I've been wanting to write this post for a while, but have been stumbling around with the right words to use.
In healthcare there are secrets. Information that is not shared. Knowledge that is for only us. Top secret. For example: At "report" where one nurse informs another nurse about the happenings of each patient that day, I will hear, "Oh, he should be going home tomorrow, but don't tell him that because it's not for sure, and if he doesn't go home, he's gonna be ticked." Or "The doctor found a lump, but they haven't discussed it yet, so don't say anything."
Now, I'm pretty good at keeping secrets, and since I've become a nurse, I'm even better, but after so long of having all this pent up information in your head that never gets to come out, you start not even remembering them anymore. I can't even tell you the names of my patients from last week. Now maybe this is a good thing, but when you run into a patient at the grocery store and they know exactly who you are, but you can't even place them? Ouch. It's easy to forget when you have so many people and faces to think about, but some of them I want to remember. I want to remember that experience or that person's courage. I need the ability to form an "always remember" file in my head.
Then there is this other thing. HIPAA. The Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act. Because of this, if you call the hospital inquiring about a loved one, the answer you will get is this, "I'm so sorry, but because of our privacy policy I can't give you any information." Well, that's what I say. Usually people are pretty cool about this, but the other day....boy did I get an earful. I totally understand where people are coming from. Someone they love is in the hospital, they live far away and they just want to know whats going on and that everything's going to be okay. You have no idea how much I would love to calm their fears, but I can't.
These laws are put in place for very valid, specific purposes. So here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to continue to be very aware of this and only include nonspecific details on my blog with my various useless stories and you may notice that I've Xed out a few minor details in previous posts. I just don't want to walk the line at all.
RPI(random piece of information): Isn't it funny how toddlers always state the obvious? Example: taking blood from a little one. We poked her finger to get blood, trying to avoid a gauge needle. There were three of us in there and while the lab tech was milking her finger for blood and amidst her screams she states, "Look! My finger has blood on it." Yes, Sweetness there is blood on your finger. That's why we're all in here hanging out with you right now. It was the sweetest moment of the day. We patched it up with Dora band-aids and then I drove home laughing about her epiphany.
3 comments:
I know what you mean. It's hard when you are in a small town. People will say, "Oh, did so and so come to you for therapy? Do you know X?" Uggh. I hated being put in positions like that.
With my patients' family members, I tend to give basic information and offer to forward the phone call on the patient. However most of the time those family members are the patient's own children. You can be much more forthcoming with them. Especially when the patient doesn't understand and indicates they want you to explain it to their children.
The only time I don't do this is when that patient is on the DNP list. Or Do Not Publish. That means unless the patient specifically told me to talk to you, and what to tell you that I can't even acknowledge that they are a patient here.
That sucks when they aren't expecting to be excluded from the select group or were by mistake.
O the stuff you deal with! Sounds like this post should be under the heavy category.
I propose a toast to Dora band-aids and toddler epiphanies!!
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