Hawai'i nurses get fewer but take pride in purpose
| Hawai'i to face shortage of nurses |
By Lee Cataluna, Advertiser Columnist
Photos by Bruce Asato
They've seen it all. And then some. And somehow, they manage to keep caring.
National Nurse Recognition Week ends today, and with that in mind I recently asked a group of nurses to share highlights of their careers. All work now at Kaiser Moanalua, though many have worked at other hospitals around the state and around the country.
Though each had different stories to share, they all agreed on one point: To be with another human being during birth, illness or death, and to be an agent of help, is a soulful experience.
In the words of Dorothy Hazlett, a psychiatric clinical nurse specialist at Kaiser, "It's a great privilege to be with people at every stage of their lives."
JUDIE SPAFFORD Pediatric Nurse Supervisor
Judie Spafford
In 1967, Judie Spafford's daughter was born prematurely. The baby weighed just 1 pound 4 ounces, and had multiple health problems.
"True care goes beyond the walls of the hospital."
Pediatric nurse supervisor
"Doctors said I should put her in an institution. They said she'd never see. They said she'd never speak."
Those doctors were wrong.
Spafford's daughter, Christine Wilson, overcame her disabilities. She did more than survive. She thrived. Christine graduated from Punahou, attended the University of Hawai'i and won a fellowship to Columbia University, where she got a degree in art history.
"She's the most stubborn, determined, focused person I've ever met," says Spafford. "She's my inspiration. She had a dream to live in Venice, Italy, so she did. Twice."
You get the sense that Spafford is just as determined and focused as her daughter. She was divorced with a very sick baby to care for when she started nursing school. The experience of having a sick child was what led Spafford to become a nurse.
"I saw things happen that I wouldn't have let happen if I were taking care of a child."
"He's smiling, but you can't tell unless you know him," Spafford says. The child, she explains, was born with a rare disorder that made him unable to breathe. "Under a microscope, his muscle tissue looked like bone."
Spafford was the boy's primary nurse for seven months. Brandon spent a total of six years, his entire lifetime, in hospitals. During that time, he had five different primary nurses. The night Brandon died, his mother called all of his nurses and four of them were able to be there at his side as he passed.
"Nursing is about building a relationship with the patient and with their family," Spafford says. "This boy's mother sent me Mother's Day cards every year. I would call her every night to make sure she could talk to him. True care goes beyond the walls of the hospital."
BERNIE DEGRACIA Charge Nurse
"The restaurant was totally packed and everyone was talking loud and waiting for their orders," she says. "All of a sudden, this man comes up to me and says, 'Aren't you a nurse at Kaiser? I remember you!' " The man was a return visitor from California. Years earlier, while on vacation in Hawai'i, he had fallen ill and been hospitalized. "He told me, 'You touched me. You really helped me. I almost died.' And suddenly, the whole restaurant got silent! Everyone was staring at me!"
Though in that moment, DeGracia was uncomfortable with the sudden attention, she took the compliment to heart. "Even years later, when they see you out in public, they identify you as their nurse. It's really touching."
The other nurses nod in agreement. And then, one is brave enough to confess: "But it's hard to remember their names sometimes!" The nurses burst into laughter. Is it because people look so different when they're healthy? "Yeah," comes the answer, "And they look different when they're dressed and vertical!"
CHERYL CHANDLER Cardio-Vascular Intensive Care Unit Supervisor
A few years ago, a 17-year-old girl was brought into the critical care unit where Chandler worked. The girl, who was a tourist from California, had been in a car accident on the North Shore. Her boyfriend was killed in the crash. The girl was very badly injured, in a coma, and her prognosis was very poor. In fact, Chandler says, she wasn't expected to live.
Rosie Elento, RN, prepares medication for a patient at Kaiser Moanalua hospital.
The girl's mother flew in from California and got the bad news. Chandler took it upon herself to talk to the mother. "I didn't want to give her hope that wasn't there, but I didn't want her to give up on a 17-year-old, either."
Chandler advised the mother to talk to the girl all the time, to talk to her as if she were awake, and to play her favorite music for her.
The mother sat with the girl for weeks. Slowly, the girl got better. Eventually, she came out of the coma. But it took weeks, and the mother was staying in a hotel all that time.
