Authors

  1. Hurst, Susan M. MSN, RN, CCRN, CNRN

Article Content

I was gently and covertly nudged by a friend of mine today while I was listening to a leader tell of her plan for strategic plan development. Knowingly, I looked at my friend, and I just could not help it. I felt it coming on, and although I knew it was wrong, I could not, even after calling upon all my stony willpower, stifle a giggle. It started slow, and as I willed my mind to think of the effect of the plan, how it would affect staff, blah, blah, blah, it happened again. My eyes met my friend's gaze and I was again holding against hope and my stomach from the awful chugs of a giggle.

 

Now, I know that we are all professionals who attend meetings, lead committees, and take everything we do so very seriously, because it is serious stuff. Somehow, though, I often feel as though I am in church in a cool pew with an older man standing behind me who suddenly makes an audacious snorting noise that sends me into waves of giggles. I am not saying that this happens often, only every blue moon, and after reflection, it seems to me to be a great moment of sanity and understanding.

 

I was once on a committee that lasted for more than 3 years, and each month, we talked and reviewed the same topics, realized that our progress was slow (if any), and that we would have to meet the following month and talk and review about how and why our progress was slow. What I hoped for in my mind was for someone in that meeting to jump up and say: "We aren't making progress. This isn't working!" Unfortunately, that never happened.

 

Somewhere halfway through those 3 long years, I was sitting behind one of my teammates who is blessed with a wonderful dry sense of humor. In the middle of the meeting, she slowly turned around, a slight knowing smile on her face, and, yes, it happened again. We both knew we were in for another hour of agonizing nitpicking and could not help ourselves. I looked down at my papers, fiddled with my pager, asked God for help in quiet, and tried all manners of mental distractions, yet none worked. I eventually left for the ladies room only to return after gathering myself and calming down my giggles.

 

I am not saying that I propose we all give in to these moments or favor a less serious approach or demeanor in meetings. I think, though, that these moments in time are lessons and the giggles are trying to tell us something. Whether that is we are on the wrong track with a process, our goals are misstated, or we are not doing what it is we should be doing is not important. Somehow, the submerged child within each of us is watching the serious-minded adults and that child is ready to come to our aid when we are off track[horizontal ellipsis]sometimes with laughter, sometimes acknowledging when we are ridiculous, wrong, or merely funny.

 

Thus, I have learned to listen to this little giggling voice and realize that the message could be helpful to whatever task is at hand. I like to surround myself with those who also have that giggling voice within their persona. It brings with it a clear voice and vision, practical and down to earth, and, if not admonished by those who take themselves much too seriously, can become a barometer for letting one know when things really are not right.

 

Susan M. Hurst, MSN, RN, CCRN, CNRN

 

Critical Care Clinical Nurse

 

Specialist and Staff Nurse Transplant

 

Banner Good Samaritan Medical Center

 

Phoeniz, AZ

 

[email protected]