As a renal nurse who qualified in 1992, I know times have changed. 35 years ago, we learnt to do everything through a case of ‘see one, do one’.
Nurses now need certificates for everything for safety (Ball et al, 2019). This is where inadequate care should be eliminated. But it’s never been highlighted to me more than since getting ill – even nearly costing my life on several occasions.
I got very sick and ended up retiring on ill health. I had every procedure known to man. However, this meant my intravenous (IV) access became poorer and poorer.
I went into hospital, and no one could use my Hickman line. There was a desperate scrabble to get someone in the intensive care unit to administer fluids. I moved to the wards, and it got worse still.
Not one nurse could administer anything I needed.It horrifies me that, at a time of crisis, I could be left in pain and nauseous for hours on end, with no IV fluids.
You might think I’m exaggerating, and I truly wish I was, but I ended up having intraosseous infusions while awake because they couldn’t use my line. This was horrific to say the least.
On the wards, I can truly say my experiences have been dire. Nurses used my Hickman line with no sterile trolley or sterile gloves, and I even got septicaemia from such action when I caught Covid-19 pneumonia while having an operation.
But I can’t just include care on the wards as, in the A&E I attended, I also got greeted with a look of horror from nurses required to put a cannulain me.
“Not one nurse could administer anything I needed; it horrifies me that I could be left in pain and nauseous for hours on end”
I got moved to another university hospital for spinal surgery and had my Hickman line exchanged. I was elated they had achieved it – and terrified. I counted the days until the stitches would be removed.
I begged and begged, but was told not one nurse on the unit could take the stitches out of my new line. Days past, and my skin looked like bubble wrap – overgrowing and forming haematomas.
I have severe clotting problems, so my line should have been flushed weekly with heparin. Three months I was there, and the only nurse able to flush it was a bank nurse – once. So I lost my IV access – my last lifeline. I couldn’t believe a specialised unit struggled so hard.
I don’t blame the nurses working in the units; I blame the system. We have IV lines because we are really ill, not as an adornment. When we are in crisis, we need to use these lines, and we need nurses who are accredited to use them.
This issue needs addressing, as there are many other seriously ill patients like me. I no longer feel safe going into hospital, the place I should feel safest and where people can help me.
The days when I trained under the first Project 2000 scheme (Ball et al, 2019) seem archaic now, like traditional nursing.
But boy, those patients in my care never heard the words come out of my mouth: ‘I can’t use your IV access – I haven’t got a certificate’. I know everything is certified now for safety, but how is this making it safe for patients?
There definitely needs to be more training; don’t rely on overstretched outpatient parenteral antimicrobial therapy teams.
As a leader I could solve it: when doing the rota, simply ensure that the skill-mix on each shift includes capable, IV-trained nurses. That isn’t a huge ask, even in these short-staffed times (Ball et al, 2019).
Please look at where you work: are there failings there? Nurse advocates should want the best for patients in their care. It’s more than stressful for patients, and I have been on the other side of the fence.
This is not a criticism of any particular area, but all areas I’ve encountered in my ill-health journey. You never switch off from being a nurse, even when ill, and it scares me what I have seen and experienced. Truly this issue needs addressing, and I’m hoping me highlighting it makes a positive change.
Unfortunately, this may be too late for me. However, it may save someone else’s life and mean they avoid the horrors that I’ve had to endure, so I’m still fighting positively.
Louise Sowter is retired renal nurse