Chandler knew that was a financial burden for the family, so she invited the mother to stay with her. The mother accepted, and she lived in Chandler's house for a month while her daughter got better.
Liz Kiehm, RN, a nurse supervisor at Kaiser's Moanalua Medical Center, joins charge nurse Julie Bucci, RN, and staff nurse Alzona Chang, RN, in looking over the hospital's staffing schedule.
"A year later," Chandler says, "I was invited to visit THEIR home in San Diego. The girl was now in college and living on her own. This was a patient they thought would never make it out of the hospital."
After all she did for this patient and her family and the strong bond that developed, Chandler refuses to take any credit for the girl's recovery.
"All I was, was there. I was a catalyst for the healing. That's what nursing is all about."
JUDY SWANSON Nurse Recruiter
Judy Swanson
"You're always a nurse," Swanson says. "It's in your blood. I took my CPR class recently and the instructor asked how many of us would perform CPR on a stranger. Nine out of 10 said they wouldn't. My answer was, 'Of course! Yes!' And I have."
"(Nursing) is something that makes you feel you can make a difference. It's an honorable profession."
Nurse recruiter
Swanson first came to Hawai'i as a traveling nurse assigned to Kapi'olani. On a day off from work, she and another traveling nurse decided to do some sightseeing. It was during the morning rush hour on the Likelike as it enters Kane'ohe. The traffic was at a standstill and there was some sort of commotion on the roadway.
"I looked ahead," Swanson says, "and I could see two small bodies laying there on the side of the highway." An elderly couple out taking their regular morning walk had been hit by a car. The traffic was so snarled that ambulance crews couldn't get to the victims.
21 percent of nursing facility positions are vacant. About 400 nurses retire each year, but the state is graduating only 280 nursing students per year; the need for nurses will soar as the population ages and lives longer. Nurses in Hawai'i earn about $33,000 when adjusted for cost of living in Honolulu, compared with between $37,000 and $44,000 in major West Coast cities. As of March 11, there were 12,223 licenses issued in Hawai'i for registered nurses, 2,546 for licensed public nurses, and 444 for advanced practice registered nurses, up from 10,514 RN licenses, and 2,357 LPN and 308 APRN licenses in effect in 1998, but employers say the increase is not enough to fill the widening gap.
Swanson and her friend jumped out of their car and rushed to the two accident victims. They performed CPR on the couple for 50 minutes before paramedics were able to make it to the accident site.
Hawai'i's nursing dilemma
"We were out there with our bare hands, with none of the tools of the trade. We did the best we could."
The woman died that day. The man survived a few weeks before he, too, succumbed to his injuries. But the day after the accident, when Swanson reported for work, she found out the strangers she had tried to help weren't strangers at all.
"The receptionist came running up to me and she said, 'I want to thank you for what you did yesterday. That couple, they were my in-laws.' "
Swanson visits local high schools to encourage students to consider a career in nursing.
"I tell them of all the things you can do, it is something that makes you feel you can make a difference. It's an honorable profession."
ROSIE ELENTO Staff Nurse
Rosie Elento
She tries to fight it, but loses ground quickly. The tears well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. Her voice cracks.
"They say don't ever lose this feeling because that's why you became a nurse."
Staff nurse
"I knew I would start to cry if I told this story," she scolds herself.
Elento's story is of a favorite patient who started off being everyone's least favorite patient.
Word got around quickly among the staff that this young woman was grouchy, demanding and mean.
One evening, Elento made one last visit to the patient's room to give her some pain medication.
"I told her my shift was ending and I said good-night, and as I was walking away, she said to me, 'Don't leave me. Please. I don't want to be alone.' "
Surprised by the sudden crack in the woman's emotional armor, Elento granted her request.
Dorothy Hazlett
"I got all my charts, and I took them in her room, and I charted in her room until the end of my shift. That's all she needed. After that, she was nice. After that, she got better. Now, every year, she sends me a Christmas card. She sends me pictures of all her nieces and nephews and people I don't even know!"
"It's a great privilege to be with people at every stage of their lives."
Psychiatric clinical nurse specialist
Elento is crying in earnest now, and though she's embarrassed by the flood of emotion, she reminds herself that it's a good thing.
"They say don't ever lose this feeling because that's why you became a nurse."
Reach Lee Cataluna at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.