In my youth, I spent countless hours playing soccer, studying game tactics, and admiring my favorite players. I was obsessed with the sport and wanted to obtain every ounce of knowledge that could help me succeed. However, my passion was short-lived after I had to withdraw due to concussions. Days once filled with soccer became visits with the neurologist, where I realized the sport was now my past. As my attention shifted to neurological health, I became infatuated with brain function - not just the physiological aspect, but the entirety of the brain regarding social interactions, thought processes, and behavioral cognition. Ironically, I began to see my injuries as a blessing because they immersed me in a world full of knowledge that rivaled my love for soccer. Entering the clinic each time filled me with more questions, and I recall telling the neurologist that I looked forward to our visits because it was an opportunity to learn from him beyond my treatment. I discovered that the brain was extremely complex and had to be treated holistically, rather than isolating a singular issue. Just as the brain is full of complexities, so is each patient that will be presented to me as a nurse. Using my understanding from concussion visits, I intend to apply the same concept to patients. Rather than solely addressing the chief complaint, I believe patients value an individual who takes time to understand the full picture and develop a holistic plan. For example, when working at my local hospital, I had to bring a patient from the ER to a CT scan. The patient informed me that he suffered from claustrophobia and may have difficulty remaining still. I assured him that the scan was quick and he agreed to try. As we entered the room, I pulled the technologist aside and made them aware of the issue. However, they disregarded it. It was shocking that the technologist dismissed it so quickly, but I continued to assist in transferring the patient. As expected, we were unable to complete the scan. I offered some compassion and asked if he would mind sharing why he developed claustrophobia. He explained that he was bullied as a child and thrown down a hill in a cardboard box. I prompted him, if comfortable, to describe what about the situation made him feel overwhelmed. He stated that not being able to see outside the CT tube reminded him of the confined feeling inside the box. I asked if providing blankets on the table and maneuvering his head outside the tube would be beneficial. He was reluctant but decided to try again. Surprisingly, the scan went perfectly. The patient still felt the same fear but was able to cope enough to push through his trauma given the provided circumstances. This experience can be applied to every patient interaction. What may be a simple procedure for some, may be a traumatizing experience for another. I have witnessed toddlers who barely wince at a needle, and people with tattoos who scream hysterically. It is vital to encompass the person as a whole and utilize dynamic learning from one patient to the next, as treatment is everchanging. Catering to a patient’s situation takes more time and effort, but the most important thing is their well-being. Similar to the brain, addressing one issue seems straightforward, but a lifetime of elements within each person redirects the intended path. My goal as a nurse is to advocate for patients, learn from them, and connect personally to facilitate better care, just like treating the brain must incorporate the aggregate list of factors.

In my youth, soccer was my passion. Countless hours were spent on the field, honing techniques, studying tactics, and idolizing professional players. My dedication knew no bounds; I craved every ounce of knowledge that could propel me forward in the sport. But this fervor was abruptly halted when repetitive concussions forced me to withdraw from the team. The days once filled with practice drills and coaching meetings transitioned into visits to the neurologist's office, signaling the end of my soccer career. As I shifted my focus from soccer to my neurological health, I found myself drawn to the intricacies of brain function. It wasn't just the physiological aspect that fascinated me; it was the entire spectrum encompassing social interactions, thought processes, and behavioral cognition. Ironically, what initially seemed like a setback turned into a blessing as my injury plunged me into a world of unexplored knowledge that rivaled my love for soccer. Each visit to the neurologist fueled my curiosity, prompting questions that extended beyond the realm of concussions. I even found myself eagerly anticipating these appointments, viewing them as opportunities to learn beyond the scope of my treatment. Through my exploration, I discovered the complexity of the brain and the necessity of treating it holistically rather than focusing on isolated issues. This holistic approach resonated with me and would later shape my perspective as a nurse. Just as the brain is unique and multifaceted, so too are the patients I would encounter in my nursing career. Drawing from my experiences with concussions, I resolved to apply this holistic mindset to patient care. Instead of merely addressing the chief complaint, I recognized the value of understanding the full picture and tailoring a comprehensive plan to suit each individual's needs. A particular incident during my time as a patient transporter at the local hospital exemplifies this approach. Assigned to accompany a patient to a CT scan, I took the time to inform him about the procedure. To my surprise, he disclosed his severe claustrophobia, expressing concerns about remaining still during the scan. Despite my efforts to convey this information to the technologist, it was disregarded, and we proceeded with the scan. Predictably, the attempt was unsuccessful, and I was tasked with returning the patient to his room. Determined to alleviate his anxiety, I engaged him in conversation, eventually uncovering the root cause of his claustrophobia—a childhood trauma involving bullying and confinement. Armed with this knowledge, I proposed adjustments to the scan setup, such as providing blankets and positioning his head outside the CT tube. Though initially hesitant, the patient agreed to give it another try. To our collective relief, the scan proceeded smoothly, with the patient demonstrating remarkable resilience in the face of his fears. This encounter served as a poignant reminder that effective patient care extends beyond addressing physical symptoms; it requires empathy, understanding, and a willingness to adapt to individual needs. Each patient brings a unique set of circumstances and preferences, necessitating a dynamic approach to treatment. My goal as a nurse is to advocate for patients, drawing from my diverse experiences and employing a holistic perspective to deliver compassionate and individualized care. Just as I learned with the brain, addressing one issue may seem straightforward, but true healing encompasses a multitude of factors. By embracing this philosophy, I aspire to make a meaningful difference in the lives of those entrusted to my care.