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Two years ago, a cardiac care unit at an Indianapolis
hospital unveiled what its vice president for patient
care services calls "the patient room of the future."
Critical patients stay in the same private room from
admission to discharge. The 425-square-foot rooms have
ample space for families, complete with desks, pullout
beds and mini refrigerators. Acuity-adaptable headboards
can be closed down and hidden as a patient recovers.
The nursing station has disappeared. Instead, nurses
work at computers outside each room. They have everything
they need-medications, supplies, equipment-within six
to eight feet of the patient's bed.
But the most radical change has been in the attitudes
of caregivers. Critical care nurses and medical nurses
now work side by side on the same unit, as partners
with patients and their families. They no longer treat
families as visitors, but as valued members of the health
care team.
"It was really difficult for me, initially. The
only thing I'd ever done was ICU," said Kimberly
Browder, RN, a charge nurse on what now is called the
cardiac comprehensive critical care unit on the Methodist
campus of Clarian Health in Indianapolis.
Many nurses on the new unit couldn't handle the change
and quit. But Browder and others who stuck it out have
seen how families appreciate being able to help turn
a wife or shave a husband in the morning; how comfortable
patients seem to feel in the presence of friends and
family and how they seem to recover more quickly; and
how the unit has learned to work together as a team,
not just of nurses, but also of support staff, including
housekeepers.
"Now, I love it," Browder said. "I wouldn't
work anywhere else."
In past years, rules and practices at many hospitals
dictated that caregivers took care of patients while
families sat in coldly lit waiting rooms, paced corridors
or waited by the phone. But spurred by demands of patients
and families, shortened hospital stays that mean families
must do more home care and increasing evidence showing
the importance of family support during recovery, a
growing number of facilities such as Methodist are throwing
open the doors to patient rooms and telling families,
"Come in. We want you. We need you."
More hospitals are consulting staff, patients and families
when they design new hospitals and units. They're creating
comfortable patient rooms with extra beds and storage
spaces that encourage family and friends to stay for
as long as they and the patient wish. They're building
gardens and respite areas and putting art on the walls.
They're providing resource rooms, staffed by a designated
family helper, where patients and families can look
up information about a disease, find a nearby restaurant
or hotel room or check in with the office.
"The norm has changed in that we ask parents about
changes that we're making rather than assuming we know
what they want," said Lynel Westby, RN, director
of patient and family support services at Children's
Hospital and Regional Medical Center in Seattle.
For most of the last century, patients and families
considered physicians and nurses the experts, said Nancy
Hogan-Baur, MSN, RN, a partner in 5THink, a health care
consulting firm in Pasadena, Calif., that works with
architects and hospitals. They expected to be told what
to do. "It was an element of a parent-child relationship.
We [caregivers] didn't concern ourselves with the family
in the same way."
Now, patients' rights groups and organizations that
promote partnerships between clinicians and families,
such as the Institute for Family-Centered Care in Bethesda,
Md., hope to persuade caregivers that times have changed
and that health care consumers-patients and families-prefer
hospitals that allow them to be involved in care.
The Center for Health Design in Pleasant Hill, Calif.,
is gathering data to show that the "healing environments"
favored by many family-centered hospitals are not luxuries-elements
like inspiring art, soft colors and lighting, waterfalls
and live plants help sick people get better faster.
In hospitals with healing environments, soft colors
and textures, natural and subdued light, carpets and
cell phones or beepers have replaced institutional lighting,
Formica and noisy overhead paging. Patients have private
rooms with ample space for both the clinical team and
families and friends. Some rooms resemble mini-suites,
with refrigerators, couches, tables and reading lamps.
At the new Little Company of Mary Hospital in Torrance,
Calif., set to open this month, patients will feel they
are in a healing place the minute they walk in the door,
said Kathy Harren, MHA, RN, the hospital's senior vice
president for patient care services. Waterfalls in front
of the lobby, a self-playing grand piano and a reflective
garden planted with olive trees will give sick patients
and stressed family members a sense of peace, she said.
"You don't feel like you're walking into a hospital."
Creating a healing environment doesn't cost any more
than building an institutional one, said Houston architect
Kirk Hamilton, who is president of the American College
of Health Care Architects and serves on the board of
the Center for Health Design.
