Nurse-midwife Sister Angela Murdaugh, MSN, RN, left a comfortable
job in Washington, D.C., to build and run a birth center for families
in the desperately poor community of the Rio Grande Valley in
Texas.
Chris Riccitelli,
RN, PHN, a school nurse in Southern California, went to the home
of a terrified high school girl to tell the girl's father that
his daughter needed surgery as a result of a sexually transmitted
disease.
Daryl Young,
MS, FNP, RN, director of a university student health center in
Anchorage, Alaska, promised the parents of a patient who needed
a tonsillectomy that he would visit their child in the hospital
for them because by the time they could fly to Alaska, the operation
would be over.
Kyle Burnis,
RN, CCRN, a critical care nurse in Mesa, Ariz., realized why she
became a nurse when she cared for patients as a volunteer in a
West African hospital.
These nurses,
all of whom were among the finalists or winners in NURSEWEEK's
Nursing Excellence Awards program, are examples of nurses who
go above and beyond their commitment to their profession and their
communities. To find out what makes an exceptional nurse, we asked
them to explain why and how they remain devoted to nursing in
the face of obstacles that many nurses confront: low pay, poor
benefits, constraints on time, constant paperwork.
We received
some interesting answers. These nurses do not see themselves as
heroes. They call themselves "problem solvers" or "instruments
in the healing process." They consider themselves lucky to
do the work they do. They refer to their profession as "a
calling." They would not unequivocally recommend nursing
to a young person choosing a profession.
They don't
get a lot of sleep.
They have
certain characteristics in common, including some they don't always
mention. They are creative. They dare to take risks. They have
vision. They value the challenges and rewards of autonomy. They
see themselves as champions of those who cannot negotiate the
health care system-the poor, the young, the isolated. They want
to give back to their communities.
And all believe
in doing their jobs as well as they can, despite the obstacles.
Because that's the only way they can face themselves when they
go home.
More than
their words, their deeds answer the question: Why be a nurse?
In the
genes
At nursing school graduation ceremonies, Sister Murdaugh tells
students: "If you do not feel called to this
do me
a favor and don't practice."
Sister Murdaugh
refers to her own calling to be a nurse-midwife and a member of
a holy order as "a double vocation." She said she knew
she wanted to work with mothers and babies the minute she set
foot on the maternity floor as a nursing student.
"My mother
was an OB nurse, so I guess I came by it in my genes," she
said.
For nearly
the last 20 years, Sister Murdaugh has chosen to answer her calling
by serving as director of the Holy Family Birth Center in Weslaco,
Texas. The birth center's bright-yellow buildings are made of
pressed wood and cement blocks, like most of the dwellings in
the dusty valley on the Mexican border.
She and her
staff live at the center. They are available night and day to
parents and children who need them.
They offer
prenatal care, well-baby visits, natural labor and delivery and
other health services to mostly Spanish-speaking families who
often have nowhere else to go. In return, many families work at
the center, doing laundry, yard work and cooking. Their children
play on the grounds. At midday, they sit down to a nutritious
meal, sometimes the only one they'll have.
Sister Murdaugh
used to work in Washington, D.C., as president of the American
College of Nurse-Midwives. But before going to Washington, she
worked at a clinic in the Rio Grande Valley in Texas. She wanted
to return and build her own birth center from the ground up. After
much grant writing, coalition building, handshaking and calling
in favors, she got her wish.
Sister Murdaugh
and the nurses who work with her don't think much about pay or
benefits, she said. When you serve poor people, you don't expect
much in the way of monetary compensation, she said. But she never
has a shortage of workers.
The nurses
determine their own hours and make their own decisions about patient
care. "That kind of autonomy is important to nurse-midwives,"
she said. But the main source of job satisfaction is "that
you feel the people you work with are on the same wavelength as
you are." She also derives great satisfaction when a woman
who has had a baby at the birth center obtains insurance and the
opportunity to go to a hospital, but comes back to the birth center
instead. Or when a little boy lifts a doll to his chest and pretends
he's breast-feeding a baby.
Nurses who
are unhappy in their work should think about changing jobs or
trying something new so they can do what they are called to do,
Sister Murdaugh said.
"What
draws me to nursing is that it makes me happy. It just plain makes
me happy," she said. When she isn't nursing, she's fishing
or playing cards with her neighbors. If she had to live her life
again, she said, she wouldn't change a thing. "On my tombstone,"
she said, "I want them to write: Here lies Sister Angela.
She had pizazz."
After five
years of hospital nursing, Chris Riccitelli realized her job wasn't
giving her the satisfaction she wanted. She hated the schedule
and felt she wasn't spending enough time with her family. Her
husband was a teacher, and she decided to try school nursing.
She has never looked back.
"It's
kind of like being a big fish in a little pond, vs. being a little
fish in the big pond," she said, comparing her job with the
Vista (Calif.) Unified School District to her hospital job. "I'm
the health expert in my department and that's allowed me to soar."
Making
a difference
Riccitelli has worked with every age group. She started with high
school, developing substance abuse and pregnancy prevention programs.
She moved to middle school and now works with special education
students in elementary and preschool.
"I've
really had diversity and that's what's kept me excited and interested,"
she said. School nursing allows her to plan and develop events
such as health fairs and workshops. Before she became a school
nurse, she could never have imagined herself addressing a crowd.
