Ahvegas

There may be a few people reading this who have never experienced bullying. But, I'm pretty sure every organization of every type, has had to address the subject on some level. Just read or watch the news and you'll see where victims of bullying act out as a last resort, sometimes, resulting in extreme cases of violence. As a nation, we had to fight to get where we are today, and we still employ the willingness to fight to stay there. Fighting is not new. However, in the workplace, it has apparently become so prevalent that policies have, and are being developed to deal with this issue. As a nurse, I've heard the phrase "eating our young" in so many leadership classes that it almost feels superfluous. I've been a nurse for 27 years and I ask myself 'how are we changing and growing as a profession if we're still discussing the same issues?' We identify it as an issue, but are we any closer to dealing with it? Does bullying play any part in job satisfaction or employee turnover? Do we owe it to our profession to look at these questions closer? I would like to direct myself today in a slightly different direction...instead of looking at how to stop it; I want to simply try to understand what it is. Can a person think they are always right? Do adults have bad moments and have adult temper tantrums? Does having a difficult personal situation cause someone to act out? I think the answer to all of these is quite simply, yes. But does feeling your always right, or having a bad day, or an occasional crying spell at work make you a bully? No. I have worked with many people who thought they were always right. Some of those people were very eloquent at explaining themselves, and I respect them for taking the time to explain. Does that make them a bully, no? In the ever-growing field of healthcare, change is inevitable. We all get frustrated at times, and we try to navigate the safest and most effective options for our clients. This frustration sometimes bleeds into their interactions with one another. Does that make them a bully, no? A quick I'm sorry or 'I get it' has fixed those hurt feelings easily. I myself have shed tears at work as I have a mother with Alzheimer's Disease. There have been times where the drive was too short from home to work, or my mom hadn't eaten for days without choking, that triggered those feelings of sadness, loss, and feeling overwhelmed. I'm fortunate because these are the moments my coworkers are my family and take care of me by offering me a hug, allowing me a crying spell in the bathroom, or just listening for a few minutes as I vent. Does that make me a bully, I certainly hope not. So what is a bully?Bully: a cruel and brutal fellow; be bossy towards; discourage or frighten with threats or a domineering manner; intimidate. I see the key words here being cruel and intimidating. Because bossy, really, I can live with; bossy: offensively self-assured or given to exercising usually unwarranted power. A person can easily be bossy without being a bully, it may be aggravating to deal with that on a daily basis but it is not something I personally would go home upset about. But cruel: able or disposed to inflict pain or suffering; and intimidate: to compel or deter if by threats. Wow! Those are powerful words! What drives a person to want to inflict pain or suffering in a threatening manner? Like seriously, who does that? And can you tell in an interview that they're like that? Or, if they're not 'like' that then, how do they become that? If we identify them, is there a potential to get them into classes about appropriate interactions and dealings with people. I think we need to recognize that there are people with great skill sets and poor people skills. How do we appropriately verbalize our concerns, or report bullying to a manager without coming across too 'soft' or too 'sensitive'? One time, I witnessed a coworker call another coworker an idiot, in a group, in a mental health facility, in front of patients. Talk about cruel, it totally undermined this persons authority as a healer. I have personally experienced bullying in my past, by a leader. As a leader, she was put in a position by our direct supervisor to mentor me and guide me. All of which she did none of! Actually, she did the opposite, she would set me up for failure, not speak to me, and physically separate me from the person I was to be directly shadowing. And when I did speak to my manager about it, my concerns were dismissed, saying I wasn't there long enough to have any "concerns". I quit that job. We've all read the research articles in our professional nursing journals stating being a victim of bullying can lead to depression, job dissatisfaction, psychosomatic and psychological concerns. When are we going to change our thinking from defensive to offensive? What can we do to foster a more supportive and nurturing environment for victims to speak up? As a profession, I feel we need to rethink how we deal with bullying. I feel we need to cast a wider net, not just look at how to handle the end result, but also how to identify it, how to report it, and most importantly, how to support its victims. We need our playgrounds back.

