Waiting in Line at the Post Office, Yet Again

Yet again, I’m waiting in line at the post office to mail packages. Frequent readers of JParadisiRN are probably thinking, “Holy carp. I thought she said she’s a nurse. She spends more time at the post office than in a hospital.”

The White that Binds (Pinnning Ceremony) jparadisi 2010

The White that Binds (pinning Ceremony) jparadisi 2010

Actually, I don’t, but I do mail packages at the post office throughout the year. This is the penalty of an ambitious child who moved far away from some of the people she loves most in the world to follow her dreams. Mailing gifts acknowledges the birthdays I am not present to celebrate.

I’ve noted similarities between hospitals and post offices before. Today’s line is much shorter than they are at Christmas. Regardless, the seasonal change does not remedy all the coughing and runny noses among those waiting.

The worst cough belongs to a woman already standing at the window loudly questioning the clerk about every conceivable option available for mailing the midsized envelope she clutches. Her hair is held by a twist-tie in a messy ponytail, revealing a rash on her pale face, which is positioned 18 inches from the postal clerk’s face. The woman coughs often, in a peculiar fashion: She lifts her face to the ceiling and covers her mouth with her fist while turning her entire body 180 degrees. This creates the effect of a Rain Bird sprinkler, spraying fat water droplets (or, in this case, respiratory droplets) upon the clerk and throughout the lobby.

It gets worse. After 20 minutes of asking the clerk questions and coughing, the woman ends the exchange by saying, “Thank you.” She replaces the envelope into her tote, and leaves without mailing it. I fear the people in line in front of me may knock her senseless, but she leaves unmolested.

At the very same moment, a second clerk returns from a back room, scrutinizes the long line, and says to the first clerk, “You certainly fell behind while I was on break.”

Exasperated, the soggy clerk responds, “I had a person asking a bazillion questions.” She beseeches those of us in line for support. One customer says, “You were very kind.” The others nod and mumble in agreement.

What does this story have to do with nursing? Directly speaking, not much. Yet I can’t help but connect the similarities between the postal clerk, nurses, and the special skills required to work with the public, sometimes at the risk of our own health. Topping off this encounter with criticism from a coworker who is unaware of these special qualities after a particularly stellar performance dampens the spirit, like water from a Rain Bird sprinkler.

The lessons learned: Our jobs are hard. Be kind. Look for the positive in coworkers and in yourself. Don’t wait until Nurses’ Day to recognize staff and colleagues.

Nurses & Doctors: Make Appreciation Reciprocal

artist: jparadisi

artist: jparadisi

Few life-threatening or terminal diseases present themselves in otherwise healthy, alert, and charming hosts the way cancer does.

From the get-go, oncologists are not only captain of the ship; they hoist life preservers in the form of treatment to patients drowning in waves of shock after a cancer diagnosis.

In my opinion, oncologists’ hearts closely resemble those of nurses. This is attributed to the fact that although oncologists do not spend the same quantity of time with patients as nurses do, the quality of the time they spend is intense. They often form relationships with patients over years. It’s common for an oncologist to know close members of their patient’s family, also like nurses.

During my last episode of possible (it wasn’t) recurrence, I experienced this truth.

My oncologist and I share a professional relationship. One of the reasons he’s my oncologist is because I know he’s good at what he does. My husband likes him, too. They share an easy communication, which is another reason for my choice. If/when cancer recurs, I know they will cooperate on my care, freeing me to be the patient, not the nurse. This arrangement brings me peace of mind.

Anyway, I had suspicious symptoms, which landed me face down in an MRI. My appointment to receive the MRI results was scheduled at end of a workday for my oncologist.

David accompanied me. Dr. My Choice entered the exam room holding the films, clipping them to the light box.

“I haven’t looked at these yet,” he explained. “I thought we could see them at the same time.”

It hit me in a flash: Dr. My Choice likes us too. He is about to find out if he will tell a nurse he enjoys working with, and her husband, whether or not her cancer has recurred.

Snap! What have I done to him?

Fortunately, the films revealed I am still cancer free. The look of relief on Dr. My Choice’s face nearly equaled David’s.

Oncologists, (doctors) have feelings, too. This knowledge affects the professional relationships of nursing practice in the following ways:

  • When questioning an order, assume the doctor has good intentions toward his or her patient, same as you.
  • Avoid framing questions to a doctor with your personal inferences, such as opinions of whether or not the physician is “good” or “bad.”
  • Consider that doctors suffer from work overload, and burn out, as do nurses.
  • Remember: Being part of a team is catching one another when we fall. No one is on top of his or her game every time.
  • Protect the Rock Star Doctor (every unit has one) by double-checking their orders the same as you do for any other physician. Don’t let them fall to earth because you were not diligent in providing a safety net for their patients.

Education is the tool of our trade. It is our demeanor, which makes us professionals.