Disclaimer: The following is based on true life experience.
Though it would seem like a rant, it isn't. It is just a capture of how workplace
stress can influence people and how people responding to it might in turn affect
the workplace. I am too young to be writing this. Constructive criticism is
always welcome.
**
A lady, of dark complexion and in her late forties, was afoot with arms folded on
her protruding abdomen. She wore a white gown and a plastic white cap to her crown. While
she spoke, her voice was loud and discordant and the cacophony she created
seemed to fit her figure. It was my first day and as I entered ward G, her
shrill piercing voice perturbed the peaceful room filled with pregnant women. My
first impression on seeing her was to try my best to avoid any kind of
conversation with her. But as I entered the ward, the screams stopped
momentarily and then it started again. This time it was at me that she was screaming,
only a bit louder.
“Who are you, doctor?” she almost yelled.
“Intern. OG – 2, Sister” I replied and managed to pull a
smile.
There was discernibly no pause after I’d finished my humble
introduction. She went on to tell me what the junior residents of OG – 2 had left
incomplete, urging me to finish them or remind them about it. She didn't notice
my gesture of reassurance. Her attention shifted to the orderlies who were on
their morning routine of cleaning the wards. Relieved (temporarily), I slipped
into the ward and found jobs already waiting for me.
I was in that particular ward for around 8 weeks. I tried my
best not to be mindful of the people around me but went on with my business.
But I couldn't help but notice the conspicuous difference when she was not on
her shift. I learned that the other interns working in the ward were also pissed
off with her. They even had their own version of abusive names for her. No
wonder she was the most disliked person in the entire floor. I did not bother
to carry any hatred or grudge against her, until one fine evening.
I was finishing my shift and was about to leave home. I was
tired. I had to do an ECG for a patient. There was no ECG machine in ward so
I rolled the ECG machine from the nearby ward, just some 20 meters away. As
I was finished with the ECG, the ward attendant, a lady clad in pink, offered to
roll the ECG machine back to ward. I had not demanded her but probably out
of some compassion to a tiring soul or perhaps remembering my previous gestures
of good will to her, she offered me help. Though I politely refused, she was
already rolling the ECG machine back. Only to be stopped by the stout, arrogant creature sitting on a cracking old chair. “You don’t have to do
what this intern orders. You are here to do this ward work and you’ll do what I
say”, she yelled. I could say she was flushing with rage, but her coal dark countenance
was too incompetent to reveal any signs of it. The ward attendant was trying her best to
explain. But I wasted no time. I rolled the ECG machine to the adjoining ward
on my own and I left home. I was too pissed off. I did not talk back because I
knew that behind her big mouth there were no brains backing her up. Any
argument would be pointless. I was cursing her on my way back. But soon it
slipped off my mind and I was back to my peaceful routine.
I would not say all nursing sisters were of this kind. No. While
I was in the nearby OR (operating room), after the surgeries of the day were
over, I came out and sat in distress in the nursing station. I was having an
attack of migraine. The nurse there took out a kettle and some milk she had
brought for herself. She prepared a strong cup of coffee and offered me. More
than the caffeine, her care and compassion had a considerable soothing effect
on my nerves.
I often wondered what made the arrogant sister of ward G so
arrogant. Was it because of the increasing work place stress? Of-course, ward G was one
of the busiest and hectic wards in the whole of the hospital. But there were other wards
more hectic than this and not all nurses breed such air of arrogance. Maybe she
was more susceptible to such stress? Maybe she had other problems which
contributed to this? Whatever, she required professional help. And there’s nothing
in that to be ashamed of. I sincerely feel that in such places where the work
load tends to be more and work flow become hectic, the institution should provide some sort of help/assessment for their staff to keep increasing stress levels at bay.
Workplace stress can bring out varied untoward behaviour of people and this
only tends to affect the workplace even more adversely for the others. Though the title of
this post resonates the residual amount of anger I have on her, I do feel bad
at the same time. Trying to act a little more maturely, I keep thinking of
changes that can be brought to the system processes at work that will help make the
workplace more conducive to the health care force as well as for the patients.
**
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