Do you remember watching Bed Bath 101 during your first semester of nursing school? I do. Sitting with 25 friends watching someone bathe two people – male and female – with accompanied lecture. Awkward.
Betty Ferrell, RN, PhD, FAAN, spoke at the 36th Annual ONS Congress in Boston, pointing out the bed bath is one of the first things we learn in nursing school, and it is one of the only things we are allowed to do as a brand new student nurse on the floor because, after all, how could you hurt someone during a bed bath. Come to find out, there are many ways, but I digress. Dr. Ferrell briefly mentioned the bed bath is a lost art – rushed through, if done at all – despite us knowing the holistic comfort of being clean.
I am a fan of cleanliness, but I’d rather not bathe a complete stranger (or acquaintances for that matter). However, as a nurse, I do know that care is part of my responsibility, and I am thankful to the many great nursing assistants who understand the importance of a thorough bath, too. At times, I have rushed through bed baths, thinking of the growing to-do list and soon-to-be announced priorities. On other occasions, though, I have taken my time, even brushing my patient’s hair as though it was my only duty for the day. I know my patients felt my presence or lack thereof in all circumstances. Interestingly, Dr. Ferrell discussed nursing presence – being completely present with every person in every situation – soon thereafter as essential for quality nursing care.
I have heard nursing experts such as Dr. Ferrell highlight seemingly routine nursing activities as quavering foundations of nursing care. I have heard others speak of such “tasks” diminishing the professionalism of nurses and urge nurses to delegate as much as possible to maximize both human and financial resources. What do you think? Is the bed bath a lost art? Do we trivialize its value in care?
thenerdynurse
May 11, 2011 12:44 amI remember once stepping into the shower with a patient in her wheelchair and washing her hair and bathing her. She was depressed, often confused, and distant. She was a hospice patient, but however was fairly young. I bathed her, putt on her gown, brushed and french-braided your hair. She laughed during the shower and cried afterward as she hugged me. I didn’t have the time to do it, but I knew she needed it.
She told every person who entered the room after that about the great shower I gave her. It elevated her mood and made her feel human again. I was so thankful to be able to give her back her dignity in some small way.
nursetopia
May 11, 2011 9:47 amLovely example!