Today, I treated a laceration above your eye, the result of a punch delivered with a closed fist. As I stitched the deep gash, I reassured you that the scar would gradually blend into the line of your eyebrow. I assisted you in applying foundation on your neck to mask the bruising from a past strangulation episode. I kept a close watch for any signs of swelling in your airway and handed you a note with the contact details of local shelters and hotlines for battered women, discreetly tucked into your shoe.
Repeatedly, I offered to call the police on your behalf, fearing that the next time you might not make it home safely. Today, I addressed your visible injuries, but tomorrow, when deeper wounds emerge, we risk failing you.
You arrived alone after fainting while working part-time at the cinema. As a college student with family far away, I delivered news that weighed heavily: your bloodwork hinted at possible cancer. I’m unsure if the gravity of my words truly reached you when I explained the need for a hospital stay for a blood transfusion and a bone marrow transplant. You requested a note to excuse you from tomorrow’s physics final. That may be the only note I can provide for you. Today, I identified a critical diagnosis and initiated a life-saving treatment plan. But tomorrow, as you navigate remission while facing secondary heart complications from aggressive chemotherapy, we may fail you.
During our conversation about managing type 2 diabetes, it became clear you knew the information well. You presented to the emergency room with a blood sugar level exceeding 500, yet your insulin and supplies cost over $1,000 monthly. As a retired senior, you relied on a fixed income and had to “get creative.” You shared how you strive to stretch a week’s supply of insulin to last the entire month, sometimes administering less than your prescribed dosage. You asked, “Isn’t it better than nothing?” Today, I was able to get the social worker to secure you a voucher for a month’s worth of insulin supplies. But tomorrow, when rationing leads to dangerously high blood sugar levels and you become unresponsive, we may fail you.
I guided you to undress, placing your clothing into separate paper bags. I collected samples from various parts of your body, documenting signs of trauma. I provided medications to prevent pregnancy and the transmission of HIV and assured you that what happened wasn’t your fault. I allowed you to shower, hoping to help wash away some of your shame and vulnerability. Today, I offered comfort and clothed you in fresh garments. Tomorrow, I will stand by you as a witness for you and others affected by sexual assault. Yet, when you struggle with nighttime fears and traumatic flashbacks, we may fail you.
I also cared for your child, changing diapers and combing hair. I sang nursery rhymes while feeding them scrambled eggs and avocado, reading one of our favorite stories and expressing my love repeatedly. Today, I was your nurturing mother, and I pledge to fight for a future where no one faces such trials alone.
For more insights on related topics, check out this great resource on artificial insemination kits and explore further here for comprehensive support on pregnancy and home insemination. Also, learn more about how we handle sensitive topics in our privacy policy.
In summary, the role of a nurse practitioner extends beyond medical treatment; it is a commitment to advocate for patients facing various hardships. Each day presents challenges, and while we strive to provide care and support, we recognize that systemic issues may hinder our efforts. Our battle against policies like the AHCA is essential to ensure that everyone receives the care they deserve.