“I’m actually going to get hit,” I think as I take a final look at the car coming towards me. “Why didn’t he stop at the stop sign?” The black metal connects with my bicycle. Smack. Windshield cracks. Crunch. I hit the asphalt. I’m up. Head hurts, swimming, hot, bleeding. Somebody is asking me if they should call 911. Yes. The police come, so does the ambulance. After a flurry of questions I’m off to the hospital.
This wasn’t the first time I’ve been hurt and needed medical care. My hobbies of snowboarding and long boarding have put me in the hospital two other times. But while the incidents have been different, the feeling that comes from being taken care of when I really need it has stayed the same. It’s a feeling of trust and security. It’s a feeling I get as soon as nurses start taking care of me.
Nurses are busy. They are on their feet all day and look after hundreds of patients with different problems. Anyone who has been to a hospital has seen this. As I sat down to get stitched up after the car hit me I told the male nurse I had been on my way home from the new student orientation for the College of Nursing at BYU. He chuckled and said, “I bet they told all the new students nursing is the greatest job in the world. What they don’t tell them is that they are going to be working their butts off every day.”
It amazes me that despite the high demand of their job, nurses are still able to treat each individual patient with compassion and care. Each time I’ve been to the hospital the nurses have listened to me, kept me informed and even joked around with me.
It’s because of this compassion and care that I didn’t question the nurse who started scrubbing gravel out of my raw hand with an alcohol wipe. She explained to me why she had to do it, and even though it hurt more than getting hit by the car I let her scrub. I trust nurses because they know what they’re doing and know what’s best for me.
I don’t think I could ever be a nurse. I got a tour of the College of Nursing’s simulation lab my first day on the job and got woozy just looking at a fake arm with a needle in it. But my aversion to needles and dread of bodily fluids only make me respect nurses more.
With 11 stitches in my forehead and some major road rash everywhere else, I was lucky to come away from the car accident without serious injury. But just as much as I’ll remember getting hit by a car, I’ll remember the way the nurses took care of me when I really needed it.
By Nate Brown—BYU College of Nursing public relations assistant