WINNIPEG FREE PRESS - THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2016 5
NURSES: WITH YOU EVERY STEP OF THE WAY
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baby’s oxygen supply. Another nurse brought me gloves and retrieved a stretcher. I put the woman in a safe position and we arrived at the unit in record time. The baby was saved with an emergency/crash caesarean section. Reflecting on this moment, I realize that I never even asked the woman her name, yet I played a crucial role in her and her baby’s life. This was a rewarding end to my three-day shift. As a nurse, I had aided two women through one of the most difficult journeys of their lives. Life and death — that’s what we nurses deal with daily. I never knew I had it in me to carry out such an important and honouring role. I am like every other nurse; I sometimes resent working when many others are off enjoying weekends and holidays. But you know, I wouldn’t trade my career for a regular job. Why? Because I know I make a difference in people’s lives. And isn’t that why we’re here? Cindy Schulz High Risk Labour and Delivery Women’s Hospital, Health Sciences Centre MOTHER’S HELPER As a nurse, I know the experience of putting pieces of myself out into the universe, but I never really know the impact this has on those I care for. When I gave birth to my daughter, I had my first real experience of being on the receiving end of this care. I delivered by C-section, unexpectedly. The care I received at Women’s Hospital was first rate! My daughter was healthy, but I felt broken inside. Clinically, I understood what happened during my delivery, but emotionally I felt thrust into motherhood in a manner I wasn’t really expecting. In addition to this feeling, I struggled with a baby that wasn’t interested in breastfeeding. Again, clinically I knew this wasn’t the end of the world, but emotionally, I NEEDED to breastfeed. My care relationship with Susan Brasher, postpartum nurse and lactation consultant, helped me weather that storm. Her care, expertise and patience eased me into the experience of caring for my daughter and learning
patience myself as she learned to nurse. The quiet moments during which I sat in her office in those fragile first days of motherhood, her presence and support guided me in this new role. Beyond the clinical care, the way in which she positively changed me as a person was invaluable and something for which a simple “thank you” was never enough. Alicia Lapple, RN BN Communicable Disease Coordinator Population and Public Health - Healthy Sexuality and Harm Reduction, WRHA
NURSING MOMENTS
PROFOUNDLY HUMAN CONNECTIONS It was a typical shift for me — a 12-hour day and the start of three in a row. I was given the assignment to take care of a patient who had just been told that her baby was deceased. We cried a lot together as we discussed many things; the “why me?” questions and the “what happens now?” discussions. We also began the induction process. Having a baby is a painful process, but usually at the end of the painful journey, there is a wonderful reward — a baby; a beautiful human being who becomes the centre of your world. With the induction of an IUD (intrauterine death), there is pain in every form imaginable. The second day I came to work, I was scheduled to look after the same patient again, since we had already developed a connection. Her labour process had begun and we felt comfortable with one another. When my third 12-hour shift started, the other staff on the unit mentioned that they’d be willing to take on this patient due to the intensity of her situation. I felt like I would let her down if I didn’t look after her again and I wanted to be there with her during the most difficult part — the delivery. I needed to complete this journey with her, for her and for me, too. When I walked into her room, she was pushing, tired and exhausted. Her eyes met mine and she said, “You’re here! I knew you would come.” She delivered her baby and we cried as she held the infant. After the completion of paperwork and photos and too many questions to be answered at an emotional moment such as this, I had to transfer her to another ward and say goodbye. It was difficult for both of us. I went for a break to debrief alone and process all that had happened, and then I returned to the unit. No sooner had I returned when a code was called overhead, “Obstetrical 25!” I ran to the antepartum unit and came upon a pregnant woman whose umbilical cord had prolapsed, threatening her
Dealing with life & death: Cindy Shulz.
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