A Letter to The View

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Joy, Michelle, and your coworkers at The View,

Like most nurses, I was upset when I heard about the comments you made regarding Kelley Johnson and the nursing profession. Joining with my colleagues, I applaud Kelley for showing that the ability to be a compassionate and thorough nurse is not only a talent, but a gift and a calling.

There are several reasons why I felt led to become a nurse, but I was greatly influenced by the nurses who cared for my grandparents during their last weeks of life. My grandmother was hospitalized in a critical care unit on Christmas and as a family, we knew this would be her last. At the time, I was still in elementary school and the critical care unit had a strict visitation policy, which restricted children from being on the unit. My grandmother's nurse knew how important it was to our family for me to have one last moment with her. The nurse came up with a plan and for a few brief minutes, I was able to cherish one last Christmas memory with my grandmother. To this day, the time I was able to spend with my grandmother is one of the greatest Christmas gifts I have ever received.

We all know that there has been a lot of commentary regarding the doctor's stethoscopeâ€ that Kelley was wearing during her monologue. While I couldn't do my job without a stethoscope, I would like to draw more attention to the incredible ability of a nurse to use his or her eyes, ears, and heart to assess their patients. I work on a specialized oncology unit, where patients are often separated from their loved ones for months at a time. Like the unit my grandmother was on, we have a very strict visitation policy and many patients must go through painful, frightening chemotherapy protocols without their support systems by their side. As a nurse, I often find myself holding a patient's hand, providing encouragement, and celebrating even a minor improvement, while being careful to avoid giving false hope. When a patient is transitioned to comfort care and is no longer able to communicate with me, I look for facial grimacing and labored breathing and listen for grunting or moaning to determine if my patient is in pain and needs an increased rate of IV pain medicine.

I am in my mid twenties and I have had patients who could have been my classmates transitioned to hospice care. I have also seen a toddler say goodbye to his daddy for the last time. When I go home after work, I cannot shrug these experiences off my shoulders. These patients become my friends and my family; I mourn and grieve with them during the darkest moments of their lives.

It is part of the calling of a nurse that enables us to sacrifice holidays and special memories with our family and friends so that we can care for your loved ones. We often go hours without taking a break or eating so that we can ensure our patients have the medications and interventions that they need to keep them safe and healthy.

This weekend I will work my last shifts as a bedside nurse. Due to an orthopedic issue, I can no longer handle the physical demand that comes with the job that I love. While I will still have patient contact with my new job, I doubt I will get to share those precious moments with patients- where we can laugh, cry, and hug each other like we have been friends all of our lives.

While a heartfelt apology would be welcome, I challenge each of you to get to know a nurse. Sit in on a pathophysiology lecture at a local nursing school. Provide a holiday meal for nurses at your local hospital. But more than anything, remember to be grateful for your own health and for the nurses who have made sacrifices so that you and your loved ones can receive safe healthcare.

Rachel, RN