Patients with life-limiting diseases face many unknowns: fear of pain, death, changes in the way their bodies look and behave, worries about how their illnesses will affect their relationships. In a conventional cancer hospital, this is the story of how one nurse helps each patient cope with suffering in all its many forms. Using real-life examples drawn from her many years of clinical practice, Patrice Rancour demonstrates how the therapeutic use of self - and not a prescription pad - alleviates suffering. She draws intimate pictures of how nurses work behind the scenes, using "Courageous Conversations": that is, how to break bad news, how to talk about dying, the inevitable loss of control that comes with serious illness, how to get used to a body changed by illness and/or treatment. The goal is often how to help the patient and family actually transcend the perceived obstacles that the illness presents, so that while the body may not actually be cured, the opportunity for a life to be healed is ever present. The effort here is to help the patient and family hold themselves larger, to see that while not everything is fixed, not everything is broken either; to remind them that they are not just their bodies, and definitely not their scars. Additionally, for readers who might be curious as to how holistic therapies are integrated into a conventional treatment plan, she models the use of interventions such as guided imagery, visualization, and Reiki which can be taught and learned to address decision-making, pain, fear, grief, anxiety and depression associated with serious disease. These interventions often address spiritual - not religious - concerns that people facing their mortality often wrestle with. How to have such explorations without imposing one's own beliefs onto that patient is an exercise in self-awareness. A related issue in treating people with such illnesses is that health care professionals come into contact with people very different from themselves. Cultural competence in the face of such relationships implies that we are willing to learn from them, to ask lots of questions, to respect that the differences among us invite openings to make connections, not to erect barriers. In the end, our humanity, after all, reminds us that we all love, we all cry, we all laugh, no matter what the colors of our flags are. Another population inside the hospital worthy of attention are the health care providers who minister to the sick. As the first responders who 'run into the burning building while everyone else is running out,' health care providers are exposed to long hours of contact trauma, that is providing care to people who are suffering. It is an error in judgment to believe they are not affected by such compassion fatigue. Throughout her day, Rancour interacts with her colleagues in such a way as to acknowledge what it costs them to put themselves in relationship with people who are suffering: fellow pilgrims on the path. The book offers up numerous examples of simple kindnesses among nurses, physicians and other health care workers that can make this work peak, not bleak experiences. This book was written years before the current pandemic revealed what giving care to life-threatened patients looks like behind the closed doors of our hospitals. If you are expecting to feel depressed by such a read, may you unexpectedly find it to be hopeful and life-affirming! The perfect gift for that special nurse in your life or a thoughtful read for seriously ill patients. Consider giving The Pager Chronicles, Volumes I and II.
Patients with life-limiting diseases face many unknowns: fear of pain, death, changes in the way their bodies look and behave, worries about how their illnesses will affect their relationships. In a conventional cancer hospital, this is the story of how one nurse helps each patient cope with suffering in all its many forms. Using real-life examples drawn from her many years of clinical practice, Patrice Rancour demonstrates how the therapeutic use of self - and not a prescription pad - alleviates suffering. She draws intimate pictures of how nurses work behind the scenes, using "Courageous Conversations": that is, how to break bad news, how to talk about dying, the inevitable loss of control that comes with serious illness, how to get used to a body changed by illness and/or treatment. The goal is often how to help the patient and family actually transcend the perceived obstacles that the illness presents, so that while the body may not actually be cured, the opportunity for a life to be healed is ever present. The effort here is to help the patient and family hold themselves larger, to see that while not everything is fixed, not everything is broken either; to remind them that they are not just their bodies, and definitely not their scars. Additionally, for readers who might be curious as to how holistic therapies are integrated into a conventional treatment plan, she models the use of interventions such as guided imagery, visualization, and Reiki which can be taught and learned to address decision-making, pain, fear, grief, anxiety and depression associated with serious disease. These interventions often address spiritual - not religious - concerns that people facing their mortality often wrestle with. How to have such explorations without imposing one's own beliefs onto that patient is an exercise in self-awareness. A related issue in treating people with such illnesses is that health care professionals come into contact with people very different from themselves. Cultural competence in the face of such relationships implies that we are willing to learn from them, to ask lots of questions, to respect that the differences among us invite openings to make connections, not to erect barriers. In the end, our humanity, after all, reminds us that we all love, we all cry, we all laugh, no matter what the colors of our flags are. Another population inside the hospital worthy of attention are the health care providers who minister to the sick. As the first responders who 'run into the burning building while everyone else is running out,' health care providers are exposed to long hours of contact trauma, that is providing care to people who are suffering. It is an error in judgment to believe they are not affected by such compassion fatigue. Throughout her day, Rancour interacts with her colleagues in such a way as to acknowledge what it costs them to put themselves in relationship with people who are suffering: fellow pilgrims on the path. The book offers up numerous examples of simple kindnesses among nurses, physicians and other health care workers that can make this work peak, not bleak experiences. This book was written years before the current pandemic revealed what giving care to life-threatened patients looks like behind the closed doors of our hospitals. If you are expecting to feel depressed by such a read, may you unexpectedly find it to be hopeful and life-affirming! The perfect gift for that special nurse in your life or a thoughtful read for seriously ill patients. Consider giving The Pager Chronicles, Volumes I and II.
How do you tell children that their mother has just died? What do you say to a man wanting to join the breast cancer support group? How do you respond to a grieving widower who is so angry about the death of his wife that he has left menacing notes inside the hospital's waiting room magazines? And through it all, how do you keep your heart open to the suffering of those around you, and show up to do it again the next day? These are just a few of the stories that make up the second installment of The Tales Trilogy, the creative, non-fiction account of a nurse behaviorist working in an academic cancer research center. Her pager provides the literary device that moves her from one patient care scenario to the next, encountering people who are trying not merely to survive their illnesses, but to transcend them. In a world shaped by suffering, serious illness offers each of us an opportunity to learn about ourselves, to become more expansive, to open our hearts to our own suffering and to the suffering of others. These stories of healing demonstrate how using the illness journey can help us to hold ourselves larger, and to emerge at even higher levels of wellness. Healing is the intentionality to do just that. And healing is what this book is very much concerned with. Rancour's description of the therapeutic use of self stands in stark contrast to today's high tech world of sickness care. While reliance on telemetry, pharmacotherapy, genomics, and nano-technology can often give people the illusion of progress, it can also usher in a world of increasingly ambiguous ethical and moral decision-making which, for many patients and their families, only intensifies suffering. The only real antidote to suffering is compassion and meaning-making. Tenderly talking to people about facing down their deepest fears, fears about losing parts of their bodies, what will become of them when they die, and even how to live within the confines of the limitations such illnesses impose upon them is not for the faint of heart. This book skillfully weaves stories that demonstrate how such compassion is actually put to the test in the service of healing all in the midst of the profusion of technology that can at times create its own nightmares for the people who must navigate through it. And as all this is transpiring inside the hospital, The Pager Chronicles Volume II unfolds against the backdrop of 9/11, pitting the intimate tales of people attempting to transcend their personal encounters with death against the backdrop of the millennial Armageddon engulfing an entire world. The perfect gift for that special nurse in your life or a thoughtful read for seriously ill patients. Consider giving The Pager Chronicles, Volumes I and II.
This will help us customize your experience to showcase the most relevant content to your age group
Please select from below
Login
Not registered?
Sign up
Already registered?
Success – Your message will goes here
We'd love to hear from you!
Thank you for visiting our website. Would you like to provide feedback on how we could improve your experience?
This site does not use any third party cookies with one exception — it uses cookies from Google to deliver its services and to analyze traffic.Learn More.