My worst clinical day was _______

You know the day is off to a wonky start when you introduce yourself to your patient and say, "Hello, my name is Maryah and I will be your patient today." It was like rewinding back to day one of first semester when I had patient-phobia and no clue that patients and people are actually the same thing. Go figure. 

Thankfully, I shook off that bad start and had a lovely morning with my patient. My favorite part of the morning was definitely educating my patient on the benefits of kefir and how it's not actually just "spoiled milk". I would say it was a success too, because my patient had me explain exactly where it's located in the grocery store so that they could purchase it once they left the hospital. It's the little things that make nursing so wonderful. 

But the inverse is also true. 

I've never had an "Oh, my worst clinical day was _____" because my worst clinical day had never happened. I had always thought it would be when a patient died, or if I was involved in a huge ethical dilemma, and perhaps one day it will be that, but as of today my worst clinical is, well, today. 

Because I don't want to go into specifics for the sake of patient privacy, I can't say exactly what happened, so I apologize for the vagueness. I was simply popping in to say "hi" to a new patient that I had been assigned to 3 seconds previously, and asked the patient if I could do anything for them. They told me what they wanted, so I began to help them with that. 

There were about 7 residents in the same room with me and when it turned out that what I was doing was not what I was supposed to be doing (and before I had actually done it), one of the residents decided to yell at me about it. I don't even remember what words she said, all I know is that she had so much anger and indignation in her voice that whatever those words were made me feel like a worthless human being. She provoked a feeling within me of confusion and cowardice, and the entire time I had simply been caring for the patient. 

I have no problem admitting that I made a mistake and that I make mistakes all the time, messing up is part of being a student and hey, it's actually part of being a human too. Knowing that I won't do things right, I want others to tell me when I'm doing something wrong. I suppose that this resident did exactly just that, but it was her approach and the menace in her gaze that put my heart in flatline. Perhaps I had been right earlier when I said I was a patient, because a bed and a set of vitals may have been a good idea at that moment. 

Only one of the residents took the time to say with absolute compassion, "But thank you very much anyway," and honestly, that was the moment I realized how greatly I just wanted to collapse. I smilingly apologized, said I didn't know, the patient (who was in pain), was also saying sorry because they had forgotten about it themselves. There was nothing more I could do, so I hustled out of that room and into the kitchen where I tried some deep breathing techniques. They kinda worked. 

I got through the next 10 minutes doing some charting, but my nerves just wouldn't calm down. 

More deep breathing. Still just kinda worked.

 "Seriously," I tried saying to myself,  "it's no big deal, just let it go, no one was hurt." I walked down the hallway towards my instructor and we exchanged a rapid succession 5 second convo:

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you okay?"

"Yea-No, I'm not," my eyes brimmed with tears,  "I think I'm gonna go use the bathroom," I said while my voice still retained some remnant of stability. 

"Take as long as you need," came her response as I was already halfway to the break room. 

I cried and calmed myself down, only just to cry again. No one had told me that your worst days in nursing can look like this: that they can be the product of someone else's hurt pouring itself out upon you. Because I am convinced that her reaction and treatment of me came from a place of brokenness within herself. And though the entire "healthcare hierarchy" thing is mentioned, you never can understand what it's like till someone treats you with utter disrespect simply because you are a lowly student nurse. The rest of the day somehow went better, but the heavy feeling within me still hadn't dissipated, even after I returned home. Laying on my bed and contemplating the whole event, I realized what was dragging me down. 

This resident crushed me and made me feel pathetic, but I was letting her do so by dwelling on what had happened. I was giving her the power to make me cynical and hurt to the point where I could someday do the same thing she had done to me. The cycles of hurt and damaged pride never go anywhere, they just always continue and gather other victims along the way. Realizing this, I knew what I needed to do. 

It's the only thing I can do if I want to move on, to grow, and to become a healthcare provider who can work not just with patients but with doctors, technicians, housekeepers, and clerks. It's the only thing I can do if I want to be able to return next week and be confident in what I'm doing. 

In short, it's the only thing I can do if I want to take what happened and let it build me up rather than break me down. 

It's called forgiveness. 

I highly doubt she wants it from me, but that's besides the point. I forgive her because she couldn't have seen the extent or the depth of the hurt she had done to me. I forgive her because I cannot see the extent or depth of the hurt she feels. I forgive her because my Savior bled for her and rose from the dead for her just as much as He did so for me. I forgive her because I have been forgiven, and to not do so is to be ungrateful for what I have been freely given. 

My awesome lab friends whom I carpool with talked with me as we headed home: this is part of life, they said. This is part of working with other people who will treat you like a scumbag. It's unfortunate, yes, but what really is of importance is how you react to it, what you learn from it, and how you let it change you, whether it's for good or for bad. 

I'm not saying forgiveness is easy, because I would much rather victimize myself and harbor ill-thoughts against this person. But to do so would make me like her and honestly makes me feel downright depressed too, so for my own good and the good of everyone else I ever meet in this life, I can say with an open heart: Resident Whoever-You-Were, I choose to forgive you.