Those Overly Exaggerating Nursing Stories

[Cvepo]

Do you ever read those stories from nurses that completely play up and skew what nursing actually is for the sake of an article? I see them now and again and I distinctly remember them all over the place during that stupid "doctor's stethoscope" debacle. You know, the articles that go something like:

"I am a NURSE. I've HELD A DYING WOMAN'S HAND while simultaneously SWADDLING A NEWBORN. All while I've been HOLDING MY PEE FOR 22 HOURS." And then there's like a stock photo of a newborn with like 12 IV pumps.

But seriously, does anyone know those articles? The ones your nurse friends post on Facebook that make you shake your head because they were clearly written by someone who was upset that someone said something insulting about nursing that they feel the need to validate their career by exaggerating the profession?

Yeah, they drive me crazy, and I feel weird that I can't relate to them. I roll my eyes everytime I see them, and yet I feel guilty if I don't "Like" the post. Am I ashamed to be a nurse? Not at all. Nurses do amazing work and we help people everyday. But I really get annoyed at how these posts over-exaggerate our profession. Does anyone else have any thoughts on this, or am I just a jerk for feeling this way?

[amoLucia]

NSIME - Holding my breath until the next exciting chapter.

Tell me, sister. Were you ever a fan of the old vampire soap "Dark Shadows" with Barnabas Collins? There's been a weekend DS-thon. How campy now, but back in 1966, 67, 68, I couldn't get off the school bus to get home fast enough. For that and then General Hospital.

American Bandstand and Mickey Mouse Club were earlier.

[No Stars In My Eyes]

[ATTACH=CONFIG]25130[/ATTACH]

He's referring to the first love of his life:

"Fa-bi-o".

By jinkys, I believe you are correct, Mr.D! Thank you!

[No Stars In My Eyes]

amoLu, Earlier in my childhood we sometimes watched day time tv, but that was things like Art Linkletter'x House Party and before that Arthur Godfrey's show.

In the following years tv didn't seem to exist during the day. We were all busy either outdoors, or reading or playing with the monstrously HUGE paper-doll collections. Playing with the paper-dolls consisted of laying out all of them in groups/families, and if there was a discarded, out-of-date Sears or Montgomery-Ward catalog, we'd go through those and cut out models to extend the families further. As a teen, it was de rigeur (?) to listen to WBZ radio in case Jefferson Kaye made reference to us (Gary LaPierre's fan club), and, of course, to listen to Gary and Jefferson shoot the breeze after the news was read.

So, in essence, while I was aware of Dark Shadows, no, I never did watch it. My mother was too busy in her 2nd-hand and Antiques shop to watch any soaps, so tv was seldom on until later in the evening, IF one of our favorite shows was in the schedule. It wasn't just on, it was on for a particular reason. Otherwise, all of us being big readers, we were sitting in the living room together, but with our noses buried in books.

Back this afternoon to rewrite the episode that the computer ate at 2 AM . . .

[No Stars In My Eyes]

PS, , amoLu! Referencing your other post on another thread, "GIT THOSE DAM YOUNG'IN'S OUTTA MY CORNFIELDS!"

There are no cornfields on the group of islands upon which the story is currently playing out. And actually I have yet to figure out how to tie nursing into it, so....I'm gonna need some help with nursing and technical "stuff", because since I ain't used it, I have losed it!

But, I will be back shortly, to resume with the "lost episode" . . .

[AutumnApple]

To Autumn - I think I basically agree with you. So many images conveyed seem to profess a noble, exalted, self-sacrificing attitude that even Saint Mother Theresa would find difficult to uphold (NOTE - I am NOT speaking little of St Mother Theresa).

Thing is - those old-timey nurses really did give up lives of wealth and comfort to persevere under most severe and horrendous conditions. And they did lead austere, personal lives. Also, they did expect similar lifestyles by their followers.

And then there was the time in nsg's early history, when women caregivers were dredged from the lowest dredges of society as they were mostly prostitutes (pretty much up until the Civil War). Hence much of the sexpot, snarky history of nsg.

As nsg moved into more recent times, developing nsg diploma schools (and early nurses) were the product of many a Catholic or other religious order. So those images of devotional, sacrificing women persisted (and to some degree, the snarky 'wanton woman' image.

There really hasn't been anyone to champion the nsg image except ourselves. The healthcare industry profits keeping us in place. That women have made some inroads into medicine and law enforcement kind of surprises me. And I have a whole theory re the field of education.

It makes my hair curl when someone posts here "I LOOOOOVE nsg" or "I want to care for pts" and "make an impact on their lives". The best comes when someone accuses another nurse of "not being compassionate and caring" and shouldn't be a nurse anymore".

What we're writing here is PURE DRIVEL. Dramatic, phoney-baloney overly romantic pulp mush. To the Nth degree! And I hope, we all know it!

I gotta' tell you, though, it is a hoot to write all the flowery stuff. And propos to NSIME for her breathtaking continuation of the storyline. Your entry far surpasses mine!

