Fat people get a bad rap in this country. Especially really fat people. I’ve had quite a few morbidly obese patients over the years and have felt mixed things. Sometimes it was disgust, other times pity. I had a patient once, who we’ll call “Doug” that really got to me (but in a good way). Doug was a diabetic, came in with Hyperosmolar Hyperglycemic Nonketotic Syndrome (HHNS), resulting in a blood sugar over 1200. He was a big guy, 500 plus pounds. And I’ll never forget, he had these bleeding ulcers on his bottom. I say that because every time he had to get up and drop a deuce, I was the lucky fella who had to clean him. My first day with Doug was incredibly difficult. I admitted him to the ICU where I was working. Doug had diarrhea and had to get up to the bedside commode frequently. Fortunately, he was pretty mobile despite his size. I won’t lie, if I had to turn him, I would’ve needed a lot of help. But fortunately, I didn’t.
Anyhoo, I had mountains of admission paperwork, had to do hourly blood sugars and get Doug on and off the bedside commode. During my first day with him, I got him up six times. Cleaning him was rough, as the smell was awful – both of his backside and the blood. I remember looking in the commode one time as I wiped his derriere and there was a small mountain of mucoid shit tinged with blood. It was awful. But through it all, Doug was incredibly pleasant and appreciative. I think that was the one thing that kept me from losing my shit (no pun intended) as I had absolutely no help from my coworkers that day. I wasn’t drowning per se, but I was barely keeping my head above water. Any nurse who’s been there knows how that feels – it’s awful.
But Doug kept me going. As the day went on, I began to shift my thoughts from my own frustrations to the person who really deserved to be frustrated – Doug.
But he wasn’t. He was cheerful as he could be. Mind you, this was a guy with HHNS who also possibly had the flu. So even though I had to gown up and wear a mask each time I went in to do anything for Doug, it really wasn’t that big a deal. As my wife has said many a time, at the end of the day, we get to go home. The patient has to stay there.
I went home that night beaten and tired but I left Doug in much better shape than when he had arrived. If I weren’t so damn exhausted, I would’ve felt a bit of relief.
The next day, I went to work knowing that I could only move at one speed – with one foot in front of the other. That’s all I had left after my initial outing with Doug. I prayed for a good day, and fortunately it was. It was so much better than the one before it. And Doug was just as I left him, moving in the right direction, feeling better.
As I spent time with him that day, I came to realize Doug and I were much the same. We both liked anime and Star Wars. He loved Doctor Who. But somewhere along the line, Doug let food get the best of him. I can’t fault him for that. I love food. But something happened for Doug. To the point where he let it get out of control and ruin his life. I imagine the whole thing’s a vicious circle. You get bigger, you can do less, and you get more depressed. So you you unplug and numb the pain with food and entertainment. That’s something I’m certainly guilty of (particularly the latter).
But the thing with life is, it goes on, with or without you. You can engage in it, participate in it. Or let it slip through your fingers like grains of sand.
I felt for Doug. Because on some level, I understood him. I connected with him. I didn’t know what his pain was. But it was something big. And deep.
I felt so sorry for him. For the first time in a long time, I really connected with an obese patient instead of bringing my own preconceptions to the table. I always take what I do with a level of seriousness. These are people we care for. They’re someone’s mother, son, brother or sister. But as time goes on, you get numb to a degree. You do that from seeing the same thing over and over. I also imagine it’s a combination of burnout and as a means to protect yourself. The key to nursing is feeling for others, but not letting those feelings debilitate you. It’s a very fine line that we all have to walk.
Anyhoo, Doug was special to me. He made me look at patients like him in a new light. Hell, he made me look at the world in a new way by putting things in perspective.
Doug enjoyed the small things. It didn’t take much to make him happy. So even though my first day with him was frustrating, I was being the bitch. Doug was the hero. The whole experience also reminded me to check my prejudices at the door. So many times, we come in with preconceived notions as to what’s going on with a person, simply based on their behavior or appearance. As the old saying goes, “Never judge a book by its cover.” I like to think I’m an easy-going and open-minded guy. But as my time with Doug taught me, that’s not necessarily the case. There’s always room for growth and betterment. This was one of those instances.
And I have to thank Doug for that. He had his issues, but he was a kind, pleasant human being who reminded me the importance of empathy and sympathy.
I never saw Doug after that. But my time with him had a lasting effect. Wherever he is, I hope Doug’s doing better. I also hope he finds that peace we all need and deserve.
The post Never Judge A Book By Its Cover appeared first on sai tyrus.