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When times are tough because of the nursing shortage
or any other reason, Kathy Phelan, RN, draws on those
two or three experiences that stick with a nurse for
a career and say “I make a difference.”
For Phelan, trauma coordinator at Advocate Good Shepherd
Hospital in Barrington, Ill., there are the faces of
families and patients from her own emergency department
and the villages of Tanzania half a world away.
Phelan, 45, assesses every traumatically injured patient
admitted to the suburban Chicago hospital through the
emergency department, which logs 30,000 visits a year.
She has a wealth of other duties, too: developing communitywide
injury prevention programs, ensuring that RNs have the
education to maintain their state trauma nurse specialist
certifications, and contributing data to the Illinois
nursing registry to spot trends in emergency care.
Phelan said she would like to expand her community
education and teaching roles when she completes her
bachelor’s degree at the University of St. Francis
in Joliet, and eventually earn a master’s degree.
“In emergency nursing, there’s something
new every day. You never know what’s coming through
the door,” Phelan said. “You get to use
all of the skills you learned in nursing school.”
Two instances serve as Phelan’s reminder that
people notice and appreciate when a nurse goes beyond
the necessary, from care to compassionate care. In one
case from the emergency department, it took years to
acknowledge; in the other, while traveling in Africa,
the human connection was immediate and profound.
Phelan recalled a young girl who had been at a birthday
party and was in a rollover van accident. “It
took us a long time to get hold of the mother,”
she said, because the girl carried no ID. “So
I stayed with her.”
When the mother arrived to learn that her daughter
had died, there still was the challenge of reaching
the father and a brother who were on a fishing trip.
“I felt so terrible about this poor woman who
was all by herself,” Phelan said.
Years later, she said that she recognized the parents
again in the emergency room. “I was very hesitant
to say anything to them because I wasn’t sure
how they’d react,” she said. “But
I just said, ‘I remember when your daughter came
in.’ And they were so thankful that I remembered
their daughter. That really touched me.”
Phelan said she was equally touched by villagers in
northern Tanzania, who, by their need, turned a trip
led by her cultural anthropology professor into a quasi-medical
mission.
The tribespeople were so appreciative that Phelan would
take time to assess their conditions and treat them
with supplies brought for her own tourist group that
she plans to return in the summer of 2004 as a full-fledged
caregiver.
“I saw eye infections. I saw malnourished babies,”
Phelan said. “But I also saw some very healthy
people,” even though age 50 or 60 was ancient.
“They were willing to bring us into their homes
and to teach us their culture and how they live and
what was important. They were more giving and open and
loving and caring than I could have imagined.”
She said she looked at the cataract-covered eyes of
one man. “He had a half a dozen goats and he had
two wives and multiple children. It was very difficult
for me to know that I couldn’t help him,”
she said.
“But he did thank me graciously. He wanted to
know if I would be one of his wives. And he offered
me goat’s milk to thank me. They lived with nothing.
Nothing. And here he was offering me milk.”
Phelan said that next time she’ll be prepared
with medical supplies, such as antibiotic cream that
could have helped a baby who had fallen into a fire
and suffered burns. She’ll also take soap and
disinfectants.
“There will be a next time,” Phelan said.
“I went there to see the animals.
“But it’s the people that you go back for.”
Contact
Phil McPeck at getpjm@aol.com.
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