Product Description

The team of nurses that Tilda Shalof found herself working with in the intensive care unit (ICU) of a big-city hospital was known as “Laura’s Line.” They were a bit wild: smart, funny, disrespectful of authority, but also caring and incredibly committed to their jobs. Laura set the tone with her quick remarks. Frances, from Newfoundland, was famous for her improvised recipes. Justine, the union rep, wore t-shirts emblazoned with defiant slogans, like “Nurses Care But It’s Not in the Budget.” Shalof was the one who had been to university. The others accused her of being “sooo sensitive.”

They depended upon one another. Working in the ICU was both emotionally grueling and physically exhausting. Many patients, quite simply, were dying, and the staff strove mightily to prolong their lives. With their skill, dedication, and the resources of modern science, they sometimes were almost too successful. Doctors and nurses alike wondered if what they did for terminally-ill patients was not, in some cases, too extreme. A number of patients were admitted when it was too late even for heroic measures. A boy struck down by a cerebral aneurysm in the middle of a little-league hockey game. A woman rescued – too late – from a burning house. It all took its toll on the staff.

And yet, on good days, they thrived on what they did. Shalof describes a colleague who is managing a “crashing” patient: “I looked at her. Nicky was flushed with excitement. She was doing five different things at the same time, planning ahead for another five. She was totally focused, in her element, in control, completely at home with the chaos. There was a huge smile on her face. Nurses like to fix things. If they can.”

Shalof, a veteran ICU nurse, reveals what it is really like to work behind the closed hospital curtains. The drama, the sardonic humour, the grinding workload, the cheerful camaraderie, the big issues and the small, all are brought vividly to life in this remarkable book.


From the Hardcover edition.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #41949 in Books
• Published on: 2005-02-22
• Released on: 2005-02-22
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 352 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9780771080876
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
• Click here to view our Condition Guide and Shipping Prices

Review
“Tilda Shalof’s A Nurse’s Story is the first time the work of nurses has been documented in print in Canada in such an honest, no-holds-barred account. . . . Shalof has seen it all, and writes about it, too.”
–The Calgary Herald

“But her book isn’t a doom-and-gloom account of overworked nurses. Interspersed with tales of tragedy are accounts of the funny, often bizarre events that transpire on an ICU.”
Canadian Press

“A compelling book laced with humour.”
–Times & Transcript

“There are genuinely heart-rending, disturbing and thought-provoking stories to be found in the pages of A Nurse’s Story. If this book doesn’t give you pause, you’re made of stone.”
–Edmonton Journal

“In a post-SARS world where nurses are finally being recognized for the heroes they always were, A Nurse’s Story is the best-seller no one can put down.”
–Montreal Gazette

“This is a difficult book. Its content is difficult. Its tone is difficult. But it is also difficult to put down, so compelling and beautifully written are these stores.… Shalof’s stories are naked and vulnerable. Nothing is held back in her portrayals of her most memorable experiences from the early ‘80s to the SARS crisis.… Shalof’s colleagues point out during one of their ongoing discussions about the value of their work, that eventually everyone needs a nurse. And for that reason alone, A Nurse’s Story would worth reading, in order to understand where it is most of us will end up sooner or later, what it is that might be visited upon us and just who it is that will be looking after us.… A Nurse’s Story helps us understand where it is most of us will end up sooner or later.”
–Winnipeg Free Press

“Readers may approach this book with the hope of reading dramatic tales such as those seen on television shows such as “ER.” While such readers are not likely to be disappointed, they are likely to discover more than they had hoped.… By turns sad, funny and touching, the author has done an admirable job of providing an insightful look into the real world of an ICU.”
–Brandon This Week

“A cracking good read.… Despite the overt moralizing, this is undoubtedly a strong memoir. I hope it’s not the only story Shalof has to tell.”
–Quill & Quire


From the Hardcover edition.

About the Author
An intensive care unit nurse with twenty years of experience in Israel and Canada, Tilda Shalof now lives in Toronto.


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
It’s night shift. I jot down a series of numbers onto my patient’s twenty-four-hour flow sheet and then prepare to read them out loud to the medical resident who is standing with me at the patient’s bedside, waiting to hear them.

“Everything is out of whack,” I say: “7.26, 68, 76, 14.”

