Miss Trust: Tales from the Bedpan

Shift #4: Part 2 - Con te partirò (Time to say goodbye)

As my shift was coming to an end, I realized how quickly the day had passed. During a brief moment alone with my preceptor, while the residents were sleeping, I took the opportunity to give her a small thank-you gift and card I had prepared. She was funny, repeatedly asking, "Are you sure this is for me?" as if I wasn’t shadowing her every moment, down to every twitch, for the past 6 weeks! "Of course, it’s for you!" I exclaimed.

The gift was small, a token of thanks, but my preceptor insisted it was completely unnecessary. I wanted to give her something that reflected my gratitude. She paused, swallowed hard, and gave me a heartfelt, choked-up speech. She shared how proud she was of me and how she’d seen my confidence grow over the past 6 weeks. I felt emotional but kept myself composed. She went on to say that it was amazing that I am so young, yet so confident in knowing what I want to do. Do I know what I want to do? Sometimes I still wonder. Sometimes, I feel like I am watching myself, as if I am watching a television program. Who is this actress who looks and sounds just like me? It’s an alternate reality of me—or so it seems… sometimes.

I got lucky with my preceptor. I realize that now. I know I was lucky. The wrong preceptor could have killed any chances of me becoming a nurse. The wrong preceptor could have destroyed my confidence, my joy of learning, and my desire to ‘make a difference.’

I have heard stories of nursing students who were overworked and mistreated by their preceptors, but I got lucky. My preceptor was friendly, bubbly, and extremely patient. From my first shift, she made me feel welcome, allowing me to adjust and grow in this new and unfamiliar environment. She never pushed me to do tasks I was uncomfortable with, but always encouraged me to try something new or lead the care. I felt supported because she was always supportive. I will never forget this preceptor—she was my first. I was so nervous and unsure of myself, but she saw that and transformed my first placement from something daunting into an experience that was enjoyable (can I say fun?) and fulfilling.

Now, I find myself nervous about who my next preceptor will be. The bar has been set—maybe too high? I can only hope they are as wonderful as my previous preceptor. I hope so.

When my shift officially ended, I wanted a chance to say goodbye to the residents who were still awake. There was one resident, in particular, I wanted to find and say goodbye to. I know we’re not supposed to get attached or have favorites, but I honestly feel like this is an unrealistic expectation.

Care is to be consistent from patient to patient. I get that. I understand our ‘favorites’ shouldn’t lead to favoritism. Sheesh, I get it! But nurses are human. Nurses have feelings and emotions. We spend more time with our patients than family members or friends often do. We are there for people at their weakest, most vulnerable times. Yet the expectation is to not have favorites? To not feel? I can’t wrap my head around this concept of becoming a robot. Of course, we have favorites, but we can have many favorites, just like you can love many things. It might be okay for physicians to ‘turn themselves off.’ It might be even easier for them. They come and go and seldom have the opportunity or time to really get to know the patient. And yes, there are always exceptions, but if you ever wonder what the greatest value of a nurse is—this is it—they are there for you. They are there for you from the very beginning, to the very end, and in all the in-between moments, too. I have ‘digressed’—thank you, Word of the Day calendar!

This resident, the one I had to say goodbye to, was the sweetest woman I encountered. Each week, I would look for her at the start of my shift just to say hello. She was always a great start to my shifts and made me feel energized for the day ahead.

I found her by the TV, alone, as usual. She usually stays up the latest of all the residents. I went to her and gave her a big smile to say my goodbye. I knew she might not understand me due to her impaired and progressive cognitive decline, but I was given a surprise in this last encounter.

She grabbed my hand and held it for a bit as she continued to watch the TV. I stood there, quiet. I softened my smile, looked at the TV with her, and glanced down to see if maybe I could catch her eye. Instead, she took my hand and brought it to her face. My hand rested on her face for a brief moment, and then she let go. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t look at me. It was a very simple but tender gesture, yet the non-verbal message was clearly understood. In that very, very small moment, I realized how special these connections are—so special that words couldn’t even express the same. Again, I know we aren’t supposed to get attached, but I'm struggling with this militaristic Nightingale origin. I can't help but feel that these meaningful connections are what make nursing so fulfilling to both the patient and the nurse.

I am writing this entry a few days after my last shift, and I have been reflecting on the experiences I have gained and the lessons I have learned. Today, I opened my laptop to find that I received my final evaluation from my clinical instructor on my LTC placement. She provided me with some constructive feedback to work on as I continue to my next placement, as well as some really kind words. She noted that I had done an amazing job in this placement and highlighted the strong communication skills I developed and the confidence I had gained. Alongside the skills and strategies I demonstrated, she mentioned I always had a smile on my face, which correspondingly made the residents feel more welcome. I think out of that entire evaluation, this is the greatest compliment. It is remarkable how something as simple as a smile can have such a profound impact. I guess I must have done something right: "Smile and the whole world smiles with you."

I am excited for my next placement. The next stage of my journey will be in the hospital, and I know this is going to be a very different experience. Am I ready? I am up for the challenge! Let’s see what wild adventure awaits!