Tumbleweed and Alligator
Thoughts and Ramblings of a West Texas Native and a Cajun Poser
My "View" of Nurses
My "View" of Nurses
This was written after the derogatory comments made by Joy Bahar on "The View", regarding nurses. On September 16, 2015, Bahar was forced to apologize publicly for her mockery of nurses after a backlash from nurses, their supporters and the medical profession in general.
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September 18, 2015
Her name was Betty, and she was a nurse. After giving birth to a baby weighing 4lbs, with breathing issues, who was obviously deaf, and had several other life-threatening issues, I was whisked out of the room, going one direction, and my baby going the other. Within hours, the course of action to save her life meant transporting her to a different hospital, while I remained confined to a bed. No one had noticed that I had not touched or held my baby prior to the transfer.
Nurse Betty, coming to accompany Emily in the ambulance was so hopeful, so optimistic, and so casual as she sat me down in the rocking chair located in the nursery. She scooped Emily up from the incubator, with all her tubes and monitors and put her in my arms – an act totally unnecessary to the life of the baby, totally unrelated to the exercise of medical skills, techniques or procedures. But she recognized that the bond between mother and baby had not been accommodated, so the ambulance would just have to wait.
In those most precious solitary moments, Betty became a part of my birthing memory, and gave me my first encounter with a nurse that would change or alter my perspective of the nursing profession forever.
Her name was Mary, and she was a nurse. She met us at our home on the day we brought our very fragile daughter home from the hospital. We were nervous, anxious, excited, and very afraid that we wouldn’t know what to do, how to do it, when to do it – whatever “it” was, related to a tracheostomy, a gastrostomy, monitors, etc. The doctors said Emily was ready to come home, but we weren’t so sure it was the right environment, and we were the right “personnel” to handle what we knew for a fact, as well as instinctively, we might face. Mary was there, and helped “set up” the room for the tiny patient that was our daughter. But, more than that, she set the tone and the optimistic approach we would come to adopt and live for the next couple of decades. Her professional skills were appreciated, but what we didn’t expect was her compassion, understanding and humanity.
Her name is Judy Ecuyer, and she was a nurse. She immediately touched our hearts when we met her for the first time. She was cheerful, warm, caring and so respectful of our positions as new parents. She validated our feelings with her own hugs and words of understanding and acceptance. She never judged us when we veered off the conventional path to try something different. She treated us like family, treated me as a friend, and treated Emily like a granddaughter. Years after her employment with us had ended, Judy attended James’ first birthday, and visited Emily’s pre-mature twins in the hospital. And lest I forget, she saved Emily’s life, probably more than once. At age 3, Emily pulled her trach out, lacerating her trachea and almost drowning in her own blood. Judy was responsible for rushing her to the hospital and keeping the suction machine going. All of her training and all of her skills came to play in this one episode, on this one day while taking care of her patient, and then taking care of her parents.
Her name is Barbara Jackson, and she was a nurse. While I lost track of her, she remains in our hearts forever.* Barbara drove to Harvey each day from Laplace, bringing with her such style, such organization and a methodical approach. She was a serious, yet caring and compassionate addition to our family. She loved her little patient, and loved dressing her in beautiful little baby clothes. She had a routine about her that made us feel confident and secure. But, make no mistake about it, Barbara was soft – she was easy going, and kept Emily’s “milestone” moments recorded on camera because she sympathized with the fact that Ed and I had to work and were absent and unable to witness firsthand the daily routine of our precious daughter. She also was very sentimental – giving gifts with meaning to Emily for her to treasure – a bracelet with her name engraved, a doll whose name was Emily. It was Barbara who accompanied us to Paris for Emily’s surgery, literally becoming like family.
Her name is Lynn Branham, and she was a nurse. First and foremost, I loved her because she was so approachable, so common sense, a mother, and so at ease with everything required of her. She was there with me when Emily received her first hearing aid. We both cried through the emotional experience of seeing Emily’s face light up for the first time at the sound of my voice. She was there when Emily’s breath showed up on a mirror for the first time revealing that there was air passing around the trach that indicated hope for its eventual removal. Lynn was innovative, creating and developing “unorthodox” solutions to problems like leakage around the gastro site, feedings, post-op recovery strategies. She introduced her own children to Emily’s world, giving Emily opportunities to play, interact with them and learn what friendship was. After Emily gave birth to Olivia and Lucas in 2013, the scary days that followed found Emily consulting with and finding comfort in Lynn’s words and support.
Her name is Dede Bacon, and she was a nurse. She was assigned to our case when she, herself was very young and carefree. Dede was a young professional, with little experience, but soon proved to be more than competent to take on this energetic child in her care. Dede was a “playmate”, as well as a caregiver. Knowing now, what I perhaps did not realize then, that children learn from role-playing, turn taking, exploration, and hands-on experience. The natural curiosity of children must be acknowledged, enhanced, and set free to discover their world. Coming home from work and learning that the day consisted of a bike ride through mud puddles or a finger painting with cool whip, jumping on a trampoline, or a myriad list of activities was truly the first steps on a path that would prepare Emily for her future as a teacher. Dede, being single and far away from family, went on family trips with us, spent Christmas with us, taking care of the multiple daily tasks and routines surrounding a child with a trach, g-tube, hearing aid, etc. Dede became an honorary member of the family, complete with her picture under a refrigerator magnet in the kitchen of my grandmother. Emily was flower girl at Dede’s Vermont wedding, and Dede also attended Emily’s wedding in Las Vegas.
My limited cache of words cannot ever convey the fullness of my heart and the love and respect that I have had for these nurses over the decades. They were but a few of the dozens of nurses that we have encountered as those who came to our home, and those we met in hospitals from New Orleans, Kansas City, Charlotte, Houston, and Paris; those serving in clinics, offices, and those who owned or represented nursing agencies. Our family is deeply grateful for their lives, the choices they made to have medical careers, and the contribution they made to the care and well-being of Emily, who is now pursuing her passion; a passion that was stirred, in large part by the nurses who wore the “costume” and a “doctor’s stethoscope” around their necks!
No nurse is just a nurse, just as no masterpiece is just a picture.
* I finally found Barbara on Facebook in 2019, and quickly saw that she was still a central part and support for another “patient”, which I am sure has been enriched by the friendship and compassion Barbara has given her.
What my readers are saying
What my readers are saying
Being a nurse is my calling, and I would do it no matter if I got a thank you or not, but thank you for acknowledging us in such a public way.
Beth M.