Deonna M Gonzalez
September 2023
Deonna M
Gonzalez
,
BSN, RN
CV Interventional Radiology
Tampa General Hospital
Tampa
,
FL
United States
Mixed in with small talk, she explained what would happen and how she would take good care of me. “A nice Heavy Tequila cocktail will help with those nerves,” she said. She held my hand when my anxiety finally got the best of me, and as my granddaughter says, my cry started to come.
Let me start by saying that I have been a Registered Nurse for a long time. I have worked 12-hour nights in High-Risk OB for almost 30 years and now I work in Home Health, so I have seen one end of the spectrum to the other.
There are many types of nurses. There are those, as a wise nurse reminded me, who are usually forgotten. The nurse who gives her patient a great, safe, experience but thanks to anesthesia like “twilight” or “conscious sedation,” we don’t remember.
These are the nurses who take care of us while we sleep. They send us off to dream, all the while watching over us. They are usually the last face we see before we close our eyes and the first face as we wake up. We don’t remember that they told us silly stories to make us laugh when we were so nervous and wanted to cry or the hand that held us as we drifted off to sleep. But today, I remember. I remember Michelle Gonzalez.
Michelle was there, she never left my side even after her job was done. Yes, she could have given report and handed me off to someone else, but she stayed until she knew that I was safe. Michelle continued to reassure and update my husband, who stood shell-shocked in the corner while there were so many people around my bed, thinking, “What is happening?” You see, I went in for a simple procedure and it turned into anything but. To start, we were up at 0430 for the long drive to Tampa and Hurricane Idalia was also arriving the same day.
Don’t get me wrong, from the moment we arrived at Valet parking, everyone was nice. The security guard who made sure that we knew where to go, admissions, check-in, and my pre-op nurse. But by the time Michelle came to get me, my brave façade was cracking. Sure, we chatted and laughed all the way down the hall to the OR. Mixed in with small talk, she explained what would happen and how she would take good care of me. “A nice Heavy Tequila cocktail will help with those nerves,” she said. She held my hand when my anxiety finally got the best of me, and as my granddaughter says, my cry started to come.
There were others in the room at the time, and I am sorry that I don’t remember their names. They too were kind, and quiet, as Michelle said, she was the chatty one. Did she tell me funny stories about herself and her sister? Yep! But when it was time, she put her game face on and took wonderful care of me.
There is no question that what we do is stressful. Our jobs usually cause us to be away from our families for many hours, even when they are sick. We miss holidays and birthdays. Sometimes that makes us sad, bitter, or angry, but at that moment in time, she reminded me of why we do what we do. Sometimes it is as simple as a funny story or a hand to hold. It is taking charge and reassuring us that we will be okay even when nothing is in our control. Sometimes, it is knowing that someone special is watching over us while we sleep, and sometimes, just sometimes, it is those who give us the “tequila cocktail” who are long forgotten that we remember the most.
There are many types of nurses. There are those, as a wise nurse reminded me, who are usually forgotten. The nurse who gives her patient a great, safe, experience but thanks to anesthesia like “twilight” or “conscious sedation,” we don’t remember.
These are the nurses who take care of us while we sleep. They send us off to dream, all the while watching over us. They are usually the last face we see before we close our eyes and the first face as we wake up. We don’t remember that they told us silly stories to make us laugh when we were so nervous and wanted to cry or the hand that held us as we drifted off to sleep. But today, I remember. I remember Michelle Gonzalez.
Michelle was there, she never left my side even after her job was done. Yes, she could have given report and handed me off to someone else, but she stayed until she knew that I was safe. Michelle continued to reassure and update my husband, who stood shell-shocked in the corner while there were so many people around my bed, thinking, “What is happening?” You see, I went in for a simple procedure and it turned into anything but. To start, we were up at 0430 for the long drive to Tampa and Hurricane Idalia was also arriving the same day.
Don’t get me wrong, from the moment we arrived at Valet parking, everyone was nice. The security guard who made sure that we knew where to go, admissions, check-in, and my pre-op nurse. But by the time Michelle came to get me, my brave façade was cracking. Sure, we chatted and laughed all the way down the hall to the OR. Mixed in with small talk, she explained what would happen and how she would take good care of me. “A nice Heavy Tequila cocktail will help with those nerves,” she said. She held my hand when my anxiety finally got the best of me, and as my granddaughter says, my cry started to come.
There were others in the room at the time, and I am sorry that I don’t remember their names. They too were kind, and quiet, as Michelle said, she was the chatty one. Did she tell me funny stories about herself and her sister? Yep! But when it was time, she put her game face on and took wonderful care of me.
There is no question that what we do is stressful. Our jobs usually cause us to be away from our families for many hours, even when they are sick. We miss holidays and birthdays. Sometimes that makes us sad, bitter, or angry, but at that moment in time, she reminded me of why we do what we do. Sometimes it is as simple as a funny story or a hand to hold. It is taking charge and reassuring us that we will be okay even when nothing is in our control. Sometimes, it is knowing that someone special is watching over us while we sleep, and sometimes, just sometimes, it is those who give us the “tequila cocktail” who are long forgotten that we remember the most.