He became involved in designing healing environments
partly because some early unpleasant experiences made
him fear long hallways and the smell of disinfectant.
At first, he began sneaking gardens and other elements
into his hospital designs. Then, as the movement toward
healing environments grew, he began to specialize in
what he calls "evidence-based design," based
on research that shows what satisfies patients and seems
to help in their recovery.
For instance, instead of linoleum hallways, which look
cold and echo noise, he would choose a synthetic carpet
that resists microbes. The carpet costs the same or
less than linoleum and is as easy to clean, he said.
But it also absorbs noise so patients can sleep better,
and it looks more welcoming.
Before Methodist remodeled its cardiac care unit two
years ago, the ICU looked pretty much like any other,
Browder said. "It was drab."
In the step-down unit, as in any medical/surgical unit,
nurses spent a lot of time walking between the nursing
station, patient rooms and a supply room. Transferring
patients between the two units could take as long as
half a day, said Ann Hendrich, MSN, RN, senior vice
president for patient care services at the Methodist
campus of Clarian Health.
As a clinician, Hendrich had always been frustrated
by the amount of time she spent away from patients.
She has conducted time and motion studies, showing how
nurses spend many hours on documentation and seeking
information rather than in patient rooms. Eliminating
transfers and changing the design of the unit so nurses
didn't have to travel long corridors or walk back and
forth from a station would give them more time to spend
educating and working with patients and families, she
reasoned.
A good healing environment takes into account the needs
of the staff as well as patients and families, architects
and administrators said. With staff input, architects
are designing spacious, naturally lit staff lounges,
waist-high wall sockets and places to store supplies
and medications inside patient rooms.
At Childrens Hospital Los Angeles, a new facility will
feature mostly private rooms with clinical space at
the entrance and family space at the far end, said Mary
Dee Hacker, MBA, RN, vice president for patient care
services and chief nursing officer at the hospital.
The clinical area will include sinks, flat countertops
that are easy to clean, dressing changes, gloves-everything
clinicians need, she said. The far end of the room will
have a real bed for parents, shelves for storage and
soft, domestic lighting. Parents in focus groups specifically
requested a place to plug in computers and chairs big
enough to hold their children on their laps. Staff members
wanted enough space for a clinical team to surround
the bed, room for equipment at the foot of the bed and
bathrooms with entryways wide enough for wheelchairs,
Hacker said.
Because the staff was heavily involved in designing
Methodist's new ICU, what happened after the unit opened
came as a surprise to many. About 60 percent of the
nurses-mostly in critical care-quit. "Everything
that the nurses knew, changed," Hendrich said.
Some said they did not want so much family contact.
"It broke my heart," she said, "but that's
what they said."
Browder believes many who left wanted to be strictly
critical care nurses, instead of sometimes attending
to noncritical patients. She and other intensive care
nurses also were nervous at first because they were
working with nurses who were not trained in critical
care, she said. At times, Browder said, she wanted to
give up, but she had promised to give the new unit at
least a year.
The shock of changing to family-centered care, especially
in an area like critical care, where family visits are
often limited to 15 minutes, can be difficult even for
nurses who believe in the concept, consultants and administrators
said.
"What we've found is that it's not enough to just
go in and change the environment," said Sara Marberry,
director of communications at the Center for Health
Design. "Unless the culture of the place supports
that, it doesn't work."
Nursing leaders at hospitals who make a change to family-centered
care must realize that nurses will face huge changes,
said Beverley Johnson, RN, president and CEO of the
Institute for Family-Centered Care. Moving from a central
nursing station to a workstation outside the bedroom,
for example, may save a nurse some time, but it also
limits contact with co-workers.
"What we're finding is that nurses like the privacy,
they like the quiet and the families, but they really
miss the socialization," Johnson said. Hospitals
must address this need, she said, perhaps with a large,
pleasant employee lounge or other gathering place.
Clinicians often are afraid that families may get in
their way or ask questions they have no time to answer,
Hogan-Baur said. "It's almost easier to address
the physical part than it is to address the changes
for the staff."
Nurses must realize that they can politely tell families
they have to do something that requires all their concentration
and will be happy to answer questions later, or that
they can ask a belligerent relative to leave, Johnson
said. "You have to draw some limits."
