In the heart of the medical field lies the nurturing presence of nurses.
As National Nurses Week unfolds from May 6 to 12, it’s time for communities everywhere to pause and reflect on the indispensable role nurses play in our health care ecosystem. Beyond being health care providers, nurses embody the essence of compassion, advocacy and expertise. They are heroes whose contributions resonate far beyond the confines of hospital walls.
They are not just caregivers; they are companions on the arduous journey of illness, offering solace and support when it’s needed most. In moments of vulnerability, it’s often the gentle reassurance of a nurse that brings comfort and hope to patients and their families. In this role, nurses serve as a beacon of empathy, providing not just medical care but also emotional sustenance.
Nurses serve as invaluable liaisons between patients, families and the broader health care team. They bridge the gap between complex medical jargon and everyday understanding, helping patients to make informed decisions about their health. Through clear communication and advocacy, nurses ensure that patients receive the personalized care they deserve. Whether it’s coordinating treatment plans, advocating for patient rights or providing vital education, nurses are the linchpins of effective health care delivery.
In the intricacy of individualized health care, nurses act as threads binding it all together. They possess a unique ability to see patients not merely as cases but as individuals with distinct needs and preferences. By tailoring care plans to suit each patient’s unique circumstances, nurses uphold the fundamental principle of patient-centered care.
“Nurses are the lifeline and lifeblood of our Stony Brook Medicine health care system,” said Carol Gomes, chief executive officer, Stony Brook University Hospital. “They provide exceptional and compassionate care for our patients. I’m so grateful and proud of their dedication and commitment to quality care. We celebrate our team during Nurses Week and applaud their talents every day of the year.”
As we honor National Nurses Week, let us not only acknowledge the tireless dedication and sacrifices of nurses but also advocate for the recognition and support they truly deserve. Let us continue to invest in their professional development, provide them with the resources they need to thrive and ensure their voices are heard in shaping health care policies. Because a health care system that truly prioritizes the well-being of its citizens is one that honors and uplifts its nursing workforce.
Photo courtesy of Library of Congress Prints & Photographs
By Nomi Dayan
Nomi Dayan
Becoming ill is never fun. Becoming ill when away from home is worse. And becoming ill at sea on a whaling ship is the worst of all. “Let a man be sick anywhere else — but on shipboard,” wrote whaler Francis A. Olmstead in 1841 in “Incidents of a Whaling Voyage.”
Whalers who fell ill could find little comfort. Olmstead continued to explain, “When we are sick on shore, we obtain good medical advice, kind attention, quiet rest, and a well ventilated room. The invalid at sea can command but very few of these alleviations to his sufferings.” There were no “sick days” for whalers, who were expected to work during busy times if they could stand.
The incapacitated whaler would lie on his grimy, cramped straw mattress in his misery, listen to the nonstop creaking of the ship, roll from side to side with the swaying of the ship, and breathe the fishy, putrid air. He would eventually be visited by the “doctor,” a.k.a. the captain. The skipper would rely on his weak medical and surgical knowledge as he opened his medicine chest and offered some powdered rhubarb, a little buckthorn syrup, or perhaps mercurial ointment, chamomile flowers or cobalt. The whaler would then either recover or die. If he passed, the captain would casually mention his death in the next letter home, and perhaps pick up a replacement at the next port.
If the whaler was lucky, he might awaken from his burning fever and shivering chills to hear a soothing voice, feel a cool cloth being gently placed on his forehead, and perhaps taste a bit of food offered to him. He would sit up to catch a glimpse of this angel visiting him with her wide skirt and billowing sleeves.
She was none other than the captain’s wife. Women who lived on board whaling ships with their captain-husbands were primarily there to avoid the widow-like years ashore. Although these wives generally lived a profoundly separate life from the rest of the crew at sea, some wives recorded in their journals how they aided sick crew members as nurses. They wrote how they were bothered to see others suffer, and felt satisfied with their own usefulness in a situation where medical resources were bordering nonexistent.
Even if there was not much she could accomplish medically for a sick or hurt whaler, it seems her presence alone could be a comfort to men: Olmstead lamented that the attention an ill man received from other men “have none of that soothing influence which woman’s tender sympathy alone can impart.”
Mary Brewster, who sailed from Connecticut in 1845, observed that “a whaleship is a hard place for comfort for well ones and much more sick men.” She documented in her journal how “the best part of the day I have spent in making doses for the sick and dressing sore hands and feet. 5 sick and I am sent to for all the medicin[e]. I am willing to do what can be done for any one particularly if sick.”
Another wife of a coastal trader, Mary Satterly Rowland of Setauket, reported an unending job tending maladies and injuries: “First came Jack, a dose of salts. Second case Nick with a sore leg knocked off the skin on launching day. Thirdly Gardner taken cold and confined to the forecastle several days. Fourth, Cook Rheumatic pain and in bed sick … Fifth case Lawrence cut his toe.”
Martha Brown of Orient also played nurse at sea to an unfortunate young man, John. “I went into steerage this afternoon to give him some medicine, and asked him how he felt. His answer was ‘Mrs. Brown, I feel bad.’ My heart was touched. It is very hard to see him gradually growing worse and can do nothing for him.” One can imagine Martha’s grief watching him die shortly after. He was buried at sea.
One whaling wife’s experience as a nurse led her to falling in love with her patient. When 29-year-old first officer Will Williams was badly injured, Elizabeth Stetson nursed him all night, and continued to visit him when he was hospitalized. She washed his hair, cleaned his nails, and chatted – and chatted – and chatted, growing emotionally closer to him until she admitted in her diary, “I hope that Charles [husband] does not mind if I do love Willie so much.” Once he recovered, though, and rejoined the ship months later, she continued to get to know him – and his faults – and the spell was broken.
Most wives were happy to feel valuable and help contribute to the voyage’s success. Some took the initiative to go beyond their nursing roles: Calista Stover of Maine persuaded the crew of a sailing ship to swear off tobacco and alcohol while in port (the pledge didn’t stick). Others tried to reform men’s swearing. However, women tried to improve the crew, their support gives understanding to the root of the word “nurse,” which is Latin for “nutrire” – nourish. No wonder Charles. W. Morgan wrote, “There is more decency on board when there is a woman.”
Nomi Dayan is the executive director of The Whaling Museum of Cold Spring Harbor. In honor of National Nurses Week, the museum is offering pay-as-you-wish admission for nurses (with current ID) and their families (up to 6 people) from May 7 to 12, as the museum recognizes the importance of nursing roles which whaling wives often took in the whaling industry.