Time and time again, I see threads on this site along the lines of, "How could nurses be that way?"
It seems many people, the general public, and students especially, believe that nurses are bastions of compassion, love, caring, sugar, spice and everything nice. Nurses are supposed to be infallible care-giving superheroes, called by a higher power to spread goodness, love, fairy dust and medication all over the world, 24/7. Nurses are supposed to be nurse-like when they're at home, at the grocery store, at the library, at dinner parties, driving on the freeway, and even when they're patients themselves. In other words, nurses are supposed to be saints.
I too once harbored feelings like this even while I was working closely with nurses as a CNA. I had the privilege of working in a skilled nursing facility on the NOC shift with several of the most fantastic nurses I've ever met. They took great care of their patients, showing compassion to and helped maintain the dignity of their infirm patients. They gently guided cranky doctors (it was the NOC shift...) into making appropriate decisions for their patients. They made no mistakes that I saw, and they did it all with patience and with a great sense of humor. In my eyes, they could do no wrong. They were my inspiration to continue my education and become a nurse.
Until one day, my favorite nurse wasn't there for her shift and a new nurse was in her place. I asked around, and it turned out she had been fired for diverting narcotics. My favorite nurse, in all her saintly glory, had been stealing pain medication from sick people and even using it during her shift, right under my nose. I had no idea at the time, although I was later able to connect the dots between her behavior and the accusations leveled against her.
I couldn't believe I was so naive to believe her behavior was because she was sleepy.
I thought I knew the warning signs of drug abusers. She had even participated in the investigation of another nurse's possible diversion, and spearheaded new initiatives to combat drug diversion in the facility. My hero worship of nurses had blinded me to the obvious.
Let me tell you, the process of disillusionment is a lot like the grief process. I even took it a little bit personally; I felt that she had let me down. I looked up to her, and she fell off the pedestal where I'd placed her. To me, she was a fallen angel.
I was still in this process, without being aware of it, when I went to nursing school. I knew I was going to be a "true nurse," who acts only the best interests of my patients, and all of humankind, all the time. Lofty aspirations to be sure, but I knew I could do it. I felt like I was made to be a nurse, and I was going to be the best nurse the world had ever seen. I was putting myself on that pedestal my hero nurse had fallen from.
I flew right through nursing school with flying colors. All of my instructors, even the most difficult to please, told me I was going to make a great nurse. I was driven to be great. I was going to provide sound medical advice for my family and friends. I was going to heal the world... HA!
Then I started working as a nurse and found out pretty quickly that falling off that pedestal hurts. I was sure my first medication error was a harbinger of doom. I believed I was a terrible nurse to make such a horrible mistake. I had no right being in the realm of "true nurses," because I was not perfect.
I cried in my DNS's office.
I mentally beat myself up for days.
I dreaded going to work because I was scared of making another mistake. My DNS finally called me into her office for a little chat. What she said snapped me out of my little pity party.
She said, "You made a mistake. No harm was done to the patient. You reported the error yourself and took responsibility for your actions. Every nurse makes medication errors and other mistakes from time to time. WE ARE NOT PERFECT. WE ARE HUMAN. Learn from your mistake, try not to do it again, and move on."
It was a ridiculously simple sentiment and absolutely true. I can't say that my hero worship of nurses ended at that very moment, but working as a nurse for a couple years definitely did.
That we nurses are fallible humans is a fact. Some of us are smart, some of us are incredibly stupid. Some of us are very professional, some of us are not. Some of us have baggage that carries over into our work life. Some of us have disabilities. Some of us have problems at home. Some of us have issues that lead us to make poor decisions and may hurt others. Some of us, however abominable it may be, enjoy hurting others. Some of us treat people like crap, patient, student, coworker, family or friend. All of us make mistakes.
Most of us are good people, trying to make a living caring for others. We do a job most of society doesn't want to do.
The general public doesn't want to recognize that nurses represent a cross section of humanity that runs on a spectrum from spectacular to truly awful. Nobody wants to believe that we are just as human as they are. We are held to an impossible standard by society; We're all supposed to be perfect Florence Nightingales.
Part of this is understandable because people have to trust us with their lives and it makes people feel more comfortable to believe they are putting their trust in someone who must be perfect. But the standard leaves no room for our essential humanity. When we make mistakes, we are vilified because we could not meet that impossible standard.
I don't think this article is going to save anyone from experiencing the let down and disillusionment that comes with realizing that nurses are not superheroes or angels of mercy. That's something everyone has to find out on their own. But hopefully it will help some realize that we are only human, and that we can be good nurses despite our foibles.