As time went by, Browder learned to trust the medical
nurses-now called comprehensive care nurses-many of
whom were cross-training in critical care. In turn,
they taught her how to organize her time in caring for
three or four noncritical patients, instead of the one
or two critical patients she was used to. She also receives
support from patient-visitor representatives, social
workers, unit technicians, housekeepers, chaplains and
patient care coordinators.
Because most of the nurses work all the time on the
same unit, they have come to know and trust each other
in a way that never happened on the old unit, she said.
"We have an outstanding team. I can't applaud them
enough. I've never seen such a big group of nurses work
so well together." She also has found that families
seem much less nervous when they understand what is
going on. "We're teaching them constantly,"
she said.
Once, Browder overheard some family members trying
to explain to other relatives what a balloon pump did.
"They had no idea what they were talking about,"
she said. She stepped in, taped a balloon pump to a
cardboard cutout of a human figure and asked if they
wanted to see what that noisy machine was doing. "In
five minutes, they knew what it was and why it was needed,"
she said. "It was so comforting to them."
It's important for families to understand how nurses
are caring for their loved ones, Harren said, because
often they will be taking care of the patient at home
in a few days. Her hospital sends home 150 patients
a month with home care and 120 to post-acute facilities.
"Families have to be a part of understanding the
care pathways so they don't have to turn around and
ask 100 questions" when the patient gets home,
Browder said.
Although hospitals that have embraced family-centered
care and healing environments have a lot of anecdotal
evidence that the practice not only makes patients feel
good, but also helps them get better, research to support
those anecdotes is still ongoing. The Center for Health
Design has a number of hospitals collecting data for
its Pebble Project, which will show how much healing
environments affect outcomes.
So far, the biggest concrete measurement is patient
satisfaction. "Patient satisfaction is outstanding"
on the new unit, Hendrich said. "It's the largest
increase we've ever seen in such a short time for one
unit."
At Unity Hospital in Fridley, Minn., which also combined
its ICU and step-down units, patient satisfaction has
increased notably, said Kathy Wilde, MA, RN, vice president
for patient care services at Unity and Mercy Hospital
in Coon Rapids, Minn.
The Barbara Ann Karmanos Cancer Institute in Detroit
has always offered family-centered care, but recently
redesigned two "institutional" oncology units
to create a healing environment, said Dore Shepard,
MS, RN, nurse manager at Karmanos. The institute is
collecting data for the Pebble Project.
Since the new units opened, patient studies have shown
a significant decrease in the dosage of self-administered
pain medication, Shepard said. Although lengths of stay
have remained constant, variable costs of care per patient
for at least one procedure dropped by more than 25 percent,
Shepard said. Methodist, which is also participating
in the Pebble Project, reports a decrease in falls and
medication errors as a result of eliminating patient
transfers. Staff turnover, which seemed to rise so sharply
at first, is now less than it was on the old unit.
Based on the patient satisfaction and outcome data,
Hendrich is convinced that eventually health care consumers
will demand healing environments and family involvement
in almost all aspects of their care. Given the nursing
shortage and a growing baby boom population, "we're
going to have to involve families more and more in patient
care, and find more efficient and safe ways to care
for patients," she said.
Family-centered care already has become standard practice
in pediatric hospitals, Johnson said. She sees encouraging
signs that adult health care is going the same way.
Marberry estimates that many hospitals have embraced
the concept of healing environments. "It's a growing
movement," she said, "but it's certainly not
mainstream yet."
Browder's satisfaction with the new unit has increased
beyond her expectations. She gets to know families well,
talks to patients who can talk back and watches people
go home who came in very sick-rewards she almost never
knew on the old intensive care unit.
She recalled one man who came in after a massive heart
attack. No one thought he would make it. She got to
know his wife, who stayed by his side almost the entire
time. Browder remembered the joy she felt as the patient
slowly recovered, how moved she was the day he left,
when his wife hugged her and he thanked her, tears of
gratitude in his eyes.
"I love the kind of care we give here," Browder
said. "It's a different kind of nursing. If anything
happened to one of my family members, this is where
I'd want them to be."
Contact Cathryn Domrose at kaguilar@well.com
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