Now she does it without thinking. She loves setting up nutrition,
asthma and dental programs.
"I think
that's where I belong, as a community health nurse," she
said.
She also has
many students who haven't forgotten her, including a special education
student, now 30 years old, who still writes, calls and sends her
pictures. And there's the high school student who had been treated
at a clinic for a virus that causes venereal warts and was told
she needed permission from her parents to have surgery to remove
them. "She was scared to death to tell her dad," Riccitelli
said. So Riccitelli offered to tell him herself.
She knocked
on the door that evening and was greeted by a large, imposing
man. After she told him, he crumpled into a chair, but eventually
accepted the news. Six or seven years later, Riccitelli met up
with the student, who was working as a model. "She said that
she would never forget what I had done," Riccitelli said.
"I would
never get out of nursing. [I love] the fact that you're autonomous,
you have this opportunity to make a difference in someone's life
and you can work on prevention." To anyone considering a
career as a nurse, she says, "You have to look at what your
goal in life is. Is your goal to make as much money as possible
or is it to make a difference? Nurses can make a difference and
to me that's the ultimate reward."
Alaskan
outreach
There are a lot of things Daryl Young would like to change about
his job. The low pay. The paperwork he forces himself to do every
afternoon when he'd rather see patients. The cramped space in
his facility. A health care system that denies care to many of
his patients who don't have health insurance or money.
But Young,
who created the Student Health Center at the University of Alaska
in Anchorage 10 years ago, continues to come in every weekday
at 6:30 a.m. and works for nine or 10 hours without a break. His
staff hates it when he answers phones because he can't turn anyone
away, no matter how busy the clinic is. He finds time to organize
education and outreach campaigns and community efforts such as
helping the state health department give immunizations during
epidemics.
Much of Young's
work displays a playful creativity. To reach depressed students,
he set up a "Lucy Booth," based on the Peanuts character
who offered psychiatric counseling for 5 cents. Five years ago,
he organized a drive-through flu shot clinic that allowed people
to drive up, stick their arms out the window and get a shot. The
annual clinic has been featured on the news and is now a popular
community event.
Young can't
remember why he became a nurse. "I honestly don't know what
the motivation was for it all. It's part of who I was," he
said. "It's a process, a process of growing up and maturing."
He wakes at
4:30 a.m. to run and exercise. His exercise time is sacred. It
helps him face the days when his job is especially difficult,
when he must tell a patient he or she is HIV-positive. Or when
he sees patients like the one who needed the tonsillectomy, who
have no money and no health insurance. "I've gone as far
as I can with them, what more can I do?" Young said.
Still, he
doesn't give up. He spent 20 minutes reassuring the parents of
the tonsillectomy patient. The least he could do, he said, was
to visit their child in the hospital in their stead. Being a nurse
means stepping out of yourself, he said, to do what's right for
someone else.
"I believe
that when you do something, you do it well and you do it with
pride," he said. "I think people are drawn to nursing
and you need to go where your heart is. Whatever it is, it's drawing
you and you'd better do it right."
Around
the world
The beauty of nursing, said Kyle Burnis, is that it has no limits.
Nursing has taken Burnis to Africa and the Middle East. It has
taken her to an American Indian reservation to teach, to an animal
shelter to find foster homes for dogs, to health fairs to take
blood pressures and to charity events to work as an auctioneer.
Burnis is
a full-time critical care nurse at Lutheran Heart Hospital and
also works as a helicopter nurse, but her greatest nursing adventures
and satisfaction have come from the work she isn't paid for.
For a long
time, Burnis wondered why she had become a nurse. She didn't have
the need to hold hands or give backrubs, the way some nurses did,
she said. Then she accompanied a physician to Africa to do open-heart
surgeries in a hospital there. "I knew at that moment, this
is why I became a nurse," she said. "To volunteer. To
share my skills."
In Africa,
she watched nurses cut saline bottles in two to make water cups
for their patients. They used IV tubing as straws for people who
couldn't sit up. She practiced bedside nursing in a way that she
could not at her job, where time is short, patients are many and
hospital policy dictates what nurses can and can't do.
"I'm
not really able to spread my wings," she said, "and
when I volunteer, I can."
Nurses who
want to give something back should start by taking 10 minutes
out of the day to think about why they entered the profession,
she said. Then they should think about where their interests lie.
If they like
the outdoors, they might consider working for an outfitter. If
they like teaching, they could tutor or participate in a health
care community outreach program. If they feel disturbed by seeing
a homeless person on the street, they can work at a clinic for
the homeless.
She recommends
starting out small-volunteering for a group such as the American
Heart Association. She herself got started when a friend talked
her into working one Saturday at a health fair, taking blood pressures.
She has never stopped. Now, she is helping to establish a clinic
for the homeless, gathering supplies for a trip to Africa, gathering
information to set up an open-heart surgery program on the Ivory
Coast, working at a local animal shelter and helping direct local
supplies and money to the Red Cross to help victims of the terrorist
attacks in New York and Washington, D.C.
"As a
nurse, the sky is the limit," she said. "There is not
one thing a nurse cannot become involved in. All you have to do
is have a dream and you can make your nursing profession into
your dream."