Sometimes, I have a hard time believing in myself. Sometimes, other people do a better job of that. It’s a noticeable trend.
During my capstone, my preceptor challenged me to take on four patients. I wasn’t sure I was absolutely ready, but then again, I don’t know if you’re ever fully ready for anything in the nursing world. I panicked a little bit but finally agreed — and silently prayed that nothing catastrophic would happen. Nothing ever did. I did my assessments, administered their medications under supervision, and intervened when necessary.
In my current rotation as a nurse resident in the cath lab, I was given the opportunity to “scrub in” (i.e. degerm my hands and arms and put on a sterile gown and gloves) and help one of the vascular surgeons.
“You can help Dr. So-and-So today,” my preceptor cheerfully announced.
“Oh…really?!” I stuttered, trying (probably unsuccessfully) to mask my terror with excitement.
Oh, no…no, wait, what?! Surely a top-notch surgeon wouldn’t want an incompetent new graduate nurse helping him.
But he did. My preceptor reassured me that she would be standing by if (or rather, when) I needed help. The surgeon reassured me that he would be patient and that I could speak up if I felt overwhelmed. I attempted to reassure myself that as long as I kept the patient safe (and alive), everything would be okay.
With only two weeks of training under my belt and a ten minute crash course on how to use the indeflator and how to properly handle wires, I dived right in.
I was inflating and deflating angioplasty balloons, emptying and refilling syringes of heparinized saline, cleaning and coiling wires, and slowly learning how to differentiate between the countless pieces of equipment (sheaths, dilators, and catheters, oh my!). I also started to get really warm under my 14 pounds of lead, gown, hair cap, mask, and gloves.
Things got a little more complicated than the surgeon had anticipated; the patient needed more interventions than what was planned. I accidentally lost one of the wires and struggled to keep on top of wires that needed coiling and syringes that needed filling. But we eventually finished. The patient was stable. And more importantly, I was able to remove my lead and reinstate air circulation around my body.
Just kidding. No but really, I survived to live another day — and I even got to scrub in for the next case. And for three more cases after that...even though I still needed my preceptor’s gentle nudging each time. With every case, I became a little more confident in my skills. Finally, I could simultaneously clean wires while coiling them back into their holders, use the indeflator without being completely confused, and even look up at the screen for more than two seconds to admire the images of blood flow being restored to lower extremities.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m not a pro or anything yet. I dropped a wire the other day (and I’d rather not know how expensive it was). But I know that time and practice will help with that, and I plan to take full advantage of every opportunity to hone my skills. A more notable realization was that I had a functioning brain and a heart to accompany it and that I had courage stored somewhere inside of me. It just needed a little coaxing to come out.
So, to myself and to others who are perfectionists and who too often underestimate themselves: don’t let your fears of imperfection hold you back. Have a little more faith in yourself. Skills are vital, no doubt, but I think overcoming this kind of obstacle — at least initially — is 90% mental. Believe in the words of Aibileen Clark: “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.”
And then, just go for it.
Philippians 4:13
