My name is Sarah Pospisil, and I have just wrapped up my clinical rotation in St. Paul, MN. One of my favorite parts of my clinical rotation was building rapport with inpatients that I saw multiple times. This is rare in an acute care setting, as most patient care is just a few days. However, there was a cancer patient that changed my entire view of inpatient care.
My cancer patient was actively receiving chemotherapy and radiation, was experiencing side effects with chemo, had a small bowel obstruction that resulted in a bowel resection with an ileostomy and to top it off, she met sepsis criteria. On my initial assessment, I met a woman who was sad, scared and confused. She was anxious that she could not take care of herself with an ostomy, and she was scared that her cancer was going to kill her. She was tearful as she told me she felt she was a burden to her family. Due to her severe malnutrition, I started her on TPN that visit. We talked about important steps to take when she restarted eating and how to restrict fiber. We talked about how to eat while receiving cancer treatment, and I provided emotional support for her, reminding her she was in a great place, surrounded by medical professionals to help her get better. I encouraged her to let others help her. She thanked me that first visit.
Over the weeks, I saw her every five days and watched this woman become comfortable with changing her ostomy bag and become physically stronger as the TPN was helping her meet her nutritional needs. I watched my patient become more confident and take ownership of her illness. Every visit we had, she told me about how much better she felt, or the difficulties she was facing that particular day. She would tell me about her family and her life before she got sick. I think both of us were excited for every visit we had. After five weeks in the hospital, she decided to discharge home on hospice care, as there was nothing more the hospital could do for her, but I watched this woman—an ill, depressed cancer patient—transform into a confident, fighting life-lover. I visited her the day before she discharged for one last assessment. She told me she was ready to go home. I had never seen a person more at peace in my life. This patient gave me a gift. She taught me how important it is to have an open mind and an open heart every time I go into a patient’s room. We can provide so much more than nutritional support when we sit down and listen to our patients. We change their lives, and if we are lucky, they change ours.
My cancer patient was actively receiving chemotherapy and radiation, was experiencing side effects with chemo, had a small bowel obstruction that resulted in a bowel resection with an ileostomy and to top it off, she met sepsis criteria. On my initial assessment, I met a woman who was sad, scared and confused. She was anxious that she could not take care of herself with an ostomy, and she was scared that her cancer was going to kill her. She was tearful as she told me she felt she was a burden to her family. Due to her severe malnutrition, I started her on TPN that visit. We talked about important steps to take when she restarted eating and how to restrict fiber. We talked about how to eat while receiving cancer treatment, and I provided emotional support for her, reminding her she was in a great place, surrounded by medical professionals to help her get better. I encouraged her to let others help her. She thanked me that first visit.
Over the weeks, I saw her every five days and watched this woman become comfortable with changing her ostomy bag and become physically stronger as the TPN was helping her meet her nutritional needs. I watched my patient become more confident and take ownership of her illness. Every visit we had, she told me about how much better she felt, or the difficulties she was facing that particular day. She would tell me about her family and her life before she got sick. I think both of us were excited for every visit we had. After five weeks in the hospital, she decided to discharge home on hospice care, as there was nothing more the hospital could do for her, but I watched this woman—an ill, depressed cancer patient—transform into a confident, fighting life-lover. I visited her the day before she discharged for one last assessment. She told me she was ready to go home. I had never seen a person more at peace in my life. This patient gave me a gift. She taught me how important it is to have an open mind and an open heart every time I go into a patient’s room. We can provide so much more than nutritional support when we sit down and listen to our patients. We change their lives, and if we are lucky, they change ours.