"The Lady with the Lamp" is still considered one of our profession's greatest nurses, the "founder" of modern nursing. Her work *is* truly great. But continuing to allow her to be the poster child of nursing is hurting us more than it is helping us.

F. Nightingale embodies the ascetic values the general public and powers that be wish for us to exude. She left a comfortable, well to do, set up life to (ugh) follow a calling. She made nursing her lifestyle, not a career. She did a great deal of volunteer work, often having to beg for donations just to get the clinics she was in charge of to be able to run (clinics that she was asked to run mind you..........asked by the same people who she had to beg for funding. How's that for proof of how some things never change?).

Whenever we as a profession steer away from this "for the calling, would do it just to feel closer to the spiritual light of................" pathway, we're treated like evil sirens who've come to feed off the sickly.

While Florence most certainly propelled nursing forward, the image of her that the general public has is simply toxic. I am confident saying said image hurts the profession more than her contributions have helped it (at this point anyway).

It's a failure on our part though. We should have dozens of new, more recent heroes to take up the "poster child" mantle since Florence but, we've produced none.

I just think it's time to graduate from the lamp to at least a flash light if not something else that matches modern nursing more.

[No Stars In My Eyes]

The man took the flashlight from the table and shone it's weak light upon my face, then down my trembling body, before coming back to my face. The sound of the deep, warm voice I feared I would never hear again made my knees buckle. I had been hanging tightly, my knuckles white with the strain, on to the back of a chair. I sat suddenly , and then the words he had spoken penetrated, confusing me. It wasn't the first words I'd been expecting or hoping him to say.

"Do you have electricity in this place?"

I sat in silence, but my mind was racing. Didn't he recognize me? Had I changed so much during the six years we'd been apart? In the dim light, my hungry eyes traveled his face. I remembered that strong square chin, the aqualine nose that gave him such a noble profile, his dark, thickly-lashed grey eyes, those neatly set ears, the curly, tousled hair that dipped forward over his brow. And those broad shoulders that always made me catch my breath, those strong, well-muscled arms I longed to have hold me in his embrace. He spoke again, with soft kindness in his tone.

"Do you speak English?"

I could say nothing. I didn't know where to start. I thought of our first meeting, his pain, the long dark hallways at the hospital, where I could hear him say my name over all the ambient sounds of a hospital ward at night, the connection we'd felt. He cleared his throat,

"English?"

I flushed with embarrassment and stuttered out haltingly, "The, um, the gen-generators are t-turned off at nine. O'clock, that is. We, uh, have to conserve the fuel that runs them." I couldn't think clearly. I was stunned by his presence. What was he doing here? WHY was he here?

He nodded solemnly. "I see." he said, and as he spoke those two words, the flashlight battery died and we were plunged into darkness. He chuckled softly and at the sound, my insides melted as if I had just swallowed a shot of whiskey.

"I suppose I should introduce myself properly," he said, "My name is Peter Richards Quillingsly, but my friends call me 'Quill'. You may call me that as well, for I feel we are going to become good friends."

"Quillingsly?" I thought with a shock, "But no, your name is Richard Peters Quillingsly!" I thought I wasn't hearing him correctly. I still could not find any words.

As he asked me, "And you are....? Your name, please?", my heart sunk with despair. He didn't know me. Although I was sure it was HIM. I knew it was not him. What was going on here?

Finally finding my voice, I said "Richard Peters Quillingsly?" and he laughed again, this time with some bitterness.

"No, I am Peter Richards Quillingsly. Richard is my twin brother."

My mouth dropped open, I blinked rapidly. I was glad it was dark and he could not see my expression. I'm sure I was gaping like a fish unable to breath the air.

My hands began to shake and I managed to ask him what bungalow he was going to be staying in. He mentioned the name of the little cottage right next to mine. Oh my Lord!

I told him I'd show him the way to his quarters, and as I moved past him to lead the way, he took my hand in his large warm hand. My heart leaped. He said."I'm afraid I can't see my way very well in the dark; lead the way." We stepped out into the light ocean breeze, the sound of waves now murmuring in the distance. He spoke again, "Oh, yes, I think I'm really going to like it here."

I had to smile.

[amoLucia]

To Autumn - I agree. And I esp like your post's last paragraph. It's funny but as I was reading posts, it spurred me to do some research on nsg pioneers. I was stumped on the name of one of my favs, Dorothea Dix. I found quite a few sites that were interesting short biographies.

You are right that those nurses almost all had to fight for the resources & supporters (economic & political) they so sorely needed. In my readings I was amazed at the variety of personal backgrounds and the varied personal 'causes' that were covered. Some were among 'the rich and famous' for their day; some I don't remember but many I did remember their names from long-ago school readings (back in the day when History of Nursing was a real class first semester).

It's got me thinking about doing something more along research/reading. Have to keep thinking about that.

[No Stars In My Eyes]

I find time to pee because I have time management skills.

I would've loved to have a button pin that said this, to wear when I worked at the hospital. But then I realized . . . management probably would've made me take it off.