Volunteering at Tuality Community Hospital
I always do some community service when I'm home for the summer, but this year I wanted to do something where I could get some clinical experience. Tuality Community Hospital has always been close to me. My dad used to work there, and I shadowed a cardiologist there previously. For a hospital that had given me so much, I figured it was time I gave back.
I received a volunteer position in three departments: Medical Surgery, Progressive Care Unit/Intensive Care Unit, and the Emergency Department. As a volunteer, my scope of practice was fairly limited. My job was mainly to restock supplies in patient rooms, make beds, and - most importantly - to round on patients and ensure that all their needs were being met.
Volunteering was definitely a humbling experience. It became evident right away that I was the lowest of the low, at the very bottom of the food chain. Everyone was very nice to me, but that was when they paid me any attention at all. I realized very quickly that everyone in the hospital is so busy with their own responsibilities that they do not have time to pander to anyone's needs. No one was going to go out of their way to make me feel welcome or show me around if I didn't ask for it. There were several lonely days when I kind of wandered around and checked off the list of things I knew I had to do, but it wasn't until that I asserted myself and made my presence known to the staff that I got more out of the experience.
Restocking supplies, making beds, and disinfecting about every inch of the floor were pretty much all the technical duties I was allowed to perform, and the monotony of that gave me a new appreciation for what goes into health care. As a physician one day, I'm going to remember my time performing such tasks because they are vital, even if they seem to pale in comparison to what physicians do. I fully intend to go out of my way to thank each and every person who works in the hospital, because the contributions they provide do end up making the difference.
In fact, I have a new respect for the work that the nursing staff performs. They really are on the front lines of patient care. The physicians pop in every now and then to check up on patients, do their charting, and then leave. The nurses are there for 12 hours shifts, taking care of everything. The nurses really do understand the patients better than the physicians since they're constantly monitoring them and responding to their needs.
However, not all my observations were so positive. I was really thrown off by the cynicism and lack of mindful care being delivered by some of the nurses. I understand that they work grueling schedules, but some of the nurses had permanent scowls. They looked angry and miserable all the time, and that really affected their ability to care for their patients. Being sick is difficult enough, and the best thing during that time is having a compassionate presence by one's side to encourage the healing process. Some of the nurses, however, could be sharp and it felt a little cruel at times. It has been said that health care is just a big business, and there are plenty of negative connotations when terms like "consumerism" and "customer service" are tossed around because it implies that we should act a certain way for the purpose of making money. But really, hospitals should take the practices of consumer service to heart, not guided by the desire for wealth so much as as desire to ensure a patient's health. A warm smile and some kind words can be just as effective at easing a patient's pain as medication. My biggest takeaway from this experience will be recognizing how important it is to be mindful of how one projects themselves to others, especially when the quality and level of success of the profession hinges upon it. To see some of the nurses so annoyed with their patients and their jobs was really disheartening.
It's also why I took my other responsibility - rounding on patients - so seriously. I knew that there physical needs were being met, but I wanted to make sure they were receiving emotional aid as well. It was as simple as knocking on their door and checking in on them, asking how their day was going and seeing if they needed anything, that could make a huge difference for them. While many wanted privacy, most of them I could tell really appreciated that I took the time to see how they were doing. I tried to engage them in conversations as best as I could, especially for those patients who would just stare glassy eyed at the walls, waiting to get better so they could leave. Being stuck in the hospital in such a way is not a fun experience. People aren't meant to be cooped up in a single room and restricted to the confines of their bed. By rounding on them, I was providing that touch of humanity they needed in order to hold on to their's. It made me realize that what healthcare providers need is something more than just bedside manner. In fact, the term "bedside manner" sounds cold and distant, even though its purpose is to bring the provider and patient closer together. The phrase seems to imply a formula for behavior, when really what should be guiding a provider at the bedside is a genuine sense of care and concern for the patient. The best physicians shouldn't need "bedside manner" because it should be something they already possess intrinsically if they care for the patient.
By the time I had completed my 100 hours at the hospital, I felt pretty great about the work I had done there. Initially I had felt a little marginalized given my limited scope of practice, but I came to realize that even though I wasn't responsible for determining anything major in the care of the patient, all the little things I did actually ended up determining whether a patient might leave satisfied and happy with his care. Even as a physician, I'll remember that there's more to care than just prescribing medication: a patient is not a body to be fixed, but a person to be healed.
