I was recently on holiday in France with my husband when I received a phone call from my 26-year-old daughter saying: “don’t worry, but I am being admitted to hospital”. As a nurse I stayed calm and as a mum I worried – and got on the next ferry home.
The good news is that my daughter is well, at home and moving on from her adventures within the NHS system. Thank you to all those who made this possible, however, I feel it is my duty as a nurse to share with you how I felt as a nurse and parent to an adult daughter in this journey.
After a long journey from France and through a maze of hospital corridors at a very large hospital, I finally ended up in the area I needed to be in. I asked where I would find my daughter and the response was: “what bed number is she?” You can imagine my shock at this. I know we work in a fast-paced health care environment, however, to not be able to know or look for the name of a patient and point their relative in the right direction is a worrying first impression.
As professionals we know that communication is the key to everything that we do. Clear and respectful communication between us, as professionals, and our patients is, in my opinion, one of the most valuable skills that we possess. Considering patients as individuals with distinct needs, preferences and values may have been lost within this area as during the time I spent on the ward my daughter was only ever referred to as “Bed 19”.
Her medication was given to “Bed 19” and when undertaking her observations, my daughter was not asked her name or talked to at all. When I gave the nurse my daughter’s name and asked if she had been given her pain relief medication, the nurse asked what her bed number was. By now I think you will all understand how I was feeling. The nurse sensed my shock but did not talk to me about it. I mentioned the NMC code of conduct and decided it was time to leave. My daughter was finally able to leave Bed 19 (twelve hours after the doctor said she could go home), with medications for Bed 19.
It’s clear that these nurses have adopted the use of bed numbers as a communication habit without fully considering the potential impact on patient dignity. It is a learned behaviour that’s being passed down to the nursing students.
It's essential to recognise that addressing patients by bed numbers can have unintended consequences, such as depersonalisation and a perceived lack of respect. I felt confident in my daughter’s ability to work through this experience, but I wondered what would have happened had she not been able to or was so ill she was unable to communicate.
As nurses we must be aware of the potential implications and strive to balance efficiency with personalised and respectful communication to uphold the principles of patient-centred care.
