Nurses and narrative

Taylor Jakubowski (Nursing ’06) was in an ethical quandary. One of her patients had been diagnosed with terminal cancer days earlier, but no one had told him. “That upset me -- shouldn’t he know?”

With 30-hour workweeks on top of their class schedules, nursing students have little time to process and analyze what they encounter on the units. That’s why Jeanne Erickson, an oncology nurse who teaches in the School of Nursing, started a creative writing contest to give students “a place to vent and unload.”

“I have coffee with a friend, then I go and see someone die. I’m not your typical 20-year- old,” said Laura Bland (Nursing ’05).

The contest has inspired prose and poetry ranging from the comedic (seeing bile geyser like Old Faithful) to the tragic (holding the hand of someone who’s dying). They come from students of all ages, from 19 to 49. “Nursing is an emotional experience, regardless of age,” said Josie McElroy (Nursing ’03, MSN Nursing ’05), a mother of three who is now pursuing her family nurse practitioner certificate at U.Va.

Now in its third year, the contest attracts the work of up to 15 students, who submit poems and essays each December. Lisa Russ Spaar (English ’78, MA, Creative Writing ’82), director of U.Va.’s creative writing program, and two nursing professors judge the work. In mid-January they announce the winning entries, which fetch a $100 prize for the top poem and essay and $50 for runners-up. One student each year is also given the honor of reading his or her work on the local NPR station. The contest is funded by the School of Nursing Alumni Association.

“The contest not only encourages students to express themselves, but also educates the public about what nurses do on a daily basis,” said Erickson, who credits her alma mater, Yale Nursing School, with the idea. Yale sponsors a similar contest, and winners are published in an anthology. 

And there’s an added benefit, said McElroy, who won $100 in 2003 for her essay “Day on a Psych Unit.” “It fosters our ability to think creatively. We learn how to apply that to become better nurses through reflection and through our relationships with our patients and peers. To me, that’s the real prize.”

Read samples of their work below.

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“This young man passed away as my friend and I stood at his bedside clinging to each other’s hand in disbelief. We had just watched a man die. He simply turned his head toward the window and stopped breathing.”

—Laura Bland, “One Purple Grape”

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“We walk side by side
You—taller and darker-skinned
I—younger and saner (we’re supposing).
I hold a red umbrella over my curly hair
You let September rain fall on your black sweatshirt hood.
You tell me your mother couldn’t take it
Any longer, you with all these voices,
Loud parties in your bedroom
When you were all alone.
You tell me about your criminal charges between
Puffs on your fourth cigarette.
I hear: little girl, semen,
And I don’t ask you to repeat what else you mumbled
Nor do I avoid your exhaled smoke.
—Kelly Davison, “Morning Walk at the State Mental Hospital”

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"She confesses that she is afraid a hospital worker is tainting her food. She believes this woman has followed her from another hospital, where she was also tainting her food. I am silent for a moment and she very calmly says, “I know this sounds delusional. I can’t prove any of it, but I am still afraid.” This must be an important admission for K.M. I am beginning to understand that she will probably have to live with her delusions and her fear. All we can really do is help her cope. It will be very difficult to be her friend, her child, her husband. I hope they don’t give up on her. It’s even harder to be K.M. and I hope she doesn’t give up on herself.”

—Josie McElroy, “A Day on the Psych Unit”

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He is missing teeth.
I know he is poor,
But I liked to imagine them
Knocked out in a fight,
7th grade,
Over a girl.
I want him to say,
“You shoulda seen the other guy.”
The ones he has left
Like shark’s teeth,
Small, pointy,
As black as his skin.
He wishes
He could still eat
Snapper.
—Taylor Jakubowski, “Room 330”

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“After this I am going to rehab,” he replied cheerfully…As though it was obvious that he would recover. He had no clue that he is dying, I thought to myself. No doctor has sat down next to him and said, “Look, we are going to use radiation to shrink this tumor for your comfort, and to possibly buy you more time, but we can’t fix you.” Should he hear it from the student nurse that he will probably not live into the next year?”

8212;Sara Stassen, “Paper Topic”