Personal Narrative: The Nurse

cross into surgery with her, and the nurse confirmed that she could. The client’s anxiety appeared

The Doctor of Nursing Practice (DNP) helped me to develop leadership skills in my nursing practice by utilizing the integration of nursing science, theories, and concepts with knowledge from ethics, the biophysical, psychosocial, analytical, and organizational sciences as the basis for the highest level of nursing practice. At the start of the DNP program, I was a clinical bedside nurse with limited skills as a nurse educator and leadership, now I feel I have achieved mastery in developing leadership skills as well as increased confidence in the use of evidence-based practice and research. Examples of critical events that have stimulated my growth in the program include the DNP project plan and the workshop implementation.

One member explained that this was possible through universal experiences of poorly supportive post-surgical care, alienation to the hospital environment, and communication difficulties that they had all been through to some degree. I look forward to continued contact with members whose insight will prove invaluable when I care for patients like them in the

I interviewed Beverly Stark. She works for Health Partners Hospice and Palliative Care as a hospice registered nurse (RN). The setting of her work varies. It is wherever her patient lives, which can range from a hospital, long term care, or in the patient’s home. She emphasized the importance of her team. She works with nurses, social workers, home health aids, chaplains, doctors, and hospice volunteers on a daily basis. She is part of what they call a core group. Each core group is made up of two RNs, one social worker, and a home health aid (HHA). The core group meets once a week to talk and update each other on their caseload. Additionally, they meet with the chaplain and a doctor weekly (B. Stark, personal communication, Sept 9, 2016).

Terrified was an understatement. “Surgery….surgery…surgery…” was the only word that I heard echoed through the room , and suddenly images of knifes and flesh being cut invaded my ten years old mind. Peritonitis, was what I had, “unfortunately” I thought then, yet “fortunately” I know now. My calling in life was then discovered and for that I will be forever grateful. Petrified and alone, I was yearning for someone to understand my fear and explain what is about to happen to me; to clarify what the doctors said. That 's when a Physician Assistant walked in and changed my life forever. I will always remember Julie 's smile and reassuring voice which filled me with a sense of calm and genuine comfort. She was carrying a doll and highlighted what my surgery was all about. As I lay in bed recovering after surgery, I decided that one day I will be like Julie and I will help people feel secure and safe in the healthcare setting.

At the beginning of my fall semester my calling was Speech Pathology, since I love helping other people in any way I can. In the book Callings in the Healers section I connect with the Oncology nurse. With my grandma passing away from liver cancer when I was seven years old it was very tragic time in my life. Ever since she has passed away I have always wanted to be able to help people during a difficult time in their life or helping them accomplish a milestone in their life to make them a better person. The oncology nurse found her calling by her grandma passing away from cancer, which is why she chose her profession that she is in. I chose my profession due to my grandma passing away, she was my role model and inspired me to help people.

This weekend I had the opportunity to switch to a different preceptor who was hands down the best nurse I could have ever asked for to precept with me. She does everything by the book, doesn’t take any shortcuts and doesn’t mind showing you what you need to know to become a great nurse. Throughout the day she we would quiz me and Phillip on whatever we were experiencing at that time as well as the material we were currently covering in school. After lunch she had the on call respiratory therapist to come down and explain some things to us and also offer pop quizzes and scenarios to help prepare us for our upcoming test. Ms. Yazzie was extremely helpful and also stated that she would be willing to tutor me and meet me half way to offer her services.

I could do nothing to give any glimmer of hope in remission their suffering. Every Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday afternoon before shadowing Dr. S, I silently stacked cups next to the water dispenser, replaced empty Kleenex boxes on the shelf, and was present to help invigorate and comfort the weeping. Small things don't change the world, but better in the spirit of collective solitude after the difficult conversation about the poor prognosis. This was when I had the incredible honor to get to know her. She wrestled with afflictions in her life but couldn’t overcome any. Behind her lucid, friendly smile and strikingly grit in her eyes was a disheartening story of a mother who, before her eyes, had lost her 4 month old son to SIDS. “Everything

When reading this short story, I not only felt moved but I felt inspired by the courage and determination expressed by the nurse to discover and resolve the underlying cause of the patients lack of consciousness post-op. In this scenario, the nurse demonstrated a diverse array of problem-solving strategies, by not only investigating the client’s medical history and assessments performed, but additionally utilizing effective communication with the healthcare team involved throughout the clients operation and recovery to succinctly gather all relevant information that may aid in uncovering the aetiology of the patients current lack of consciousness. The persistence, empathy and dedication for the patient’s well-being expressed by the nurse in

I was a young mother of one, working 12 hour night shifts at the local trauma hospital and taking a crack at college to improve the future for me and my child. I can recall leaving work and heading straight to my Friday morning class. I only had four more hours, I can do this I would tell myself. A book hadn’t touched my hands in quite a while. With all the anxiety I had constructed about returning to school, actually having to pick up a book, read it, and write about it were very intimidating task. However, I was strong-minded, determined to accomplish my goal of one day becoming a Nurse Practitioner. Learning to write academic papers is meaningful because I have had the realization that the fear and anxiety swelling inside

She was admitted on the second night that I was there. She wouldn’t talk to anyone. Everyone tried to talk to her, and the nurses gave her stern looks as if to say “You won’t get far with that attitude.” She made me nervous. The hospital’s rule was that everyone had to go through an immediate mental health check to ensure that a patient could be around other patients. This girl didn’t want to be around us though. The first full day a patient was at the hospital they were allowed a visit with family. Usually when visits occurred the other patients played games or talked in the main room of the ward. This girl went to go visit her family, five minutes later we all heard screaming and something hit the wall. There was a male nurse, he was a big

In my childhood years, I always had a constant interest in the caring of people and would oftentimes play "Pretend Doctor and Nurse" and Hasbro's classic "Operation" board game with my brother. While years have passed by, I often reciminisced those years into wondering what it would be like to be a nurse. Then, a radical event had occurred to me in my last year of high school, I met a girl named Cecilia diagnosed with down syndrome and her mother at Tropical Park. The park was fastidiously constructed from a nonprofit sports organization, "Special Olympics," for all sorts of activities; from hula hooping to limbo, I enjoyed the participation, the laughter, and joy stimutaneously prospering from easy-breezy fun.

Once my operation was over, I looked around in amazement. Most five year old children would cry after being in the emergency room—not I. I simply stood up and smiled, pondering on the limitless possibilities that exist within the medical field. I was envious of those doctors. I wanted

With a lump in my throat, I hesitantly entered the room of a patient newly admitted to the hospitalist service. The sunken face of the woman inside was not the same plump and smiling face that was once so familiar. She had been my advanced studies teacher in grade school, and now she was my patient with a devastating diagnosis of stage IV breast cancer. We spent time together each day, talking about past memories and my future plans, and upon her discharge from the hospital she thanked me for my compassionate treatment with a heartfelt card.

By the time we reach the emergency room, my hands are clammy and my heart feels like it is beating a million miles per hour. Other doctors are standing around the person wearing masks and scrubs, like I am. I gaze down at the person. It is a female, and she looks like she’s about thirty years old. Her eyes are closed, and she almost looks dead. I look around at all the faces of the doctors, wondering how I should do this.