I received a volunteer position in three departments: Medical Surgery, Progressive Care Unit/Intensive Care Unit, and the Emergency Department. As a volunteer, my scope of practice was fairly limited. My job was mainly to restock supplies in patient rooms, make beds, and - most importantly - to round on patients and ensure that all their needs were being met.
Volunteering was definitely a humbling experience. It became evident right away that I was the lowest of the low, at the very bottom of the food chain. Everyone was very nice to me, but that was when they paid me any attention at all. I realized very quickly that everyone in the hospital is so busy with their own responsibilities that they do not have time to pander to anyone's needs. No one was going to go out of their way to make me feel welcome or show me around if I didn't ask for it. There were several lonely days when I kind of wandered around and checked off the list of things I knew I had to do, but it wasn't until that I asserted myself and made my presence known to the staff that I got more out of the experience.
Restocking supplies, making beds, and disinfecting about every inch of the floor were pretty much all the technical duties I was allowed to perform, and the monotony of that gave me a new appreciation for what goes into health care. As a physician one day, I'm going to remember my time performing such tasks because they are vital, even if they seem to pale in comparison to what physicians do. I fully intend to go out of my way to thank each and every person who works in the hospital, because the contributions they provide do end up making the difference.
In fact, I have a new respect for the work that the nursing staff performs. They really are on the front lines of patient care. The physicians pop in every now and then to check up on patients, do their charting, and then leave. The nurses are there for 12 hours shifts, taking care of everything. The nurses really do understand the patients better than the physicians since they're constantly monitoring them and responding to their needs.
However, not all my observations were so positive. I was really thrown off by the cynicism and lack of mindful care being delivered by some of the nurses. I understand that they work grueling schedules, but some of the nurses had permanent scowls. They looked angry and miserable all the time, and that really affected their ability to care for their patients. Being sick is difficult enough, and the best thing during that time is having a compassionate presence by one's side to encourage the healing process. Some of the nurses, however, could be sharp and it felt a little cruel at times. It has been said that health care is just a big business, and there are plenty of negative connotations when terms like "consumerism" and "customer service" are tossed around because it implies that we should act a certain way for the purpose of making money. But really, hospitals should take the practices of consumer service to heart, not guided by the desire for wealth so much as as desire to ensure a patient's health. A warm smile and some kind words can be just as effective at easing a patient's pain as medication. My biggest takeaway from this experience will be recognizing how important it is to be mindful of how one projects themselves to others, especially when the quality and level of success of the profession hinges upon it. To see some of the nurses so annoyed with their patients and their jobs was really disheartening.
It's also why I took my other responsibility - rounding on patients - so seriously. I knew that there physical needs were being met, but I wanted to make sure they were receiving emotional aid as well. It was as simple as knocking on their door and checking in on them, asking how their day was going and seeing if they needed anything, that could make a huge difference for them. While many wanted privacy, most of them I could tell really appreciated that I took the time to see how they were doing. I tried to engage them in conversations as best as I could, especially for those patients who would just stare glassy eyed at the walls, waiting to get better so they could leave. Being stuck in the hospital in such a way is not a fun experience. People aren't meant to be cooped up in a single room and restricted to the confines of their bed. By rounding on them, I was providing that touch of humanity they needed in order to hold on to their's. It made me realize that what healthcare providers need is something more than just bedside manner. In fact, the term "bedside manner" sounds cold and distant, even though its purpose is to bring the provider and patient closer together. The phrase seems to imply a formula for behavior, when really what should be guiding a provider at the bedside is a genuine sense of care and concern for the patient. The best physicians shouldn't need "bedside manner" because it should be something they already possess intrinsically if they care for the patient.
By the time I had completed my 100 hours at the hospital, I felt pretty great about the work I had done there. Initially I had felt a little marginalized given my limited scope of practice, but I came to realize that even though I wasn't responsible for determining anything major in the care of the patient, all the little things I did actually ended up determining whether a patient might leave satisfied and happy with his care. Even as a physician, I'll remember that there's more to care than just prescribing medication: a patient is not a body to be fixed, but a person to be healed.