As a registered nurse, I took an oath to treat all of my patients equally, regardless of race, color, nationality, religion, sex, or anything else. So, it appalls me when I read stories about doctors, nurses, and even whole hospitals refusing to treat unvaccinated patients. THAT’S POLITICS – NOT HEALTHCARE. If you work in healthcare, you take all the necessary precautions, and you get in there and treat the patient, regardless of your personal feelings. Otherwise, you deserve to lose your license to practice.
In 2008, America had become color-blind enough to elect the first black President, Barack Obama. My husband and I both voted for him and were proud to do so at that time. And yet, here we are, thirteen years later, backsliding as a society into judging people by their superficial appearance and using race, prejudice, and bias to judge and condemn other people. It’s become a real epidemic, and frankly, I’m sick of it, because – once again – this is POLITICS, PROFILING, and BULLYING – something people claim to abhor.
When I was a registered nurse fresh out of school, the housekeeper on our hospital unit refused to clean the room of an AIDS patient. She was afraid, and the hospital sent her home. I volunteered to clean the room since I had established a positive rapport with the patient. I donned the appropriate gear and cleaned the room. While I was in there, she and I conversed, and she revealed how isolated and alienated she felt from other people. I took care of her many times after that incident. And I’m glad I did, because she died a few years later. She was only in her late thirties when she passed away. She was annoying in so many ways! She was demanding and obnoxious! And she had very poor hygiene. She came into the hospital with lice more than once. But she was suffering both physically and emotionally. She was human. I learned a valuable lesson about courage and acceptance. And I never got HIV/AIDS or lice from my interactions with her.
One morning, when I was starting my shift on an inpatient psychiatric unit, two Native American clients came up to me and started complaining about the nightshift nurse. They claimed she was rude to them and, therefore, must be a white supremacist racist who hated natives. Now, I knew this RN very well. I empathized with them because, yes, she could be very rude and abrasive to anybody. But racist? I smiled and informed them that she was a card-carrying member of the Cherokee tribe in Oklahoma. In fact, she is a direct descendant of Sequoyah, the Cherokee who created the first Cherokee language syllabary. The response I got was, “Well, THAT tribe will let anybody in!” However, they both looked very foolish and never mentioned it again. I informed the RN that patients had complained about her being rude, and that was the end of it.
Another morning, it was very early, and the only client awake and in the dayroom was a black man from Africa. He was ranting and raving about how racist the staff were and how victimized he felt. I got sick of hearing about it because I knew it wasn’t true. We had a very diverse team of workers who were black (some from Africa), Hispanic, Native American, white, gay, etc. I had never witnessed any incidences of racism or overheard any racist remarks made by staff on the unit. We all took pride in working as a team to treat our patients fairly, equally, empathetically, and compassionately. I slammed my fist down on the table, which shocked both my co-worker and the client, and said, “Bullshit!” He stopped ranting and raving, and then we talked about what was really bothering him. He was Muslim and needed a place to say his prayers. So I got him blankets and towels and whatever else he needed, and he went into a private place and said his prayers. He never talked about racism again, he participated in the program, and he was discharged a few days later. It may sound rough, but getting past the racism barrier helped this gentleman get the help he needed. I have never lied to my patients and never will. And sometimes the truth, no matter how raw, is what turns people around and sets them free from the demons they are fighting
The counselors on our inpatient psychiatric unit did not like talking to psychotic patients because they saw no value in it. However, I disagreed and always made a point of talking to them, if for no other reason than to establish some kind of rapport. One client was so manic, she was completely psychotic. She would crawl around on the floor, imitating different animals, eat with her hands, and refuse to talk to anybody. This had been going on for a while, without any improvement. One day, when I came on shift, she was in the quiet room talking to herself, dancing, jumping up and down, and basically “bouncing off the walls.” I sat in there for twenty minutes listening to her, asking her questions, and listening for that “thread of truth” that often came through when psychotics babbled on. It became clear to me as I listened to her that she just wanted to be normal and to be treated like everybody else. When I began talking to her about this, she nodded her head and suddenly stopped what she was doing. She calmed down. After that, she stopped all of her bizarre behaviors, took her medications, and quickly got well enough to go home. Why? Because somebody took the time to listen to her and look past her bizarre behavior.
As a registered nurse, especially as a psychiatric nurse, I have seen people at their worst and their ugliest. I have been called names, threatened, and ignored. I have never let that stop me from helping someone, if I could help them. And it has been the difficult ones, the ones who make you want to tear your hair out, who have been the most rewarding, — because they are the people who truly need the help.
Dawn Pisturino, RN
November 6, 2021
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