I am the only member of my family to go into nursing. While it’s frustrating when I don’t really have anyone to turn to who understands exactly what it is that I am talking about, I’ve always liked being the pioneer heading into uncharted territory. Everyone has always supported me through it, and are especially proud of my progress and the high standards that I set for myself when it comes to my education. But lately there’s one part about it that I just can’t handle very well.
We’ve had our share of medical issues this past few months. From gall bladder surgeries to broken bones, I come home from the hospital and there are new comments from the doctor, new lab results to analyze. They know that I am just starting out, but I am the one who’s read the books, the one who has seen something somewhere that must have been similar. And I want to help. I want to be able to answer those questions, but I can’t. I don’t know if it was a bad idea to use a soft cast vs. a hard one, and I don’t know how severe the diagnosis is. I wish I did, but I don’t. I can’t.
There is a reason that as health care providers we aren’t allowed to practice on family when they become the patient. We can’t do it. I think our ego wants us to. We want to be the ones that were able to figure it out and solve the mystery, but our Â emotions get in the way. As much as I want to know how to interpret those results. I am just as scared as everyone else to find out.