rnsheri

It's terrible, but true. In school, we had research groups of six, and two of us did everything. Not saying others didn't contribute, but the two of us liked getting things done early. Other group members had children and that complicated things, schedule-wise. In fact, there were a million schedule conflicts, be it kids, jobs, family, school, etc. All I can day is that the madness ends! I love my work team, but BSN group projects are not missed. I would get the good grade, vent, and move on. It's not fair or right, but thank God it's behind me!

You are absolutely right. Thank you for the insight and the article.

OK, OK. OP, you're right. Not your job. The benefit to the patient's well-being is supported scientifically. One tidbit: "An interesting bit of science attached to this ethnocentric and geocentric evolution of prayer comes out of Duke University Medical Center, where a study found that, within a group of 150 cardiac patients who received alternative post-operative therapy treatment, the sub-group who also received intercessory prayer (they were prayed for) had the highest success rate within the entire cohort." https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/enlightened-living/201007/the-science-psychology-and-metaphysics-prayer "The Science, Psychology, and Metaphysics of Prayer." Religion, Spirituality, and Health: The Research and Clinical Implications Many more studies support this. But if you believe your ethical principles trump a possible improvement of patient well-being, you must have some very good reasons that I have no way of comprehending. I like science, and I am an atheist, but I want to do what is in my power to (possibly) improve outcomes. In the end--nope, not your job. Carry on. Shh... I don't pray either. I Kind of just support in silence. (Bonus: When a family member faints from emotional exhaustion, I'm there to help.) I wonder if they'll fire me.

I heard there's good money in welding. You shouldn't be a mortician. Live families and all, and contempt for the dead. Maybe a bounty hunter. Or mathematician.

My name is Unnamed-Respiratory-Therapist. I happened upon a tribe of healthcare providers in a peculiar state. I am documenting this to document it later on a supercool computer program that is completely inefficient and outdated. I don't know when it happened. I'm calling it the Fever. The symptoms are hysteria, depression, feelings of worthlessness, delusions, gastric disturbances, and the inability to get anything done. The hospital has tricked us into thinking the new grads did it. I know better. I'm on Generic Hospital Floor. In the HR office, someone is suffering from the Fever. I hear the sniffles and nose-blowing. Ah, yes. Classic. Shh. I hear talking. I know that voice—New Grad. Well, Christy said I'm slow and stupid, and then Cathy laughed. And that sneaky old nurse keeps telling me I have to accept different personalities even if they differ from mine! She never said or did anything to me, ever, but when that [hot word] tech said, 'You're welcome', the tone was kind of insulting." Sobbing. I feel a surge of empathy for New Grad. I wonder how it must feel? To always think people are out to get you? Common delusions, textbook. Another voice, Not-Manager-Material—Very good, get it out, poor baby. It's OK.” Quick pause. Sweetheart, I need names. Lots of names. Tell me everyone who has wronged you or might someday hurt your feelings.” It goes like that. The Fever-ridden encourage one another, but will turn on each other later. It's only a matter of time. Slowly, the hospital unit will fail apart because all the Fever-ridden will destroy each other. The COB's will be the last to fall, but they too must succumb to the raw emotion characteristic of the fever. Curse you, young whipper-snappers!” is their final battle cry. The patients were saved, thanks to the fact that no nurse or tech could be in their rooms at the time since they were fighting each other in the halls. All managerial positions are mysteriously vacant. Their absences are being investigated half-heartedly. Nurses from another unit are being pulled to cover the shifts of the fallen. The Fever is very contagious. I need to get out of here. As I go, I hear the common cry of the Fever—I mean, this is just med-surg. Does night shift just sit on their butts all night?” It's an epidemic.

Be polite. Be professional. People have a lot of feelings. Most don't make sense to me. However strange those feelings may be, we live in a society that encourages people to report those feelings. I don't know why feeling-sharing is a thing, but so many places love hearing how a person feels upset because of some perceived slight. Whatever slight (imagined or real) the tech felt that you committed, say you're sorry, and don't do it again if you like your job.

Of all the problems with my crazy job, I never once thought, "You know what would enhance my patient's safety... yellow gowns." This knowledge is beyond my comprehension. I would've stupidly asked for more nurses and support staff, better equipment, competent management, or less mandatory overtime.

I agree, you build up a tolerance!

I am in a world of shame. I must've been in the accelerated COB class. I've been here three years, which is no kind of street cred! You guys left me with THEM, the new ones with big ol hearts and feelings. I feel like the King of the Cuckoos.

Yes. I started IV's on fellow nursing students, too. I mean, in class the instructors emphasized empathy and understanding what a patient is going through during a procedure. We were given kits and IV NS and were told that IV skills are important for our future careers as nurses. Then they tell us not to practice on each other. How crazy is that? In all seriousness it was very messy.

I have fun with it. In my sweetest Southern drawl, "Oh hon, you don't want to hug me. I just treated my neighbor for head lice." That fixes it forever. Bonus: you get to watch the person itch all day. I mean, there's respectfully asserting your feelings in a calm, rational way too.

I had the meanest nurse ever for my trainer at my first job. I mean, she didn't even care if I was nervous about calling the doctor at 2 a.m.-- "Just call the **** doctor, girl!" She never sugar-coated anything! If I did something incorrectly, that COB would tell me I did something incorrectly. She wouldn't sweeten her criticism with "honey" or "sweetheart". She never even cared when I told her, "The textbook says..." She rolled her eyes when I told her I didn't want to disturb a patient because he was sleeping. ROLLED HER EYES, can you believe it? Unbelievable. She actually made me LEARN things. Horrible woman. COB!

I clock in, I am "X", RN. Problems at home? Shut it off. Angry at a coworker? Shut it off. My personal feelings about religion? NOT RELEVANT, SHUT IT OFF.

You have choices. You can either confront him with "OK, you seem pissed at me, and I don't know why, but I'm tired of this so let me know and we'll go from there." Or use those therapeutic communication techniques if you need to, but those never worked for me in a situation like yours. Or you can pretend to ignore him, though that might compromise patient care. You could talk to the charge about it, but I would address him first. Whatever you do don't sound condescending. The great therapeutic communication techniques you learned in nursing school may irritate coworkers. I always go for direct. And unless he is threatening you, talking down to you, or ignoring you to the detriment of your patient, he's more of a aggravation than a terrorist. I would be careful with those kind of words. But that's just me and honestly I don't know what he's said or done to you. Some people perceive a slight that isn't there or isn't what was intended. Best of luck to you!

From working as a floor nurse, I heard that about psych nursing... From all the people who said they would never go into psych nursing. Every kind of specialty has it's own good and bad qualities. Of course, I have heard the same about floor nurses from ICU, ICU from floor nurses, etc. I loved my psych rotations, I loved the patients, but the nurses looked kind of like they hated it. Patients banged at the plexiglass at the nurses' station, demanding this med or that privilege. They sang, cursed, threw chairs, and were just mean at times. This was expected but wasn't something I wanted to do for a career. I hated the closed off station, the annoyed nurses, and the whole set-up. I wouldn't be able to be a hands on help to those people. Not behind a glass! Facilities vary, and in my state mental health is very wanting. If you love psych, do psych! Just remember that nursing isn't all about skills. Skills are easy. I learned most of mine when I got a job and not in school. You can't teach patience, or kindness, or that rare ability to not cry after your patient calls you a c***. It's a skill! You will be fine!