In nursing, there is an unspoken rule that I break frequently. Do not get emotionally involved. We are to ride the line between the two extremes of callousness and "emotionally involved." If you have ever been to the hospital or even the Dr's office, you find nurses who clearly are beyond enjoying their job. They do not seem to care about their patients - they finish their tasks and refuse to engage with their patients beyond a surface level. I would call this callousness. In the ER this type of nurse seems to abound. I have tried to keep myself in a good balance - while it is true that it would be difficult emotionally for me to carry everything I see home, I think there are situations where if I don't get emotionally involved, I can't really identify with my patients.
On Monday, I broke the rule. In fact, I shattered it. I got WAY emotionally involved. It was about 12:30pm and I was very busy with 3 patients and learned I would receive another patient shortly from EMS(someone called 911 to be brought in). I got to the bedside about 10 minutes after she arrived (other nurses had started my work for me) and my initial human reaction was to be slightly disgusted. My 24-year old female patient was overweight, had minimal hair on her head but many dark hairs on her face; she had radiation burns, her teeth looked like they had not been brushed in a month and her odor was repulsive. She smelled of vomit and sweat. I dismissed all of these things and started talking to her. I found out she has cancer all over her body and that she was just diagnosed in Dec. She is taken care of by her mother, who is morbidly obese, so she does not leave her house. She cannot walk or control when she has to go to the bathroom. She is 24 years old. Dying of cancer. And I cannot stop thinking about her.
Over the next 6 hours, I tried to do my best to make her comfortable. She was in a tremendous amount of pain and I medicated her constantly. I held her hand as she cried and screamed in pain. I fiercely advocated for more pain medicine, options to make her more comfortable and orders from her cancer dr. I asked her if I could wash her face, clean her mouth or wet her lips. She did not want any of it - she told me she just wanted the pain to go away and I felt my heart break. It was the one thing I could not do.
I spoke with her mom several times on the phone and when her mom found out she was to be admitted, I cried with her mom. She told me her daughter's birthday was Wed and she had planned a surprise party for her after her Chemo. My patient was not going to be at her surprise party. This is her last birthday and she will not have a party. Her mom also told me she would not be able to visit her daughter and I heard myself boldly asking if there was anyone else who could come. I told her mom I did not want her to have to be alone. I could not bear the thought of this sweet girl, suffering in pain in her hospital bed with no one at her side comforting her.
As I shared about this patient with a friend over lunch yesterday, she asked me if I told my patient about Jesus. I said no. Later, on a run, I was praying for my patient and thinking about her and the Lord reminded me of something. I may not have spoken the words about Jesus to this girl, but I DID share Jesus with her. I was Jesus' hands. I showed her love and compassion from Jesus. My heart broke for her, just as Jesus' heart breaks as he sees one of his little girls in pain and suffering. So, did I share Jesus with her? Yes, I did. And I do not regret getting emotionally involved.