Why making a bed matters

As part of our preparation for an upcoming clinical in Medical/Surgical nursing, my class has been assigned a group of videos on clinical nursing skills. I've been wading through stuff like how to take vital signs and how to administer injections. In between those items, there's how to fix a bed and how to give a bath.

I remember bristling at learning those skills back when I was a 20 year old nursing student and I felt those hackles rising in me again viewing these videos.

See, I guess I have a chip on my shoulder about nursing. We're expected to make nursing diagnoses and decide on nursing interventions. We're expected to assess for and recognize potential complications of any disease process. In medical/surgical nursing, we're expected to know the potential complications of dozens of disease processes and surgical procedures. And still, what the profession is known for is bed baths and bed pans.

It is funny. My mom is totally shocked at the amount of sheer information I'm processing these days. Like her amazement at how big my Medical/Surgical book is.

I asked her, "So Mom, was your Med/Surg book this big?"

Her reply, "No. Back then we weren't trying to be doctors."

I don't think I am trying to be a doctor. Or that we as nurses are trying to be doctors. I'm just trying to be a good nurse. I mean, who really ever wants to be sick, in pain, or simply be in the hospital? We nurses diagnose and treat people's reactions -- physical and emotional -- to illness and disease. We nurses try to make our patients' experiences more bearable, let our patients feel more empowered, and at the core, more like themselves. Sometimes that means giving a pain med, or advocating for more pain med. Sometimes it means frequent assessments and vigilance to recognize potential complications. And yeah, sometimes that means changing a bed for a patient so they can feel more comfortable in a decidedly uncomfortable hospital room. And sometimes it means giving somebody a bedpan -- all without making a face, without conveying that it is uncomfortable for both the patient and the nurse, but at the same time respecting that discomfort.

An aside: If you ever have the privilege to watch Taylor's Video Guide to Clinical Nursing Skills Student Set on CD-ROM, you must catch my absolute favorite scene. It is on CD 2 under the heading, "Preparing a Sterile Field: Pre-packaged Kits." The scene is an elderly gentleman being faced with the prospect of having an indwelling catheter inserted. Sadly, we don't get to watch the insertion (at least not on that video) but right before the end, the instructor says something to the effect of, "Now let's begin the catheterization." She says this in the absolute most cheery Doris Day voice. But right at the end of the scene, she takes a look directly at the patient with an inscrutable expression -- reminding me of Dana Delaney in Exit to Eden. I don't know why, but it just makes me laugh each time I see it.