The moral of the bedsheet and the water bottle

I got to go back to work this week after finishing finals, hence why there was no post last week. I’ll post twice to make up for it. Here is a picture of something fun I did while I wasn’t posting-bridge jumping! Super fun, what a rush!

I’ll even make this a “Do Not Try This At Home” photo. ;)

I have noticed something this week that I had never really paid close attention to before, and that is how aides are treated by those around them, be it family members or nurses or the patients themselves. I will share two experiences of this, the first is a negative response, and we’ll end on a happy note, I promise. :) 

We were having one heck of a night. We have three aides for over 20 patients, and for some reason this batch of patients are very extensive and demanding. In lieu of that comment, as you can imagine, we were running our heads off, literally running from light to light to catch up. Showers didn’t get done, we clocked out really late that night, it was crazy. Anyway, one of the call lights I answered was a request for more water by a patient’s husband. Not a problem, I took the water bottle, filled it with ice and water, and took it back, and ran to the next call light. As I came out of another patient’s room, I saw that same light was on again, and some time had passed since I had dropped off the bottle, at least 20 minutes.

I knocked and went back in, and the husband was holding out the water bottle as I shut the door behind me and came in. I asked, as I always do, “What can I do for you?” to which he responded angrily “I guess you can’t read, can  you.” and tilted the water bottle so I could see that on the top had been written in Sharpie “No Ice”. I sat there for a second, surprised at the anger such a simple thing had caused, and then simply said “I’m sorry, here.” And reached out to take the water bottle from him, all the while his wife sat looking on without comment. He muttered something and handed it to me.

As I left I started thinking—I had made a simple mistake: easily corrected, and a very small thing with no permanent consequences, yet this man had let it fester and bother him to the point that he was rude to me, instead of simply either letting it go, or fixing it himself. The ice room is about 40 steps from her bedroom. He knew we were busy, yet he made me take the time away from my other patients to remove the ice from the water bottle. How often do we get hung up on insignificant things, and make others lives harder because of it?

On the other hand, I have another patient that same night who reminded me there are still very sweet people in this world. I came in her room to put her on the bedpan. She has bone disease, and is now bedridden to prevent injury. She is an absolute angel, I have never seen her get impatient with any of the staff, no matter what happens. I put her on the bedpan, handed her the call light, and rushed out of the room to get a couple lights while she was in the act of expelling (tee hee, I’m still not mature enough that that isn’t funny to me). By the time I was able to get back in there, it had been a while, and those bedpans, you can imagine, are definitely not the most comfortable to lay on for more than you have to. 

She also, by a turn of events, had had her sheets changed that morning, and the top sheet had never been replaced, so she had been freezing all day, but housekeeping hadn’t been able to get them washed until early evening. Even though she had been promised a sheet around 4pm, she was still kindly asking “If you have time, I’d love to get a top sheet, it’s getting kind of cold in here.” I got her one as fast as I could, and then thanked her for being so patient with us, to which she replied that she had been a nurse, and knew how hard it was for us, and that she could be patient to help us out. I left her room several times that night feeling uplifted and encouraged to head back out and deal with the lights. I am reminded of this quote by George Eliot: “What do we live for if not to make life less difficult for each other?”

This patient exemplified exactly how we ought to treat others, whether we are stressed, or hurting, or frustrated, or sad, in fact, I would say especially when we are feeling those things. Those are the moments that really count; not when your life was going really well, when your work life was smooth, when family adores you, when all the bills are paid and you are in good health. It’s when the car breaks down, the kids are screaming, your boss is upset, your wife is in the hospital: that is when it really counts. That’s when true character shows.

As a CNA, it is the moments when a patient’s family member is rude, or a patient chews me out, or a nurse is harsh because I haven’t finished the work they wanted right at that moment; it is those moments that allow us to see who we really are. For me, it means knowing that four years ago, had someone been rude like that to me as he was, I would have either been snotty back, or cried, instead I picked up the bottle and went to fix the problem. This is not a way of tooting my own horn, but a recognition that as we are put in these hard situations, we can improve, and we may not do it right the first time, but if we keep trying, we can develop that character and skill, and become like my other patient who has taught me a valuable lesson, all because of a bed sheet.