During our Nursing training there were 4 main practical assessments we had to pass. One of which was the sterile dressing assessment. Now I thought I was reasonably good at this and seemed to get to grips fairly quickly with the whole routine. 20+ years ago his comprised of washing and drying the dressing trolley, when one was available that is, selecting all the necessary accoutrement's and performing a competent and safe dressing change using the 'forceps' technique, not glove technique as in today. Those plastic forceps could be little buggers. Especially if required to assist with removal of stitches. The suture thread used would often slip through the so- called toothed forceps and refuse to be held. Patient preparation was just as much as important in the assessment as the actual procedure; the 1980's had begun to accept that the patient played an important role now as an individual.
In my practice run I had carried out the mock assessment with a Staff Nurse I really got on with and admired. I hadn't gone brilliantly to be honest. Nerves kicked in. The dressing pack was duly opened and tipped onto a beautifully clean trolley top only to skid right off it and onto the floor. SN said, that's why you should have a spare one underneath the trolley, just in case. Ah! note to self. Hands freshly washed I returned somewhat abashed to the trolley and started again. All went well this time, I'd have passed hands down. Little did I know what would happen on the day of the real assessment. . .
My patient was to be a lovely lady who needed removal of abdominal sutures following a hysterectomy. I knew the lady well, she was happy for me to do the procedure, knew it was an assessment and away we went. All was wonderful, until I took out the first couple of sutures and she started to cry. This was my chance to put my true bed-side manner into practice, but it also meant having to stop, hold her hand, comfort and wash hands all over again. Having assessed that she was not it pain, uncomfortable from my attempts to remove sutures; it became clear she was having her 'gynea-blues wobble'; the 'technical' term for a hormone induced post operative upset. She kept crying, her belly wobbled up and down and I could not complete the assessment. The poor lady was devastated, thinking I would not pass and it would be all her fault. All I wanted to do was give her a big hug and ditch the whole process.
I did pass that assessment. Despite everything, the assessor saw enough to pass me on safety and dexterity, plus added observed human element
My patient was to be a lovely lady who needed removal of abdominal sutures following a hysterectomy. I knew the lady well, she was happy for me to do the procedure, knew it was an assessment and away we went. All was wonderful, until I took out the first couple of sutures and she started to cry. This was my chance to put my true bed-side manner into practice, but it also meant having to stop, hold her hand, comfort and wash hands all over again. Having assessed that she was not it pain, uncomfortable from my attempts to remove sutures; it became clear she was having her 'gynea-blues wobble'; the 'technical' term for a hormone induced post operative upset. She kept crying, her belly wobbled up and down and I could not complete the assessment. The poor lady was devastated, thinking I would not pass and it would be all her fault. All I wanted to do was give her a big hug and ditch the whole process.
I did pass that assessment. Despite everything, the assessor saw enough to pass me on safety and dexterity, plus added observed human element
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