OneRN

I believe nursing would have less issues with "professionalism" if it had stayed with diploma schools and not pursued formal academic training. For instance, the diploma programs could have required a BSc before entering, then nursing school would be seen as advanced education--which it is. My ADN program was way tougher than anything I did in my first four years for my BSc.

Nursing is like hanging on a cross: It's true glory; It's true power; It can be real love for another human being, but it's not pretty, and it's not easy. If you truly hate practicing law, fine, but just make sure a career change is what you want to do. There's a whole lot of "different" out there, not necessarily a whole lot of "better." Sometimes life just sucks, or feels like it does, and we make changes thinking we know what the problem is never realizing it's just the same discontentment that everyone feels--especially around age 40. Good luck to you.

Nursing is the greatest profession in the world and the closest profession to the kingdom of God. Your actions have proven this to be the case. Good for you!

With all the horrors I experienced working in the dungeon (my first job as an aid in a nursing home) I can't believe we're having this conversation. When she takes something of value then worry about it. Right now, just focus on becoming a good nurse yourself. If that patient ran out of freakin tylenol, there'd be pleanty more.

I suggest becoming a nurse aid, unless you plan to become an RN and work exclusively in surgery. IMO.

Assuming this pt wasn't demented, I hope she gets what she deserves: a long death where in the end, everyone she knows has abandon her. But that's stupid, isn't it? I don't have to hope for anything. Everyone reaps what they sow in this life. It's as sure as any law of physics.

That gives me hope. Thank you.

I encourage everyone to read the letter from Stephanie Tate in this month's RN magazine. She describes how she once got caught ogling and comenting on a patients genitals while prepping him for surgery. She's obviously proud of it and the editor obviously finds it humorous enough to print. Below is the letter I sent to the editor. I encourage everyone else to do the same, or explain why you wouldn't. Ms. Ostrowski, Wouldn't you think a male nurse who commented on the quality of the genitals of a female patient getting prepped for surgery was a creep? Wouldn't you want to report a man like that to the state board of nursing? It's sick--isn't it? So, why do you publish letters from creepy old female nurses who comment on men's genitals while they're prepping them for surgery? I blame you more than I blame the creep nurse who wrote the letter, because you think it's funny enough to print in your "Question of the Month" column (see Stephanie Tate, "My urology patient that morning..." 07/04). Women nurses are sorely mistaken if they think the path to respect and power is had by acting like the sexually harassing men who subjugated them first. Welcome to the ranks of Larry Flint and Hugh Heffner, Ms. Ostrowski; you're a real credit to your gender. Now I think your magazine is a rag and I think you're responsible for that. I won't be renewing my subscription. Goodbye,

My preceptor is like that. She comes in on her days off when they call her. She's the type that always wants to please others. And while that may be a saintly quality, it's not good for her survival. I, myself, never have my phone on. If a person calls when I'm home from work, all they get is an answering machine I have through aol. In the morning, when I check my e-mail is when I see their message. I figure if a family member dies or something, they'll still be dead when I check my e-mail in the am--I won't miss anything. I do not answer my phone, unless I'm waiting for a call from someone.

I think the status of a nurse, and the good reputation they derive from the publics perception of them comes from the hard work they do. I talked to a registered dietician the other day on my floor. She has a masters degree. But who ever says, "Wow, those dieticians sure are great." I have an ADN. It's not education that makes nursing the most respected profession--the saintly profession. Its every insanely hard day you ever have. It's the fact that you do a job that almost everyone else knows they could never do. You say: Joe Blow, RD, and everyone says "huh?" "What's that?" You say, Joe Blow, R.N. and everyone everywhere in the world knows exactly what that means and they say, "Oh really?" Why do you think PhD nurses always make sure they put the RN in there at the end of their name as well? Because RN means a whole lot more than PhD. I will be an RN until I die, even if it kills me early, because I've found there is no higher thing to be. For most of my life, I thought there were many avenues to greatness, but now I know I was wrong. My ability to weather the hard days on the floor has sat me at the right hand of Power. To be a good nurse: one who listens, loves, cares, and is very good at his job, is more important to me than the existence of God. To be that thing transcends my need for purpose or eternal life. If I can be this thing--if I can become this thing--I can die and cease to exist, and I can be content with that. If I can become this thing, God can no longer judge me.

