The Burn Unit

I was eighteen years old when I received my job position as a Burn Tech at Saint Elizabeth’s Regional Medical Center.  I was extremely ecstatic and humbled when offered the position, and this attitude remains with me today.  Three years later, I continue to work in the Burn Unit as a Burn Tech, existing as a much changed person than I was three years previously.  My eyes have been introduced to a vast array of experiences, and my heart has been made known a large collection of emotions. 

There are sixteen single-bed patient rooms in the Burn Unit; numbered from 120-135.  The unit is formatted as a large circular square, with the patient rooms encompassing the nurses’ station.  The unit as a whole is not very large compared to other units in the hospital.  Walking twenty-three times around the unit is equal to one mile.  Many times I have walked this path with a number of my patients, sometimes with patients who are walking for the first time after experiencing the restriction of bed-rest for months.  Working with patients who are suffering a great deal of agony can be very challenging at times.  But watching as a burn victim progresses and heals through months of bed-rest, then finally to walk alongside them after being relieved from their bed-rest, is the best feeling in the world. 

I look at my job as though I am a mediator for those struggling; I am there to help my patients endure the physical and emotional pains of burn trauma.  The part I hate and love the most is patient contact.  It saddens me to help someone who has been cursed with the unfair reality of burn trauma.  I wish I would tell them what to expect, what they will endure for the next months or more, to tell them this will be a walk in the park.  But who am I, I have never been burned to the extent of hospitalization.  All I can do is be there for them, lend a hand to squeeze when the pain is too overwhelming, a person to talk to, a shoulder to lean on.  I am there for the patient; patient satisfaction is a high priority on my list.  This does not parallel the attitude that a restaurant would have for their customer, or how a retailer would treat their shoppers.  I do not try to feel for my patients, I try to feel with them: reciprocate excitement when they hear the news they do not have to have any more surgeries; sorrow when they are burdened with the agonizing feelings of homesickness; happiness when they have received a set discharge date.

Working in the Burn Unit can be very difficult, but surpassing this difficulty is the feelings of reward.  It breaks my heart to see someone go through the process of healing their burns, but my heart is immediately put back together when I see them walk out and leave the hospital.  I will only know this person for a short period of time in their life, and then probably never see them again – but this short period of time will be forever remembered by them.  It brings great feelings of happiness to know that I was there for that individual during their moment of greatest suffering.  Hopefully I was the smile when they needed it most.