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Posts tagged ‘Media’

What Would #ThisNurse Say? Nurse Pham: You’re a Hero. Media: More Nursing, Less Puppy Love.

This post is by CHMP’s graduate fellow, Amanda Anderson, RN. Amanda is a practicing bedside nurse in Manhattan, and a student in the Hunter-Bellevue School of Nursing‘s dual MSN/MPA program with Baruch College. At HBSON, she co-directs The Nurses Writing Project, a nurse-specific writing program that uses peer-based collaborative writing assistance and reflective writing practices to grow nurse leadership via the written word. She blogs here, and for a number of other nursing sites. Find her clips via her blog, This Nurse Wonders. She tweets @12hourRNcalllightI think it’s safe to say that most of us can detect when the media is spinning a story. Whether telling or being told, news is often flung wildly across print, television and social media at the whim of the deliverer. We all know the power the media has to shape the way we think, just as much as we all know what to expect when we turn on Fox News.

But since we’re rarely included in the media, nurses may not realize that this week, we became its biggest victim. Our poster child? America’s first recipient of transmitted Ebola, Nurse Nina Pham of Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas.

On Tuesday, likely to quell the anger of nurses over the CDC’s wording on the cause of Pham’s diagnosis, the Times ran the story, “Ebola Puts Nina Pham, a Nurse Unaccustomed to the Spotlight, in Its Glare” Written by Jack Healy, the story came nicely packaged with a photo of the young, beautiful woman on her cell phone, assurances of Nurse Pham’s stable state of rest, that she checks her charts twice, and that her little dog is safe.

To pick one story on this evolving topic is difficult. But I believe a quick dissection of the Times initial coverage of Nurse Pham is most vital to the nursing community in our current state of Ebola dialogue. With it, the media has stuck us in the age-old angel corner, and in doing so, largely distracted us from spinning our own evidence-based, intelligent tale.

Here’s where I think we, the expert nursing community, went missing in this piece, and what we might have added by way of a credible, clear and constructive defense to Nurse Pham, and an attempt to gain control of the dialogue about nursing in the shadow of Ebola.

Nurse Pham is a professional.

The Times cited a friend of Pham’s, a Jennifer Joseph, titling her simply as a former colleague. Joseph later outs herself as a nurse, saying that Pham helped her orient to the ICU. She also speaks on Pham’s character, which is the only instance when the Times spins Pham’s breach – she’s a conscientious, nice nurse, how could have…made a human error?

Not once does the Times speak of Pham’s experience as a nurse. They disclose that she graduated from an accelerated degree program, but they do not tell the public what this means – that this is the equivalent of a Bachelor’s degree. No quantification of her experience as an ICU nurse is made.

How different the spin of this article would have been if the reporter included the remarks and expertise of an experienced nurse to address Pham’s ICU experience, professionalism, and the role that the hospital played – or did not play – in preparing their nursing staff. This missed media opportunity likely did little but distract a public already entering mid-panic over the competency and protection of its most trusted profession.

Whether Pham has little ICU experience, or she is a nationally recognized critical care specialist, a discussion of her professionalism as a nurse by a nurse, remains an opportunity too valuable to miss. Without our voices, the Times spins us into the numb land of human interest – beautiful, young, saintly nurse turned patient – and away from a much-needed dialogue on what makes a nurse credibile, and what a credible nurse actually does at the bedside.

Nurse Pham is a victim of poor training.

As an experienced MICU nurse who cared for critically ill patients during the deadly 2008 H1N1 epidemic, my first question about Nurse Pham would have been: “What was the protocol that she breached, and how did her hospital prepare her?” Instead, this article had me wondering what might happen to her dog. By focusing on personal attributes, the media created a cause, but with it, a distraction. Now, days and diagnoses later, the truth of the hospital’s state of unpreparedness has finally surfaced via the voice of an angry nurse employee.

Whose fault is this initial soft spin? In my opinion, the nursing profession should shoulder part of the blame. Barring a very outspoken nursing union and a lot of social media drivel, many of us are not asking critical questions to critical media contributors. What exactly happened in that Texas hospital? Did the journalist reach out to Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital in Dallas and ask to speak to an expert infectious control nurse or nurse epidemiologist? Are these nurse experts reaching out to the media to pitch themselves as experts?

Likely, the question we all want an answer to – “What went wrong?” – will not be subject to conjecture for quite some time. Our outside perspective but inside nursing knowledge is direly needed to spin nursing’s take. By asking about the nature of Pham’s training and her employer’s lack of preparedness, expert nurse voice could act as the vehicle for shifting the Ebola debate towards the discussion of a systems-level problem of neglect towards nurses, that existed long before the virus entered our land.

