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Editor's
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When Gandhi was asked, "What is truth?" he replied, "Each man’s version." Everything is relative. How much is enough? What are you worth? What is the value of a nursing presence at the bedside? The answer is as rhetorical as the question: "Each nurse’s version" is just a bit more than I have or am paid. The response reflects the perception of the individual. This issue of NurseWeek explores nursing salaries. Our Web site offers a place to make comparisons based on the standard of living in various parts of our nation. Concrete translation of salary differences can be evaluated in helping to make relocation decisions. What is missing from such a service is a measurement for quality-of-life issues. We in the Midwest could travel to either coast and receive greater compensation for the same work we do here. Those who choose to stay put a premium on prairie life, less crowded streets and communities, Midwest values and a slightly slower pace. A friend from New York became frightened when driving through South Dakota for 30 minutes without seeing a car, while I frantically searched for the stars as we walked a well-lit New York street at night. Home is where the heart is. While quality of life is central to living well, monetary compensation also is important, for it facilitates choices and experiences. As we scan the health care landscape, union activity is high. You can hear the cry for more equitable wages and salaries in comparison to other professionals. The discerning ear hears more, however. The root of the unrest lies in issues surrounding quality of care, safety and balanced personal and professional lives, which are shifted through mandatory overtime. It’s about shrinking nurse resources and growing demands from a public whose general health is deteriorating. It’s about a public that holds nurses in high esteem, but low on the career scale. Mother Teresa was revered by society, but not many rushed in to share her life of self-denial and poverty. "Whose fault is this?" a blaming culture might ask. This type of dialogue is divisive, unproductive and keeps efforts small for fear of being the next to be punished. Blaming makes the most complex issues simple: "It’s so-and-so’s fault." "Get rid of them or get even." Health care is a complex and mature industry. It is highly regulated, locked in by professional gridlock, hampered by payment structures that are inadequate and overtapped by some consumers who refuse to take accountability for their own health status. A culture that stays in dialogue and shares the responsibility for the issue at hand has more hope of resolution and reconciliation. Desmond Tutu told a large crowd how he and Nelson Mandela brought Africa together after apartheid, stating, "Revenge closes off the future, while reconciliation guarantees a future." He then told the story of how they used one simple strategy to heal a culture torn by strife. All were invited into conversations; victims and perpetrators alike joined in to tell their stories. No response was allowed; all the attendees could do was listen. When the full story was told, the complexity of the drama was understood. True transformation lies in the dialogue you’ve not had before. Nurses, you are priceless. The public loves and depends on you. The health care industry needs you, just as you need all the colleagues and support services that healing institutions offer your career. But the industry is in trouble. No one person or group has created this crisis, nor can they solve it. Only when all join together with a spirit of respect to collectively review the situation can strategies for managing the crisis be co-created. We might even be so bold as to include the patient in the dialogue—giving them what they want and need, rather than what we think they must have. Here may be the greatest savings of all! What
do you think? |
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NEWS
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