That’s a losing lottery ticket. No one can survive such a deranged acid-base balance, sky-high carbon dioxide levels, and plummeting oxygenation and bicarbonate ions.

“Those numbers are not compatible with life,” the resident says.

“Not life on this planet, anyway,” says Lynne, the nurse who’s kneeling by the door, packing up her knapsack, getting ready to leave. She was on the day shift and is the only one in the room who’s smiling: she’s going home. “I’m outta here. I’m going home to have sex with my husband.” Lynne has finished giving me report on Mr. DeWitt, all the facts and the numbers, what’s high, what’s low, what’s rising, and what’s falling. Now it’s up to me to carry on throughout the night.

“Have fun,” I say as I’m thinking about something else. “You know what, Lynne? I think we should call a family meeting. Does his wife know how bad the situation is? Has anyone told her? I’m going to call her. I think she needs to come in.”

“She just went home,” says Lynne. “She’s been here all day and was exhausted when she left. What makes you think he might not make it through the night? He’s been spiralling downward for weeks. You could probably get him through the night.”

Together we stand there, Lynne just outside the door, me just inside, surveying the body of the middle-aged man stretched out in the bed, surrounded by machines and monitors, tubes and wires, bags and drains that expose all the secret fluids of the body.

“I see your point, though,” Lynne said. “When you take a minute to step back and really look at it all, you do start to wonder sometimes. But do you really think it’s going to be tonight?”

“I have a feeling.” I have learned to trust my feelings.

I consult with the medical resident and together we decide that I should call Mrs. DeWitt and ask her to come in. I tell her that unfortunately, her husband is not doing well. His blood pressure is very low, I say. It is dropping, I add, as gently as possible. He is on powerful intravenous medications for his blood pressure, inotropes we call them, but we have had to add another drug because of the serious heart irregularities that he developed today. Another problem is that his urine output is dropping off. Perhaps she would like to return to the hospital and we can talk about it further? Is there someone who could drive her?

*****

“FAMILY MEETING” is the term we use to gather all the people closest to the patient to provide them with an update on the patient’s condition. Sometimes we call a family meeting to discuss the death and how we will let it happen. A family meeting is rarely called if the patient is improving.

We convene in a shabby, cramped room called the “quiet room.” It is a tiny room with buzzing fluorescent lights, no windows — I would never take anyone in there if they suffered from claustrophobia. It has the feel of a bunker in a war zone, but aesthetics aside, it seems to be the only room in this huge, bustling, overcrowded, downtown hospital that could be made available for this purpose. The quiet room! It is probably the most disquieting place in the whole hospital. Bombs are detonated in here.

We turn our attention to Mrs. DeWitt. She is the one who knows Edgar DeWitt best. She is the person who will speak on his behalf, as he is no longer conscious and cannot tell us himself what he wants us to do. She perches on the chair, frail, but tensed up. She knows why we’re gathered here.

“What would Mr. DeWitt have wanted?” the doctor asks his wife.

“To live! That’s what he would have wanted.” She sobs into her hands.

Of course. ­Isn’t it obvious? ­Isn’t that what anyone would want?

“We understand,” the doctor says, “but, given his deteriorating condition and his irreversible medical problems, if we continue with the life-support measures that we have in place, we are merely prolonging the inevitable.”

I watch Mrs. DeWitt and I can see that in her panicked state, she finds comfort in the simple fact that the doctor is talking, because all the time the doctor is talking, her husband is still alive.

“We do not believe that we can reverse his medical problems. Perhaps the time has come, that we should very gently, slowly, when you are ready, of course, remove the ventilator, all the life supports, and let nature take its course?”

She sits weeping into the cave of her two hands. I offer her a new box of tissues and pull out the first one to get it started.

“Did you ever discuss this situation with him?” I press gently. “Do you think he would want all this to be done?” My words are like sticks, poking at a fire, making it flare.

“Who would want all this done?” she asks.

The doctor and I smile at her response, so true and honest.

“I ­don’t know what to do,” Mrs. DeWitt says. “Whenever we had a big decision to make, Ed and I always made it together.”

“There’s no need to decide anything this minute,” I say, “but his condition is very critical. Anything could happen tonight.”

