Saturday Stories

I will never forget my very first patient, for more reasons than one. I was so very nervous; that first day in the hospital. I looked at my assigned patient's chart first thing- "Oh good", I thought, "it's a nice little old lady." I was assigned to the instructor with which I was least comfortable, and she chose to watch my assessment first. "Great." So I walk down the hall, followed by an instructor and four fellow students. I press open the door as I paste a smile over my nervous face.

"I'M GOING TO BITE YOU! DON'T YOU COME NEAR ME!" Wow. I was SO not prepared for this... My instructor took pity and said, "Tell her you are going to do your assessment and that she will not bite you." My mouse voice repeated her words. I was trembling to my very self. The patient turned her wide, wild eyes to my wide, astonished ones. "Go ahead and do your assessment," My instructor prompted. I bravely (I felt) started in. "I'm going to shine my light in your eyes," and, "please follow my pen with your eyes." Yeah, right. All the while judiciously keeping my fingers away from my patient's gaping mouth. I got to the part where I needed to listen to her lungs. "Please breath slowly in and out." Uh-huh. She was still screaming about biting me; I'm sure the nurses at the desk down the hall were all chuckling.

"Jade, I'm going to ask you to start over. Take a deep breath and start your assessment from the top. I know that you can do this." That meant I was doing something wrong, but what? I couldn't even think- in fact, I was lucky to be speaking through all the nerves. I started again. Again began to listen to her lungs, and again was stopped. I was almost in tears. My instructor (who became one of my favorite teachers), took me outside of the small room and pulled me aside. "I'm not going to pass your assessment today, Jade. You'll need to do three more practices in the lab tomorrow. You must always put your stethoscope UNDER the patients' gown and against their skin to listen to their lung sounds." Oh. Tears pooled, and began to spill. "I understand that you are nervous, but you will do better next time. Don't cry, it will be okay." Her tears then began to pool. After several deep breaths we walked back in. She chose another student to perform the assessment, and they did it right, of course. I focused on breathing in and out.

No one was bit that day, nor have I ever been bit. I passed my assessment the next week, conscientiously placing my stethoscope under the patient's gown. I eventually out grew my mouse voice, and came to love working with patients who are a bit more than your average crazy.