As a doctor myself, writes Dr. Anna Reisman, I was embarrassed that I didn’t know how to help a patient with a bedpan. (Michaelwalk/Wikimedia Commons)
I was visiting my friend in the hospital and she had to pee. Walking to the bathroom was not an option: She’d been told not to get out of bed, she felt weak and lightheaded, and she was attached to an IV and a monitor.
She pressed the call button and stated her problem. A voice: They’d let her nurse know. A few minutes later, I stuck my head outside the curtain and scanned the empty hallway, feeling guilty that all I could do was share her frustration.
Then someone pulled open the curtain and smiled in at us. “I need the bedpan, we’ve already called twice,” my friend said. The woman in scrubs, who turned out to be one of the doctors, said she’d take care of it. My friend and I sighed with relief.
But the doctor slipped back out. Taking care of it meant finding someone who knew how to do it. When she returned a couple of minutes later and saw that still nobody had showed up, the good doctor offered to do it herself. She fetched a bedpan and awkwardly slid the pink plastic container under my friend, the whole time apologizing that she didn’t know which end was up.
The current U.S. nursing shortage includes licensed practical nurses and certified nursing assistants, the people who usually manage bedpans. And so hospitalized patients feeling the urge to urinate may have to wait longer than is possible.
If you’re thinking this is a minor issue, think again: Holding one’s urine can set a patient up for a urinary tract infection; the physical discomfort can be a stress on an already sick body, driving up blood pressure and pulse; and waiting with a bursting bladder is a mental stress, too.
As a doctor myself, I was embarrassed that I didn’t know how to help. I didn’t learn bedpan basics in medical school.
The alternative isn’t any better: Consider the shame and discomfort of lying in cold, wet sheets until someone can change them, plus the serious health risks that include skin breakdown and infection. For patients who already have pressure sores, these complications can be life-threatening.
As a doctor myself, I was embarrassed that I didn’t know how to help. I didn’t learn bedpan basics in medical school, or at any other time during my training. I would guess that most doctors, like me, would rather volunteer to hunt for someone else to do this than just getting the job done.
No, it isn’t rocket science to place a bedpan, but it’s easy to bumble by making a mess, leaving the patient in an uncomfortable position, exposing and embarrassing, and so on. Continue reading