Nurse Pham should be our example, not our media darling.

While my thoughts go out to Nurse Pham, who is undergoing what I can only define as every nurse’s nightmare, I think we do ourselves a disservice as a profession to jump into the human spin of her story. As American Academy of Nursing president, Diana Mason aptly said to NPR this week, “If your hospital’s not prepared for Ebola, the nurses will know it.” When we focus on fluff, and do not speak critically with the media on the details of our care, we keep vital, nurse-specific observation points from policy makers.

Want the CDC to change their PPE protocol? Stop threatening to strike for specific items and instead study their recommendations on PPE procedure. Look at pictures of Ebola in Africa; recognize its theft of humanity, and that it is a threat to many more lives than just our own.

Then, talk to your media outlets and spin nursing’s story in ways that count. Talk about your experiences with PPE training, now and in the past. Call in to your local radio station about the quality of your PPE at work and what it feels like to wear it – in an unbiased, factual manner. When you see a CDC policy that makes you scratch your head, refrain from tweeting it with a thoughtless comment, and look into it. Could you explain it better?

Ebola is nursing’s tracer-test – it exposes just how unsupported, and yet just how crucial we really are to America’s health. We should move away from blanket statements based in fear and not fact. Using Nurse Pham as our example, we must make ourselves available to the media as the experts that we are, demanding the policies necessary for vigilant Ebola care, while offering our expertise for their creation.

New Thursday Column: What Would #ThisNurse Say?

This post is by CHMP’s graduate fellow, Amanda Anderson, RN. Amanda is a practicing bedside nurse in Manhattan, and a student in the Hunter-Bellevue School of Nursing‘s dual MSN/MPA program with Baruch College. At HBSON, she co-directs The Nurses Writing Project, a nurse-specific writing program that uses peer-based collaborative writing assistance and reflective writing practices to grow nurse leadership via the written word. She blogs here, and for a number of other nursing sites. Find her clips via her blog, This Nurse Wonders. She tweets @12hourRN

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I love the New York Times, I really do. Above the shower in my tiny, windowless bathroom, hangs a clipped front page from March 17, 2004. A woman walks in front of a bodega’s flower display as snowflakes fall. She holds a cell phone, and like a true New Yorker, goes unphased by the flowers, the snow, and their ironically beautiful combination. I loved this photo then, when I was in college in rural Ohio – it was the personification of a city I knew I was destined for. I love it now, as I walk the same streets and continue to read the same paper.

But the longer I read, the more I realize that my beloved Times really doesn’t love me back. Sure, it loves me, the student, the reader, the art lover, and the citizen. But my New York Times doesn’t love me, the nurse. Day after day, I open to stories about topics that lead directly into the world of nursing – health care policy, Ebola coverage, even business innovations –with word after word, and quote after quote blatantly devoid of the opinions of our country’s largest and most trusted profession.

An article in today’s NYT discusses Ebola preparedness in New York City hospitals. Although “nurse,” and “the nurses,” are used in descriptions of personal protective equipment (PPE) upgrades, nurse opinion is not cited. An opportunity for public education on the risks of transmission is missed (arrow) – a perfect place for an experienced nurse to explain the process of donning, wearing, and removing PPE. The only nurse quoted in the article remains unnamed, described as, ” not authorized,” for identified comment, despite assumed position as a hospital employee.

I’ve written a few reflections about this absence on my own blog, and for HealthCetera. Many center around the seminal book, From Silence to Voice, where authors Bernice Buresh and Suzanne Gordon discuss the absence of nursing voice in mainstream media, and why this is a problem in dire need of a solution.

I believe our absence in papers like the Times says much more than any misquote or unauthorized sound bite we might fear – our silence infers that we, the nursing profession, has nothing to say. But from my experience at the bedside and in the policy world, I know this isn’t true; nurses have more to say that matters than most partners in health care teams. Maybe we just don’t realize this?

So, from now until I start seeing active solicitation of expert nurse opinion in my daily paper, I’ll write a column here on HealthCetera. This column, called, “What Would #ThisNurse Say?” will take one news article each week, and discuss the absence of nursing voice within its contents. It will then shed light onto what the article might look like with the presence of nursing voice. I’ll also give you tips on how to reach out to your local papers as a nurse expert, who to talk to at work to get your expert-quotes approved, and where to go when you want the inside-scoop on news from a nursing perspective.

Nursing is big, but we’re often ignored. We’re vital, but we’re always fighting replacement. Perhaps it’s time to enter into the media arena as the experts we are in the bedside arena – one newspaper quote after another. Join me every Thursday, here on HealthCetera, to do just that.