Whatever happens, it will be a long night for all of us.

The family meeting is over and we return to Mr. DeWitt’s room.

Frances peeks her head in the door and whispers, “Do you want to order in food, Tilda?”


From the Hardcover edition.

Customer Reviews

Gripping, touching, terrifying and heartwarming, and above all honest
I was in the hospital a lot as a teen, for numerous surgeries on my lungs, and I developed an interest in medical non-fiction as a way of understanding the emotionally complicated world of medicine. I have read about twenty non-fiction books by doctors, nurses, interns, and others involved in the field, and Shalof's really stands out from the rest.

For one thing, nurses put in more time with each patient than doctors and surgeons do, so there is an emotional minefield ready to be explored. Shalof writes with such direct and unmistakeable honesty about her conflicting emotions in different situations, her thoughts and opinions about each patient's journey in the system, and in a broader sense with the incredibly frustrating and at the same time very gratifying field of nursing.

She brings up fascinating insights that the other books I have read didn't touch on, and the writing is so accessible and personal that I couldn't wait to get back to this book when I put it down.

I am really hoping for more from Shalof, because her writing is both beautiful and refreshingly frank.

Very Highly Recommended; Appealing on Many Levels
Initially purchased title, recommended by a collogue, to augment my clinical research on our medical care crisis, shortage and inadequacy of nursing care, high prescription costs, etc., here in Maine, vis a vis our Northern neighbors. Was hoping to find Ms. Shalof's work informative; but very pleasantly surprised to find it so very engrossing and moving, as well.

Must've feared receiving a dry recitation of facts and figures, with a few bare-bones character sketches sprinkled in. Hardly the case, fortunately. Quite detail-rich and filled with a myriad of fascinating characters, both care givers and patients. Confess I finished it, and it's not slim by any means, in 48 hours (my Inbox is now suffering for it!).

Must note, Tilda's work personalized the sometimes heroic challenges high-pressure, medical care practioners struggle with, particularly ICU; at the same time it opened a fascinating window on patient perspective I suspect could not've seen otherwise. Insight on quality of care issues, as well as the "essence" of the nursing experience, will certainly inform my project recommendations. Personally, intrigued by the Canadian nursing perspective -- which, as it turns out (least for this nurse) is not so unlike the best of ours here in the states.

Finally, must comment: top-notch writing! Don't usually lavish praise, but having just finished (for recreation) Hemingway's "Farewell to Arms," I found the unadonred, yet touching directness of her prose, esp. for a first-time author, to've stood up well; in particular, reminiscent of the emotional impact of Hemingway's Catherine in Childbirth scene. Must confess, found as entertaining as P.D. James' "Shroud for a Nightingale," too. Read this book! Won't disappoint on any level. Felt as almost knew author at end -- surely hope to see more from her -- and somehow witnessed her struggles and epiphanies, too. Not crossing the border anytime soon, but wouldn't mind shaking Tilda's hand (unless she'd just completed some messy, hands-on, life saving medical procedure, of course).

Outstanding!
I have read many books written by doctors and nurses about their experiences and this one is definitely the best I have ever read. Not only is Tilda and incredible nurse but she's an incredible writer.

I can speak from experience, not as a nurse but as a patient. I have had six neurosurgeries, 2 of which required short stays in the ICU. I went through hell with every surgery and I learned that nurses can have a huge influence on how you feel both physically and emotionally.

Throughout these surgeries, I had a wide range of nurses. At the top were the nurses who were wonderful. They sometimes went above and beyond what they absolutely had to do. A couple of them even managed to bring a smile to my face when I was feeling so sick that I wanted to die. In the middle were the nurses who were kind and caring but didn't necessarily do anything special that set them apart from the rest. At the bottom were the nurses who showed very little empathy and didn't do a thing to help me through the trauma I was going through. I had a couple of nurses who were downright cold and even mean to me.

By reading this book, I can tell that Tilda, along with some of the other nurses she talks about, would definitely have been at the top of that list. So, Tilda, if you are reading this, we need more nurses like you!

This is a great book for anyone, whether they are in the medical profession, have been a patient themselves, or are simply interested in reading about this sort of thing. It was like reading a novel that you just can't put down. Definitely a 5 star book!