Come on, Come on, Come on, Come On, Touch me Babe
Thirty-six hours after my hip replacement and my blocks wore off I ended up in the ER by way of ambulance for uncontrolled pain. Shortly before that I was lying in my bed with ice on my hip my husband standing over me. I was trying to get out of bed to get to the bathroom but every time I tried to move I got nauseas and dizzy and the pain was excruciating. I actually have a high pain threshold but as with the past surgeries, the opioids were doing nothing for me. I must have some weird genetic trait that keeps me from metabolizing opioids and narcotics because they rarely work on me. The first time this was brought to my attention was when I was admitted to the ER for an extremely painful muscle spasm along the entire left side of my body after a 12 mile paddle. They started by giving me demerol, then morphine, dilaudid and finally toradol which worked! Hallelujah! That’s when I realized I might be in trouble in future pain situations. The next time this happened to me was about 36 hours after my shoulder surgery when the blocks wore off. As directed I had been taking my opioids well before the blocks wore off but it didn’t help. I ended up in the ER with uncontrolled pain which they could only get back under control by giving me another block. So, this time wasn’t really a surprise to me, I was just hoping it would turn out differently. I had discussed my intolerance to opioids with my physician beforehand but I felt like he didn’t take me seriously. He told me I should do lots of ice which I have always done, start the opioids before the blocks wear off which I have always done, and really he said, hip surgery pain isn’t as bad as shoulder pain anyway. I said to him “You are going to cut me open, cut off the end of my bone, stick a rod down the center of the bone, sand down a portion of another bone and you are telling me that the pain will not be so bad?” “Yeah,” he said “amazing isn’t it?” “F*cking unbelievable” is what I was thinking.
So once again I am back in the ER with uncontrolled pain. Due to Covid they will not let my son nor my husband in with me. I am pretty hysterical at this point. I’m thinking if they just chop my leg off I will be 100% better. The nurse asks me the little number question that we have all been asked. “If 10 is the worst pain you can imagine and 1 is no pain at all, what number is your pain?” I want to say 15 but I’m a nurse and want to be helpful. So I say 9 because of course you can always imagine worse pain which would then be the 10. But it is obvious I am in a great deal of distress and if the crying and sobbing isn’t convincing enough, the high blood pressure, racing heart rate and low oxygen saturation should be an indication that my pain is at least a 9. But this nurse is not over at my bedside. She is not even looking at me. She is at the computer on the other side of the room filling in her little boxes because that’s what she needs to do so when I say I am a 9 her response is to click the little 9 on her computer. She does not look at me, she does not show any sympathy or compassion, she is too busy filling in her little boxes on the computer. When I say 9 she does not come over to the bed and try to reposition me to get me more comfortable. She doesn’t put a cool cloth on my head or conversely give me a warm blanket. She doesn’t rub my back or hold my hand. She doesn’t reassure me that the physician will be in shortly and they will figure out what they can give me to help with the pain. She does ask me why I don’t have a pillow behind my head and when I tell her the paramedics took that pillow and put it under my leg she says “Oh” and then turns back to her computer. She does not get me another pillow for under my head. Throughout my 4 hour stay at that ER not one person touched me. I had at least three different nurses come into my room and then walk back out the door in a hurry to get away from my discomfort. I was on my call button the whole time which was my only way to communicate to someone somewhere to show me some compassion, to help me reposition, to get me more pillows, to reassure me but I got nothing. If my son and husband had been allowed in they would have done that for me but they were not. If I had had the energy and wasn’t in so much pain I probably would have made my requests more specific but I could barely talk much less make sense. I suspect that by the time I left they were glad to see “that woman in Room 9” finally leave.
Human touch and compassion, that’s what I was looking for. That little bit of physical affection that brings a bit of comfort, support and kindness. It doesn’t take much for someone to give it but makes a huge difference to the one who receives it. When you touch someone with intention you are saying “I’m here. I see that you are upset. You’re not alone. I will help you through this.”
I had a friend once who had to have an MRI. She had never had an MRI before so did not know what to expect. When she went in and they slid her into the tunnel and started the test she freaked out. She couldn’t do it. They had to stop the test. But she needed it done and she was determined to try again. I told her I would go with her and when we got to the testing sight I asked if I could be in the room with her for the test. They agreed. I sat at her feet and held onto her ankle. Sometimes I stroked her leg but mostly I just stayed connected. And she did great. Human touch - “I’m here. I see that you are upset. You’re not alone. I will help you through this.”
One of my dementia patients, Sandra, was always very agitated. It was very difficult for her to lie still and yet she was always tired and wanting to sleep. The Occupational Therapist and I would get her all settled in her bed and she would close her eyes and look comfortable and we would leave and not three minutes later she would be up and out of her bed and back in the hall pacing. So, one day after we got her all comfortable I sat with her. I gave her a hug and told her I loved her. Then I stroked her head and held her hand and sang her a song. I reassured her that she was going to have a nice long nap and that I would check on her every 15 minutes. Over the next two hours I did check on her every 15 minutes. I went in, I stroked her head and told her I would be back soon. For two long hours she was able to sleep. When she finally woke she was well rested and less agitated. Human touch - “I’m here. I see that you are upset. You’re not alone. I will help you through this.”
A few years ago I was at my dentist’s office and needed some major work done. I had tears rolling down my cheek and for a brief second the dental hygienist put her hand on my shoulder. It made all the difference in the world. I felt comforted. But then she took it away and I said “Your hand on my shoulder really helped” and she put it back and I got through the procedure. I hope she remembers that. I hope she remembers how that small touch said “I’m here. I see that you are upset. You’re not alone. I will help you through this.”
Human touch, compassion, empathy - magical