Michael Alexander - Confessions of a Male Nurse

The stories described in this book follow my progression from an inexperienced nurse to a relatively effective professional. To protect confidentiality, some parts are fictionalised, and all places and names are changed, but nonetheless they remain an honest reflection of my experience working as a male nurse over the past 16 years surprising as that might come to be!

I am just your everyday, run-of-the-mill nurse, with a unique story to tell. Okay, unique is not quite accurate; anyone that spends time working in healthcare has their own uniquely similar stories. Every day we come into contact with people from all walks of life, from the destitute to the wealthy, the young to the elderly, simple to genius, cruel to caring.

Though I never planned on being a nurse, caring for others was in my blood: my great-grandfather was a medic through two world wars, and my mother was also a nurse. Medicine provided them with a living, and so at the wholesome age of 17 I figured it would be good enough for me; nursing meant a guaranteed job. Little did I know that nursing would prove to be so much more than just a way to make a living.

Now, 16 years on, Im still working in healthcare. I wouldnt be if I didnt like caring for others, but Im only now realising that nursing isnt just about what I can do for others; nursing is also good for me. Everyone likes that warm feeling they get when they help someone. Well, I really like it, and especially when Ive done that little bit extra.

Looking after others is all Ive ever known. Ive seen people in all states of health, both mentally and physically, and I have come to the conclusion that our bodies themselves are the greatest equalising factors in our inglorious existence. Now, I want to show you what its like, what it takes, and what really goes on in the front line of the caring profession.

Why do I want to do this? On the positive side, I want to tell you just how amazing your average nurse really is; I want to prove that a good nurse can literally be the difference between life and death. On a more negative note, this is my chance to make up for the times when I should have spoken out about some of the horrendous goings-on in many hospitals, but didnt; times when I kept quiet, because of fear, ignorance, or simply being at a loss about what to do.

There is one thing almost all of us are going to be at some point, and that is a patient. One day, most of us are going to need to depend on someone when we are at our weakest. That someone is most likely going to be a stranger and that stranger is most likely to be a nurse.

I have worked with patients suffering from dreadful diseases, some of which I had never even imagined, let alone dealt with, like Guillain-Barr syndrome or motor neurone disease, or horrific cancers that spread through the body. Now, after 16 years, Ive done pretty much everything from keeping someone comfortable while their body is failing and the pain is getting too much to cope with, to chasing a confused (and very naked) patient down a corridor. Ive learnt how to deal with a family who have been told their loved one is not going to make it (which never gets any easier, regardless of whether it is expected or not). Ive experienced my fair share of emotions: frustration, impotence, despair, at the unfair ways disease and misfortune can strike those most deserving of life; at other times, relief when someones suffering ends.

But no matter how much I sympathise, I dont really know what it is like to be a patient. I have only seen things from a nurses perspective, where you cant afford to get too emotional or involved. I often wonder what it must be like to be on the other side, to be lying in bed, to see things through a patients eyes.

The only way I have of imagining is to use my experience of the way people in the past have reacted to being in my care.

What I have noticed, is that a persons behaviour generally changes as soon as they become a patient. Some people become extremely nervous, which is understandable, and may explain why some pretty silly questions are asked. Does surgery mean I will have to have an operation? Then, there are the people who, during a ward round with their consultant, will nod as if in understanding, but when the doctor leaves they havent the faintest idea what is going on. Ive heard many a patient, when asked by their consultant, How do you feel? respond by saying that they feel fine, when in fact theyd spent the morning complaining about their ailments.

Some people suddenly find they are unable to do simple tasks for themselves, like pour their own water or fluff their own pillows, even if they are physically quite capable. Others become so used to being in hospital that they know how a ward runs better than some of the staff. Some become so demanding that no matter how many of their requests are satisfied, they will never be happy, while others are so grateful for any small service even just spending five minutes listening to them that they want to shake your hand or marry you off to one of their grandchildren. Ive seen people too afraid to disturb the nurse, as they dont want to be a burden, even though they are worried about the pain in their chest. Ive seen others treating nurses like servants. Then there are people who lose all initiative, because they arent sure what they are supposed to do; they dont know how to be a patient and theyre not sure what exactly a nurses role is.

When I picture myself sitting for hours in the waiting room, seeing patients who came after me being dealt with first, I wonder whether this would irritate me, or whether Id be calm and rational, like all nurses want their patients to be. Then when I finally get called through to see the doctor, I imagine expecting the doctor to have all the answers to my problems as, Doctor knows best.

It must be frightening for patients who are admitted to be put on a drip, to have blood taken every day, or tubes stuck in some surprising places. For some having to share a room with a bunch of sick strangers might seem difficult.

But thats why Im here, your average nurse. It isnt just about giving you your medicines and dressing your wounds. Im here to explain things, including the foreign language the doctors use. Im here to help you in and out of bed, to help you help yourself. Im here to help calm you in the night when you wake up wondering where you are, or worrying about that pain in your chest. Im here to help make your treatment as bearable as possible.

Did I always know what I was doing? Of course not, but I couldnt tell the patients that. A nurse must be confident and assertive, yet caring. The problem was I didnt feel confident, nor the least bit assertive; I did care, though.

I will never forget my first day at Allswell, a hospital situated in the middle of nowhere well, maybe more like everywhere. Allswell was a fairly typical example of all that is good, bad, outrageous and hilarious about hospitals across the civilised world. I remember vividly the reaction as I walked into the ward and explained I was the new nurse; mouths dropped open and there were mutterings of there must be some mistake and even this is a joke. The nurse in charge of the ward even made a phone call to the head of personnel to explain the problem. You see, I was not just straight out of college; I was the only male in a gynaecology ward. The most important people I met that first day were Sharon and Cherie. Sharon was the nurse in charge of running the ward, similar to a traditional Matron. Cherie was the nurse whose job it was to familiarise me with the ward. It was a huge responsibility for her, although I didnt realise it at the time. Over the next two months, Cheries task was to transform me from a nave new graduate to an effective, safe and efficient member of the team. I dont think either of us knew how difficult that was going to be.