Nurses are widely known to be the most difficult patients to take care of.

As a bedside nurse, I’ve had my fair share of taking care of nurses as patients, as patients’ parents, etc. To be fair, some of them were easy-going, while others, not so much! So, why am I writing about it now? Because I was recently a patient and this is my experience!

Benefits of Knowing Your Provider Personally

Yes, you read it right. I know my primary doctor and my surgeon personally. I have been working with them for some years now, and being a colleague has its pros and cons.

Pros

1. They know my medical history extensively. When I see them, I basically just have to update them with my latest signs and symptoms, they come up with a diagnosis, and manage me accordingly.
2. It is convenient to communicate with them through my health app. I am not saying that they treat my messages as a priority all the time. Knowing them and the people in the clinic helps facilitate that communication in a timely manner.
3. It is easier for them to e-prescribe my prescriptions to my preferred pharmacy. Sometimes, my prescription is ready to be picked up even before I get home from my appointment.

Cons

1. It is hard to draw the line between them treating me as a patient or as a colleague. They welcome my input since I am the best advocate for myself, but they have to discern if I am being a patient or a clinician myself.
2. Personally speaking, sometimes, I filter myself when talking to my provider. Do I need to let her or him know about this symptom? In short, there is that fear of being judged.
3. I don’t know about you but I feel self-conscious when I talk with my provider, especially after a physical examination.

Now On To My Story

As we grow older, we can’t escape some health issues that require more extensive management. I see my primary doctor and the specialists whom she will refer me to regularly. I get a copy of my providers’ after-visit summary via my patient portal (healthcare application). From all those, I pretty much understand my own health status.

You see, even back in nursing school, I have developed this habit of self-diagnosing myself. Not to brag about it, but I have been right about 95% of the time. And that was before diagnostic procedures, mind you.

That habit continues to this very day. Sometimes, I can’t help myself, I would volunteer my thoughts or ideas to the doctor even before labs or imaging are ordered to accurately diagnose my symptoms.

For example, I would tell the cardiologist that my palpitations may signify missed beats here and there. True enough, the electrocardiogram (ECG or EKG) would show that. Nevertheless, they would still order more diagnostic procedures to get down to the bottom of the problem at hand.

Surgical Management

With that being said, I recently had symptoms that required surgical management. Actually, it has been years in the making, but I was just too stubborn to agree to that proposition. I reasoned with the surgeon that I would prefer to go with the flow – meaning symptomatic treatment. Pain medication for discomfort, that kind of thing.

However, as years passed, I noticed worsening symptoms to the point that I reconsidered. The surgeon was surprised when I presented myself all ready to face the knife. The surgical preparation commenced that very day.

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Covid Threw a Wrench to My Plans

People who know me will all agree that I make timetables for anything and everything. I carefully carved out a plan with the manager of the surgical office to consider my benefits, my medical leave, even my tasks for work. She and I agreed that having it done at the start of the year is the best option for me. There was only one little thing that derailed all of our perfectly laid out plans – yes, the virus called SARS Covid 19!

The week before I was scheduled for surgery, the hospital where I was to have my procedure canceled elective surgeries. The office manager stated that my choices were to have it in one of our sister hospitals within that week or to have it postponed sometime in March if that is at all possible. After obtaining approval from my leader, I chose the first option.

Admitted as a Patient

The day of my surgery came. Packed in my bag was my change of clothes, my toiletries, my electronic devices, my chargers, my insurance cards, and two bottles of water. My husband asked why did I need to bring water. I told him that maybe they will come in handy. More about that later.

Nevertheless, since no visitors were allowed, he literally just dropped me off by the hospital’s main entrance. I was ambivalent about that. On one hand, it was a plus because he is squeamish about hospitals, blood draws, etc. On the other hand, I so desperately wanted him to be by my side when I woke up from anesthesia.

After registration, it was an easy pre-procedure prep. The pre-op nurse was amazing in the sense that she got my intravenous line inserted with just one attempt. For a hard stick patient like me, that felt like a great victory.