If I knew then what I know now....would I still have chosen nursing? I ask my self that more often, especially after seeing my daughter graduate nursing school and embark on her own nursing career. Is nursing the path I've chosen, or did it choose me? Was I destined to be a caregiver? Was it merely child's play when I "fixed" my babydolls, or was I foreshadowing my future? Is this a career that I would do over again knowing everything I do now? I think I always knew it would be an emotionally charged career, but, wow!, for this degree of pain, I was not prepared. The are the times I sneak into the bathroom to sob because I feel so overwhelmed, the mornings walking up to the hospital that I can't catch my breathe because I know today is the day we are discussing the test results with a family. I've made the chapel my first stop as I walk into our hospital. I ask God to bless my hands, my words, and to give me the strength to be everything everyone expects me to be. I also did not realize the physical toll it would take on me. I have come home after 12 hour shifts with my feet swollen, throbbing, and exhausted to the point of feeling delirious. I have been to a masseuse, an acupuncturist, and my family doctor because of my aching back, sore muscles and headaches for the stress that I carry in my neck. I have seen my hospital grow from a small community hospital to one that is world renowned. We challenge nurses with more and more difficult cases, and our expectations are for excellence. I am happy to be a part of a team that is excellent, and a hospital system that encourages nurses to grow professionally and holds bedside nurses in high regard. But this growth has not come with challenges. It can be exhausting. I have been unable to find the appropriate words at times when others ask "how can you do that?" To be perfectly honest, sometimes I don't know how I do it. But, I do. I learned to find the joy in the littlest of things. An IV on stick on the first try, a happy doctor, a family bringing in fresh coffee, and to being able to sit down to have a proper lunch break. I've taken up yoga and meditation, and try to really enjoy my time off the clock. My family and friends all play a role in making me a more capable nurse. But to be perfectly honest, there are days I want to sit on my couch all day long in my pajamas, emotionally and physically drained! It's because I know what lurks around the corner-that next admission, that next phone call; devastating news, another sick child, the patient down the hall with the family that has more questions than you have answers. And the never ending look of fear I see in parents eyes, the feeling that hope is lost, asking that question, "why God, why?" And then there are those glorious days, where it seems like the stars are all aligned: no evidence of disease, a last chemo party, laughing because of something so silly, a former patient coming back to say hi & thank you, and yes, a proper lunch break. So, if I must answer my own question, I would do it over again. Maybe I didn't have a choice, maybe the universe chose nursing for me. I don't know if it was the baby dolls or another lifetime, but it's in me. Nursing is a part of everything I do; the constant critical thinking, the concern, the ability to switch my emotions off, the praying for families. And I tell this to my daughter now when she calls; crying, frustrated and sad, after a difficult shift. I tell her she's going to see things that people shouldn't have to...not the blood and guts that most people think of, but raw emotions that come with nursing. It's a cruel cruel world, nursing is, but it is rewarding in ways most people will never begin to understand.

Thank you Martine for sharing such honesty about your love and passion for your career. Your words are inspiring.

It's a weird feeling. To love someone that isn't quite sure who you are. It grips you, right in the heart, the blank stare. The one where they look right thru you. And you wonder, are they trying to remember? Will I get lucky today? Sometimes, on a good day, you can tell by looking in their eyes, that they see something in you that clicks, reminds them of some other time. And on a great day, they remember your name. That's life with Alzheimer's. The cruel twist of fate that grabs your gut & robs your soul, little by little, every second, every day. It's saying hi to a stranger, & goodbye to a person that you love with every ounce of your being, who could care less. It takes you, piece by piece. In the beginning you say to yourself, I can do this, but then you forget yourself, and you crumble. You cry, and pray, and miss someone, someone who is still physically there. You hold onto a person, but that person is gone. You pray a silent prayer every time, this day they will know me, know us, know our love. After a while, you don't even care that they don't remember your name, you just want that feeling, the one where it seems like they recognize you, and it makes them comfortable. Unfortunately, not all of our prayers are answered. You feel the cut, no matter how much you prepare yourself. It's the first glance that feels like a knife, then the blank stare that feels like someone twisting the knife in your soul. And then you bleed...as you hold them, and feed them, and clean them...you bleed. It's war, and you are the only soilder. The battleground is in your heart, and the weapons are empty stares. It's a war you don't win. No one comes to your rescue. No one knows your pain. No one that hasn't already fought their own war. It's not a disease that others easily relate too, it's not cancer, or a heart attack. Those diseases cause everyone to rally. Everybody's your friend, your support. It's different with Alzheimer's. Your at home, because your loved one can't go out. It causes confusion, anxiety, & paranoia. They forget to tell you they have to go to the bathroom, they forget how to stand, they forget how to eat, they forget you. They get scared, agitated, and you find yourself holding your breath a lot. Waiting and forgetting to breathe, fighting off your own anxiety, and asking yourself 'what could possibly be next?' So you're at home, alone. Isolation, desperation, and loss take control of you. You don't just loose your loved one, you also loose part of yourself. But it goes so much deeper than that, because it saddens you that they forgot themselves. And they were amazing! Alzheimer's disease is a physical loss to an invisible disease. It's a killer. It's a goodbye every time you look in their eyes.

I have had a very similar situation in my employment. It is one of the most difficult positions to be in. I'm sure ethics committees are discussing this all over the world.

26-I spend Christmas Eve with my family so that my coworkers can share Christmas morning with their children. It's my gift.

That's par for the course some days-it's strange how professions sometimes don't assume EVERYONE is working as a professional, only them?