A story about a nurse, her willingness to defend herself, and dedication to her work.
It was my first day on the unit as a professional nurse in the role of charge nurse. I had on my official nursing uniform: crisp white dress, white nylons and the comfortable nursing shoe with the wedged heel.
It was medication time on the medium size medical-surgical unit, and I was excited to be the charge nurse responsible for administering all IV medications for the LPNS on the floor.
As I was standing at the med cart, looking at the hand-written medication cards, I noticed the aide was reading a magazine at the nursing station. In the back of my mind, I was thinking "Doesn't she have some work to do? Oh well.” I needed to stay focused on the numerous tasks I needed to complete before the end of the shift.
All of a sudden, I hear Dr. X screaming as he approached me, yelling that Mr. Z, in Room 315, needed to be changed, and so did his bed. I slowly turned around, with IV tubing in one hand, 1 bag of D5LR on my shoulder, and the red charge keys dangling from my wrist. I looked him in his eyes and said “Tell the aide.”
His eye widened and he shouted back at me, “Aren't you the aide?” Remember, the aide was sitting at the nursing station that he stormed right by, to get to me. I looked him firmly in the eyes, and with much pride stated, “I am the RN, BSN, charge nurse on this floor tonight. Why did you think I was the aide? Besides that, you walked the aide reading, yet you only say me. Why is that?”
He abruptly turned and scurried away saying, “I didn't know we had Black RNs on this unit.”