“Are You My Nurse?” The Importance of Claiming Professional Identity

This post is from CHMP Graduate Fellow, Amanda Anderson, RN’s blog, This Nurse Wonders. More frequently than not, Amanda writes toward her simple goal, “I want nurses to start talking.” Here, she muses on the importance of using titles in health care.

By neglecting to title ourselves, we allow others to paint us as whatever stereotype is the most convenient, or the most useful. Work by Richard Prince, Registered Nurse. 2002.

By neglecting to title ourselves, we allow others to paint us as whatever stereotype is the most convenient, or the most useful. Work by Richard Prince, Registered Nurse. 2002.

In their book, From Silence to VoiceBernice Buresh and Suzanne Gordon discuss the silence of the nursing profession in the media. Chapter after chapter, they expose how reluctant we are to share with the public the details of our job, how we hide behind the stereotypes and discriminations of our profession, and, most importantly, what we lose because of this silence.

I’ve picked it up again, after my first read years ago. It’s funny, to see the notes I scribbled in the margins then. Lots of ?!?!? and WHY DO WE DO THIS?! It’s not so funny, seven years later, to realize how much remains unchanged.

Over the weekend, on a bus ride back from a quick DC trip to see my sister, I read the chapter entitled, “Presenting Yourself As A Nurse.” I remember reading this so long ago, thinking their recommendation to introduce myself as “Nurse Anderson,” while expecting other providers to address me as such, seemed kind of dated. Do I want to be called Nurse Anderson by interns who are now, a growing handful of years younger than me? Kind of feels like being called “ma’am” by a stranger in the grocery store.

But they make a good point: the discrepancy between doctor’s and nurses title usage – doctor’s always introduce themselves as such, while nurses are often the mysteriously untitled profession – solidifies physician-identity in the mind of the patient and, ultimately, the public. Sure, when chatting at the nurses station, first-name basis between providers is fine, but in introductions to patients or family, first-name-only-nurses surrender their professional identity.

I floated to endoscopy yesterday. Assigned to man the recovery room with two other nurses, I pondered this identity challenge, and decided to conduct some experiments. As sleepy patients wheeled in from their various procedures, I’d give them a little shake, and with Buresh and Gordon in my brain, I’d say, “Hello! I’m Amanda, I’m a nurse,” to their crusty-eyed, confused gaze. Just coming out of twilight anesthesia, many marveled at the simplicity of my greeting, and its ability to provide them with much needed context. Not one of them asked me where they were, or who I was, and honestly, it felt good to title myself openly.

I used my new, identity-charged greeting all shift – when I called the pharmacy for medications, I said, “Hi! I’m Amanda, I’m a nurse calling from endoscopy.” When I phoned the operator to connect me to another unit, “Hi! I’m Amanda, I’m a nurse,” came easily, and I was shocked at how clearly it was received, and how many clarifications it saved me.

While I fluidly added my title to my introductions, making them direct and clear, I was amazed at how muddled and ambiguous my co-nurse’s greetings sounded in contrast. Smiling down at her sleepy patients, she said, time and time again: “Hello! I’ll be taking care of you.” Huh? Where am I? Who are you? Were the most common responses.

I’ll admit, I’ve said this phrase countless times. But hearing it in the shadow of Buresh & Gordon’s recommendations, made me wonder why we nurses think it’s acceptable – are we ashamed to call ourselves “nurse,” or do we just not recognize how important our title is?

In an era where nurses no longer have a recognizable image, where we all work in different capacities and at different levels, and where our education and practice is frequently called into question, it is becoming clearer and clearer how closely-linked the act of verbal title distinction is to our professional success. By neglecting to state who we are – the nurse – we give up control of our identity, our rights to our work, our voice as a profession; our silent namelessness allows us to become whatever stereotype is the most convenient, or the most useful.

My titling experiment cemented itself into forever-practice around three pm, when I prepared to call report on a patient who was returning to her bed on the floor. I asked the patient if she knew her nurse’s name, to speed up the phoning process. She told me it was Samantha, who I requested when I phoned the unit. “Oh, Samantha is the nurse’s aide, I’m Jane. I’m the nurse.” Damn.

All that work, all that time, all that expertise, all that knowledge, and the patient still has no clue who we are. A simple switch of the tongue might be a start to something big, nurses. While I may not introduce myself as Nurse Anderson just yet, I’ll definitely be seasoning my communications with my title from here on out.

