation, planning, and so forth. During each week there are inevitably times where I feel pretty useless -- there was a 2-hour block a few weeks back where every patient was either sleeping or watching the Eagles in the community room, and so all I did in that time was watch football, which was simultaneously awesome and guilt-inducing.

However, I have noticed that this more relaxed chill time with the patients (as well as my participation in community meeting and the daily group therapy session) has made them comfortable with me, allowing them to open up about their various depressions and anxieties. As a result, I have had quite a few intense one-on-ones with patients that seemed to be therapeutically beneficial, and there has been some sort of a rewarding aspect to that.

Having said that, these intense conversations can be very draining. Yesterday, I spent a great deal of my morning listening to a woman unload all her various issues, including multiple suicide attempts related to her mental illness, a strained marriage, financial difficulties, and a traumatic tale of familial sexual abuse. I followed that up by an afternoon spent with a man who, due to crippling anxiety, has totally dissociated from life. In between, there were many other conversations that were equally intense, and while I do think there is a great value in having these interactions, helping patients work through such issues can be a lot to take on. By the end of the day, I feel encased in a cloud of depression, and it takes a considerable amount of effort to make sure to leave that at the hospital when going back to my personal life.

Of course, this is an issue we have to deal with in all forms of nursing. Caring for a terminally ill patient also can be quite depressing and will likely require a nurse to have some level of therapeutic conversations in addition to all the other practical nursing tasks. But, when it's as consistently intense as it is on a psych floor, it does seem to go to a whole new level. And so I think there's reason to respect the function of psychiatric nurses. Even though many people poo-poo the job as not being real nursing, there is a definite value in what they do, and it's certainly no easy task to do it.

Getting a Better Understanding of Schizophrenia

Frank Visco — Sun, 09 Sep 2012 00:58:00 GMT

I’m only two weeks into this semester, my fourth in a seven-semester program, and I can already tell it will be the most challenging to date. I’m taking on two clinical classes for the first time, which means two hospitals and twice the amount of lab hours. Overall, my two classes amount to 10 credits, which is funny to me, because as a full-time Communication undergrad I actually had one semester with only 12 credits and that was without a day job (boy, life was easy at 21).

I’m taking Mental Health and Pediatrics this time out, and the plan is to do seven weekends in a psych hospital followed by seven weekends in a children’s hospital. My psych rotation starts next weekend, but in preparation for it, my school had us watch a slew of videos and hosted discussions on various ways to treat and care for psych patients. In many ways it was a slog to sit through (I don’t care what the topic is, eight hours of videos and discussion is rough, and you can double down on that when the topic can be as depressing as psych can sometimes get).

That said, it was definitely a worthwhile experience, and one of the videos, the 2006 documentary Out of the Shadows, was so moving that I felt compelled to blog about it.

Directed by Susan Smiley, Out of the Shadows chronicles the trials and tribulations the filmmaker and her family experience related to her mother Millie’s paranoid schizophrenia. It looks at both the personal issues faced by the Smiley family, as well as offering a critique on the madness of the public health system.

The documentary, which aired on PBS six years ago, is undeniably powerful and it certainly gave me a new perspective on paranoid schizophrenia. My only prior experience with the disease was through the filter of A Beautiful Mind, which was certainly moving, but Hollywood-ized. Seeing the real story of the Smileys, the pain on their faces, and, in some instances, the dignity Millie is sometimes able to muster… it took my understanding to a whole new level.

Frankly, I can’t get the film out of my mind, and I think it was a great primer for my upcoming clinical, as well as a viewing experience I’d recommend to anyone. For a bit more on the film, check out this article on the National Alliance for Mental Illness Web site.

Caring for Dementia Patients

Frank Visco — Fri, 27 Jul 2012 20:29:00 GMT

I’ve been working on a geriatric floor this semester, and although it provides diverse all-purpose care, many of my patients have had one common element -- dementia.

Dementia is never what actually brings my patients into the hospital. Instead, the admitting complaint is usually something like chest pain, cancer complications, or cellulitis. However, dementia usually becomes the key issue I end up addressing as a student nurse.

Oddly, I was thinking about making dementia the focus of this week’s blog post when I discovered this article on the ADVANCE site earlier this week. It’s a really nice reflection by recent graduate Raysha Monel in which she discusses how her experience with dementia patients has inspired her to pursue a career as a geriatric nurse practitioner (I suggest checking it out).

Like Raysha, I have enjoyed my time taking care of dementia patients. Yes, it can be sad seeing a man struggle to remember his wife’s name or stare blankly at a ringing phone, unsure of how to answer it or what it even does. And it can be even worse seeing the reactions of family members – the devastation on the faces of some, the broken down and frustrated apathy in the actions of others.

Nevertheless, I believe caring for dementia patients has been quite rewarding. Obviously, they can get frustrated, confused and/or depressed due to feelings of isolation, but I’ve found it really makes a difference if you take the time to comfort them with some nonjudgmental care, a ready smile, and an attentive ear.

I’m not sure I ultimately want to end up in geriatric nursing myself, but I definitely see the appeal of it. Although they may not be cognizant of it 100 percent of the time, dementia patients still have dignity, and working to help them uphold it is a truly worthwhile endeavor.