BARNEY NEWMAN
Daloni Carlisle
Then there is the named nurse. I have often found this concept somewhat elusive and when I hear people talk about it, in my head I hear ‘blah, blah, blah’. What I had not understood was how much it would matter to me that I knew the name of the nurse in charge of my care at all times.
Human face
Compassion makes good care great
Journalist Daloni Carlisle’s recent treatment for cancer has transformed her understanding of nursing nursing care looks like, to an emotional understanding of what it feels like – and it is powerful. Let’s start with compassion and what that feels like when you are scared and alone. I was blundering around the ground floor of a major London hospital looking for an outpatient clinic tucked away in the nether regions. A kind lady stopped and asked if I needed help. We were going the same way and had
SUMMARY
I have been writing about nursing and nurses since 1987 and, to be honest, thought I knew a thing or two. Recently I have discovered that there is a world of difference between knowing and feeling. I have covered initiatives like nurse prescribing, the named nurse and the productive ward, writing why they are A Good Thing. I have interviewed the great and the good, the unsung heroes. I have covered the less glorious too, with NMC hearings and inevitable articles on Mid Staffs. But it was not until I was at the receiving end of nursing care recently following a cancer diagnosis that I began to shift from an intellectual understanding of what great
a nice chat as we walked to the clinic. Ten minutes later, her head popped out of the nursing office to call me in. ‘We meet again,’ she joked. At the end of a thorough pre-operative assessment, through which we chatted and laughed while she expertly took the observations, she reached out spontaneously and hugged me. It was a gesture that turned an ordeal into something to remember with a smile.
Daloni Carlisle reveals how the compassionate nursing care she received in a London hospital following a recent cancer diagnosis has given her an ‘emotional understanding’ of what constitutes great nursing care. Author Daloni Carlisle is a freelance health journalist
At the start of each shift ‘my’ nurse would come in and introduce herself by name. Later my new nurse and my nurse from the last shift came to my bedside and did a handover in front of me, explaining what had happened and what was going to happen. I did not have to peer at name badges, I knew what to expect and I could say goodbye and thank you to the nurse who was leaving me. Does this matter? If you want to feel like a human who is cared for by a fellow human, yes, it does. I have done a lot of writing about the nursing role in empowering patients to do as much as they can. Again, this made intellectual sense but I often wondered whether it translated into an excuse not to do things that were needed. I was on the enhanced recovery programme, which aims to get patients mobile as quickly as possible after surgery. It felt like everyone on the ward was working to the same goal – and I was part of the team. No one forced me to do anything too fast; the safe pair of arms was always there to support me if I tried too much too soon. Some of the good care that I received was about systems, models and training in the right technical skills. What made it great was when the nurses cared enough to show kindness and compassion NS
NURSING STANDARD may 21 :: vol 28 no 38 :: 2014 21 Downloaded from RCNi.com by ${individualUser.displayName} on Nov 24, 2015. For personal use only. No other uses without permission. Copyright © 2015 RCNi Ltd. All rights reserved.
Daloni Carlisle
Then there is the named nurse. I have often found this concept somewhat elusive and when I hear people talk about it, in my head I hear ‘blah, blah, blah’. What I had not understood was how much it would matter to me that I knew the name of the nurse in charge of my care at all times.
Human face
Compassion makes good care great
Journalist Daloni Carlisle’s recent treatment for cancer has transformed her understanding of nursing nursing care looks like, to an emotional understanding of what it feels like – and it is powerful. Let’s start with compassion and what that feels like when you are scared and alone. I was blundering around the ground floor of a major London hospital looking for an outpatient clinic tucked away in the nether regions. A kind lady stopped and asked if I needed help. We were going the same way and had
SUMMARY
I have been writing about nursing and nurses since 1987 and, to be honest, thought I knew a thing or two. Recently I have discovered that there is a world of difference between knowing and feeling. I have covered initiatives like nurse prescribing, the named nurse and the productive ward, writing why they are A Good Thing. I have interviewed the great and the good, the unsung heroes. I have covered the less glorious too, with NMC hearings and inevitable articles on Mid Staffs. But it was not until I was at the receiving end of nursing care recently following a cancer diagnosis that I began to shift from an intellectual understanding of what great
a nice chat as we walked to the clinic. Ten minutes later, her head popped out of the nursing office to call me in. ‘We meet again,’ she joked. At the end of a thorough pre-operative assessment, through which we chatted and laughed while she expertly took the observations, she reached out spontaneously and hugged me. It was a gesture that turned an ordeal into something to remember with a smile.
Daloni Carlisle reveals how the compassionate nursing care she received in a London hospital following a recent cancer diagnosis has given her an ‘emotional understanding’ of what constitutes great nursing care. Author Daloni Carlisle is a freelance health journalist
At the start of each shift ‘my’ nurse would come in and introduce herself by name. Later my new nurse and my nurse from the last shift came to my bedside and did a handover in front of me, explaining what had happened and what was going to happen. I did not have to peer at name badges, I knew what to expect and I could say goodbye and thank you to the nurse who was leaving me. Does this matter? If you want to feel like a human who is cared for by a fellow human, yes, it does. I have done a lot of writing about the nursing role in empowering patients to do as much as they can. Again, this made intellectual sense but I often wondered whether it translated into an excuse not to do things that were needed. I was on the enhanced recovery programme, which aims to get patients mobile as quickly as possible after surgery. It felt like everyone on the ward was working to the same goal – and I was part of the team. No one forced me to do anything too fast; the safe pair of arms was always there to support me if I tried too much too soon. Some of the good care that I received was about systems, models and training in the right technical skills. What made it great was when the nurses cared enough to show kindness and compassion NS
NURSING STANDARD may 21 :: vol 28 no 38 :: 2014 21 Downloaded from RCNi.com by ${individualUser.displayName} on Nov 24, 2015. For personal use only. No other uses without permission. Copyright © 2015 RCNi Ltd. All rights reserved.
