Just 2 weeks into my new PACU/Recovery nurse role, I encountered a very childish, demanding, 60-year-old patient who just had a laparoscopic appendectomy. I have already given him a total of 100 micrograms of fentanyl yet he still complains of pain every now and then. His discomfort wasn't necessarily on the procedure site but just about everywhere in his body. Like when he wants his pillow to be adjusted, he goes ranting about his sore and painful neck. Or when we asked him to turn to his side because I want to check his back for any possible accidents and or skin damage, he complains about how heavy his body weight is for his right shoulder. At this point, I was already rolling my eyes and getting on quickly with the skin check so we can leave him in peace.
There was just one thing I need to accomplish, and that is to let him push himself up the bed so he doesn't look slumped. Since I was doing it alone, I adjusted the bed into a Trendelenburg position and asked the patient to bend his knees and pushed himself up the bed.
With a tiny bit of hesitation, he followed my instructions ever so slowly but would stop unless I tell him what to do. So, with the tiny bit of patience I have left, I coached him ever so gently: "Alright, Derek (not his real name), you are doing a good job, PUSH! PUSH! Just a tiny bit more PUSH!" He was inches away from the ideal spot I want his head to be when he stopped and told me: "Oh is this how you tell your boyfriend what to do?" And everyone around our tiny space in the recovery room burst out laughing, myself included.
It took a lot of self-control for me not to answer him back. But in my head, this is what I said, "That's way too slow for my liking hun 🤣"
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