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Surgery and Its Aftermath

When I was ready for the operating room (OR), the nurse who picked me up was the graduate student whom I mentored during her practicum weeks. I informed her that I can let my pre-anesthesia sedative take full effect because I knew that I was in great hands. True enough, we didn’t even reach the OR before I was in la-la-land!

The next thing I remembered, I was being moved from the gurney to the hospital bed where I was to stay for the night. I was in and out of consciousness at that time, so basically I just dozed those immediate post-operative hours away. Despite that, I distinctly recalled asking my nurse to give me pain medication every three hours and to only administer narcotics if I was in desperately uncontrollable pain. I was trying to apply to myself the usual post-op modality that I would do for my patients as a nurse.

Not even six hours post-op, my nurse wanted me to drink and eat dinner. I informed her that I was nauseated, but she insisted that I at least try. And tried, I did! Nope, my gastrointestinal tract was not ready yet.

Also, I didn’t like how the water they gave me tasted. I politely asked the nurse to grab my bottled water from my purse, and I started sipping on that. That was all I could do for dinner and I settled in for the night. Didn’t I mention that my bottled water will come in handy one way or the other?

Hourly Rounding

I loved and hated hourly rounding in equal amounts. As a pro, I am assured that someone was always checking up on me. The nursing assistant (CNA) consistently emptied my foley catheter. In another instance, the nurse caught me trying to reposition myself on bed independently, even if I was in excruciating pain. On the flip side, I couldn’t rest because they seemed to come just when I was trying to doze back to sleep.

By four in the morning, I insisted on standing up and having my foley catheter removed. I reasoned out that I felt a full bladder which worsened my post-op pain. My nurse stated that I should rest instead. Guess who won? Me, the patient, that’s who!

She had to send the CNA to my room because I decided that I was getting out of bed with or without help. The moment I stood up, 1,400 ml of urine drained into my urinary bag. The CNA couldn’t believe her eyes because she was draining 200-300ml every 2-3 hours. Yes, I did have a full bladder for a number of hours!

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Breakfast Time

The relief that I had was instantaneous. I was able to physically rest, but my brain was telling me that it has been 36 hours since I last had anything to eat. I was mentally beating myself up because I wouldn’t be starving had I eaten dinner. As soon as I could order breakfast, I dialed the phone and ordered everything from dietary. I asked them if I could have cake for breakfast. Maybe I sounded desperate so aside from my breakfast tray, I had cake!

When the surgeon did rounds, he asked me how my night went. I informed him about the pain issue to which he asked: “did you take drugs?”

“Yes, doctor, the legal ones!”

He said: “Come again?” I repeated: ” Yes doctor, I took the legal drugs that you prescribed!” Maybe it was too early for a joke!

And just like that, he completed my discharge orders and sent me home. A quick change of clothes, a short wheelchair ride, and I was reunited with my husband by the main entrance – the same place where he dropped me off 24 hours ago.

Learnings

I was silently hoping that my healthcare team didn’t find me to be a difficult patient. Maybe I was not a “go with the flow” kind of patient, but I really did try to be compliant as much as I can.

I think the challenge when nurses, or other healthcare team members, become patients is the fact that we know the course of medical management. It is hard to separate our nurse’s from our patient’s hats. In a word, if we can advocate for our patients as nurses, we can also do that for ourselves as well. I can’t pride myself on providing quality, safe, and patient-centered care for my patients if I can’t articulate that for myself.

Nevertheless, I continued to flip back and forth between being a patient and being a nurse as I continued to recover at home. I welcomed input from colleagues and my surgeon when I made the decision to go back to work. There were times when I would be impatient with myself, but I had to accept the fact that my recovery has to take its own course, regardless of my own self-defined timetable.

One best thing that I realized was I finally had the chance to explore my other passions – and so here I am WRITING and finally LAUNCHING THIS BLOG!