The instinct to care: in the form of the mother trying to nurse the child; in the form of the nurse helping her and being glad she didn't terminate the pregnancy. I see God in the mother, in the baby, and in you. Thank you for showing that to me today. I needed to see God, today.

Our level 1 started with 51, but only 22 of those 51 graduated at the end. Some quit, some didn't pass. Nursing school has a high drop out rate because it is extremely tough, academically and personally, or at least our school was. I strongly encourage you to think twice about going into nursing school if you are having trouble in A&P. I don't mean to be such a pessimist, and even though I did well in nursing school, I still find it difficult to recommend to others. Nursing is only a great career if you love it. I love it. But if it were just a job, it would be the worst thing in the world.

On the stepdown unit where I work, I wear surgical-style scrubs with the top tucked in. I just can't imagine wearing a uniform, especially a cap, to work.

I would like to add to what 3rdguyshift said, but I think he said it well. In fact, the same nurses that treated me like s*** when I was an aid on the floor now continue to treat me like S*** even though I'm one of their own--no big surprise there. I, too, am a new nurse in my first month of preceptorship. I find myself hypersensitive to rudeness, and that could make me think that some of the nurses eat their young, if I didn't know better. Unlike my preceptor, however, I'm not going to defend the rudeness, which she does all the time and it makes me sick. To her, the only people that are rude are the people that are rude to her. I don't count (See, there I go again being hypersensitive). Nevertheless, this is what I have experienced in the workplace and in every clinical I ever had: 50% percent are cool; 50% are rude, condescending, cold a**holes. But here's the thing: the ones who save the day are the ones who always seem to have a smile for me, the ones who are in good humor, the ones who readily answer a question--as if that question was actually important. I will strive very hard to be like them, because the power to be positive, and the influence that postivity has is leaps and bounds greater than the power of the negativeness.

Just reading your post, it sounds kind of like a general disillusionment with life. We keep thinking there's a goal, you know some kind of purpose toward which we are ultimately moving, and as life wears on, that purpose becomes like a mirage: the closer you get the farther away it is and the more it fades away. We end up with a nagging question that we try to stuff away and not look at: Is my life, my existence, all in vain? Is my life, ultimately, pointless? We try to learn in life; but to what end? What for? We try to love and be loved; but in the end it's all lost. We die; the ones we love die, and all that we love is taken from us. We try to help others; but they don't help themselves, and the need for our help never ends. We never accomplish any lasting help. We cannot end the cause of our depression, but we can end that which gets depressed. I'm a monist, so I believe that only God exists and everything else is a kind of dream-fiction. When I'm able to realize that my body, my image in the mirror, and even my mind (that is my self-talk, feelings fears, habits, desires, goals, personal memories, etc) are all as unreal as a character in one of my dreams, then I sense my true self which is God. And in that moment, all depression, fear, loss, existential angst, powerlessness and anger disappears as well. You see, God doesn't have a goal. Only we illusions have goals. God is eternal: never was created, and can never not exist. God just is; God lives in the eternal single moment. When you realize that, when your true self takes over your illusory self, then you won't feel bad anymore. Every moment will be the goal and the purpose for which you exist, and you will necessarily never die. Jesus said, if you hold on to your life you will lose it, but if you give up your life for my sake (if you become Christ, i.e., God in the form of Man, Son of Man, married to Christ, Christ in your heart, etc.) Then you will live forever. To help you, I suggest the following therapy: Read the four Gospels, one after the other, slowly over a period of six months or so. But when you are reading them keep this frame of mind: Jesus Christ = me as my higher self talking to the other characters (John, Peter, Nicodemus, etc) which represent my lower, illusory self. When you do that, it will feel as if the Gospel was written by you and for you, which it was. Second: Read Spinoza's "Ethics." You may only be able to read a paragraph at a time without falling asleep, but eventually it begins to make sense. Spinoza is the father, so to speak, of monism. Good luck.