No Longer a Nursing Student
After working forty hours in the hospital this week, I am finding myself physically and
emotionally exhausted. Hospital culture as we knew it to be a couple months ago has completely shifted. A normal day on my unit used to consist of the controlled chaos you would expect on a typical Medical-Surgical floor, but now the atmosphere has changed to one of nervousness and uncertainty. Nurses are scared, techs are scared, physical therapists are scared, I am scared. The halls are silent, the echoes of visitor and volunteer voices and footsteps no longer linger in the hallways; It is almost as if these sounds have been replaced with the silent yet overtaking voice of fear.
The way I have cared for my patients since the COVID-19 outbreak has changed drastically. Prior to COVID-19, I was not nervous or hesitant to walk into a patient’s room. If a patient needed to be put on precautions, we already knew and were made aware. We had plenty of personal protective equipment (PPE) to keep us safe as we worked and were able to complete our jobs efficiently and effectively. Now, things are different. I walk into a patient’s room extremely cautious. Cautious if a patient is positive for COVID-19, but no screening was completed, and I am just being exposed all day without PPE. Cautious in the fact that I am allotted one mask and gown per day. Worried and confused when I hear that we may have to resort to bandanas and scarfs to protect us from a virus who shows no mercy on the body. Empirical knowing tells me that this is not a safe practice for infection control, and it will not keep me safe from the diseases that carry on my supplies, yet I am told to keep working.
I miss the warm atmosphere I strived to create during my shifts. “Wow, it is so nice to be greeted this early in the morning to that beautiful smile on your face!” the patients would say. But times have changed. “Hi, my name is Tatiana, I’ll be caring for you today” said the girl in worn out scrubs and wrinkled surgical mask. “How are you this morning?” is what I ask next. “In pain”, “feeling better”, “excited to go home”, these are all common phrases I would hear prior to COVID-19. Now, I only receive one common answer; “scared, I am scared”. Me too, I thought to myself.
“Tatiana, float to ER, you will be performing initial COVID-19 screenings today” is what I heard over the phone a couple days ago as I got called into work. I felt a lump form in my throat, but I knew now was not the time to be afraid. I took my mask for the day and proceeded to spend twelve hours in the ER. I saw a vast array of sick people. We tend to forget in times like these that there are other patients who are sick and in need of care who have nothing to do with this pandemic. I saw several patients come in who were positive for COVID-19. It was apparent, the first responders came off of the ambulance dressed in full PPE. I worried at first, sitting there in my surgical mask. Would I be protected? Will I get sick? But I knew in that moment I had to push my fears aside and be authentically present for the patient who was visibly as frightened on the outside as the rest of us were on the inside.
emotionally exhausted. Hospital culture as we knew it to be a couple months ago has completely shifted. A normal day on my unit used to consist of the controlled chaos you would expect on a typical Medical-Surgical floor, but now the atmosphere has changed to one of nervousness and uncertainty. Nurses are scared, techs are scared, physical therapists are scared, I am scared. The halls are silent, the echoes of visitor and volunteer voices and footsteps no longer linger in the hallways; It is almost as if these sounds have been replaced with the silent yet overtaking voice of fear.
The way I have cared for my patients since the COVID-19 outbreak has changed drastically. Prior to COVID-19, I was not nervous or hesitant to walk into a patient’s room. If a patient needed to be put on precautions, we already knew and were made aware. We had plenty of personal protective equipment (PPE) to keep us safe as we worked and were able to complete our jobs efficiently and effectively. Now, things are different. I walk into a patient’s room extremely cautious. Cautious if a patient is positive for COVID-19, but no screening was completed, and I am just being exposed all day without PPE. Cautious in the fact that I am allotted one mask and gown per day. Worried and confused when I hear that we may have to resort to bandanas and scarfs to protect us from a virus who shows no mercy on the body. Empirical knowing tells me that this is not a safe practice for infection control, and it will not keep me safe from the diseases that carry on my supplies, yet I am told to keep working.
I miss the warm atmosphere I strived to create during my shifts. “Wow, it is so nice to be greeted this early in the morning to that beautiful smile on your face!” the patients would say. But times have changed. “Hi, my name is Tatiana, I’ll be caring for you today” said the girl in worn out scrubs and wrinkled surgical mask. “How are you this morning?” is what I ask next. “In pain”, “feeling better”, “excited to go home”, these are all common phrases I would hear prior to COVID-19. Now, I only receive one common answer; “scared, I am scared”. Me too, I thought to myself.