Why Nurses Need A Google Doodle

National Nurses Day is less than a month away, and I’m not excited about it. I’ve received one too many “Code Brown Queen” cards in the span of my career. More frequently celebrated with cheesy, tongue-in-cheek gifts than genuine recognition of the achievement, skill and accomplishments of its 3.1 million members, this nurse wonders if it isn’t time to change things up on May 6th.

I don’t know about you, but I’ll pass on the joke-y cards, magnets and sweatshirts. I don’t need the swag or even the extra attention; I’m just doing the job I feel called to, after all. But since the holiday exists, I think we should use it as an opportunity to actually further the visibility of the nursing profession in a proactive and intelligent manner.

So, this year, I’m asking for the Nurses Week gift I actually want: Nurses and their supporters to demand a National Nurses Day Google Doodle. 

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Maybe, if the millions of Americans Googling something on May 6th saw a tribute to modern day nursing, we’d be able to start a conversation about our profession that’s long overdue. 

The Google Doodle team calls for suggestions that “celebrate interesting events and anniversaries that reflect Google’s personality and love for innovation.” Nursing was founded on the laurels of individuals who changed the course of medicine, and continues on the backs of nurses who daily care for and protect millions of lives through creative troubleshooting, critical thinking, and fast-paced decisions. Florence Nightingale practically discovered germ theory, most modern-day hospital procedure is based on nursing research, and any nurse who has worked short-staffed, survived the shift by relying on innovation.

So why hasn’t Google celebrated us since they started doodling 14 years ago? (To be fair, they did a small, somewhat belittling doodle for Nightingale’s birthday in 2008). 

I don’t blame Google for neglecting us every year, exactly. The trouble with us nurses, is we don’t talk about what we do. Our creativity and guile and innovative genius lays locked within the halls of our practice. The tiny work-arounds we find and share with each other at the bedside change lives, but are rarely known by anyone but nurses, much less understood publicly. Nursing research, although utilized in almost every existing medical decision and implemented at the Federal level, is often poo-pooed as a soft science. And for some reason, we can’t manage to break into Hollywood as anything but drug abusers or tyrants. We’re largely missing from policy debates, few of us have paced the floors of Congress, and the pages of our newspapers are void of our heroic stories and focused opinions. It’s time we start sharing what we do in a way that those we serve can understand.

With our foundations and our future in mind, I think nurses – all 3.1 million of us – as American innovators, need a shout out from Google, the portal of the universe, this National Nurses Day. Maybe, when we’re showcased on the most innovative website on the internet, our country will realize how much we deserve to be there, and we will start actively telling them why.   

So, here’s my plan: Starting this Sunday, I’ve e-mailed the Google Doodlers a suggestion for a doodle celebrating modern-day, living American nurses, calling attention to our innate innovative spirit. In each e-mail, I’m showcasing a living nurse innovator. Sunday, I wrote about Cathy Papia, a nurse from my hometown of Buffalo, who started the White Wreath Protocol, a simple way to alleviate the suffering that comes along with dying in an ICU when a hospice unit is unavailable. Monday, I told the doodlers about Mary Wakefield, the Obama-appointed administrator of the HRSA. Yesterday, doodlers got a briefing on the profoundly innovative contribution of UCSF’s Living Legend, Patricia Benner, and today, I reminded them of Carol Gino, whose voice has peppered the profession with innovative narrative for decades.

Tune in, and share: I’m posting the e-mails I send to the Google Doodle team on my blog, This Nurse Wonders, and I’ll re-hash here, on the Facebook page, Why Nurses Need A Google Doodle, and via @12HourRN.

Nurses are amazing, multi-faceted clinicians, inventors, policy makers, artists, problem-solvers and care-givers. Long before Google became a verb, “nurse” entered the language of the globe and changed it forever. We’re still here to tell our tales; perhaps Google will give us a boost.

Healthstyles: The ACA’s Health Home role in addressing substance use

Substance use disorder refers to a spectrum of excessive or harmful alcohol or drug use. In this segment of Healthstyles co-host Barbara Glickstein, RN, MPH, MS interviews Daliah Heller, PhD, MPH, an expert in Drug and Alcohol Policy Research. Dr, Heller talks about one specific provision in the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act, the Health Homes, will change the way we address substance use. These models of care have been charged with providing comprehensive care management, coordination, and health promotion to address the medical (physical), behavioral (substance use and mental health), and social support (eg, housing, transportation assistance) needs of this population. Dr. Heller talks about the potential benefits of this new model.

Tune in tonight at 11 PM on 99.5 FM or streamed live on wbai.org or listen to the full segment here.Dahlia Heller

 

 

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