“Tatiana, float to ER, you will be performing initial COVID-19 screenings today” is what I heard over the phone a couple days ago as I got called into work. I felt a lump form in my throat, but I knew now was not the time to be afraid. I took my mask for the day and proceeded to spend twelve hours in the ER. I saw a vast array of sick people. We tend to forget in times like these that there are other patients who are sick and in need of care who have nothing to do with this pandemic. I saw several patients come in who were positive for COVID-19. It was apparent, the first responders came off of the ambulance dressed in full PPE. I worried at first, sitting there in my surgical mask. Would I be protected? Will I get sick? But I knew in that moment I had to push my fears aside and be authentically present for the patient who was visibly as frightened on the outside as the rest of us were on the inside.
I left my shift exhausted. That seems to be a common theme now a days. The usual physical exhaustion from running around all day is always present, but this newfound constant emotional exhaustion was something that had only begun since the COVID-19 outbreak.
As I sat in my car, I saw a picture on my phone that triggered my aesthetic knowing. This picture showed a young woman wearing a graduation cap and surgical mask with tears flowing down her eyes. I believe it is crucial to find ways to cope during stressful situations and this picture helped me to process everything going on.
Looking at the picture, I immediately thought of myself. The graduation cap signified how I am about to graduate nursing school and enter into the “RN world”. I am excited and eager to begin this journey I have worked four years to complete. The tears represented my feelings since COVID-19 began. Many things have been taken from me; graduation, pinning ceremony, conventions, receiving awards I worked tirelessly for, a dream immersion placement, the list goes on. However, the initial tears of sadness have turned into tears of fear. I am already on the other side. I am already in the hospital; I am already on the frontlines; I have already been exposed to COVID-19. The common nervousness new grads feel is now mixed with a fear of this pandemic.
I wake up every day not knowing if I will bring this home to my immunocompromised family. Wondering if it will get so bad that I will have to move out of my home. Wondering if we will fully run out of PPE. Wondering when the surge will hit. Wondering if it will take the life of a co-worker I love, or a friend. Wondering if it will even take me. But that seems to be the common theme of this all: wondering.
Even so, I put on my flimsy and soiled surgical mask and walk into the hospital with my head held high ready to care for my patients. I have one foot in my life as a nursing student and one foot in my upcoming reality; a nurse, ready to take on this next adventure. I believe with my entire being this is my calling. I am called to be a calming force in the midst of chaos, a shoulder to cry on in times of uncertainty, and a voice of reason when all else seems to be caving in.
The hospital culture will never be the same as it was prior to COVID-19. I will never be the same as I was before COVID-19. But this tribulation has made me stronger, wiser, and braver to stand up for myself and my patients during this time. So, I am ready. I am ready to walk into this pandemic in a few months as a registered nurse. I do not fear because I am already in the midst of this pandemic. I know that with God’s strength in me, the knowledge I will carry with me, and the attitude of bravery I will show to my patients, that I can and will be a force in this pandemic. It is time to take my fear and turn it into bravery. I no longer view myself as “just a nursing student,” I am, in fact, a nurse.
Even so, I put on my flimsy and soiled surgical mask and walk into the hospital with my head held high ready to care for my patients. I have one foot in my life as a nursing student and one foot in my upcoming reality; a nurse, ready to take on this next adventure. I believe with my entire being this is my calling. I am called to be a calming force in the midst of chaos, a shoulder to cry on in times of uncertainty, and a voice of reason when all else seems to be caving in.
The hospital culture will never be the same as it was prior to COVID-19. I will never be the same as I was before COVID-19. But this tribulation has made me stronger, wiser, and braver to stand up for myself and my patients during this time. So, I am ready. I am ready to walk into this pandemic in a few months as a registered nurse. I do not fear because I am already in the midst of this pandemic. I know that with God’s strength in me, the knowledge I will carry with me, and the attitude of bravery I will show to my patients, that I can and will be a force in this pandemic. It is time to take my fear and turn it into bravery. I no longer view myself as “just a nursing student,” I am, in fact, a nurse.
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| I would like to thank Martin Sam V. Perez, a fellow classmate and friend, who took the time to re-create the picture that prompted my time of reflection. He is an amazing artist. |
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