Pinning Speech (or, All I Really Need to Know, I Learned in Nursing School)

Remember my Sally Fields moment? Well here is the bulk of the text of my planned pinning ceremony speech. I'd love to hear what you all think. (Unless you think it sucks, in which case don't tell me it sucks, just tell me I might consider going back to the drawing board...). My pinning ceremony is the morning of December 16, just a week away. Graduation is that night.


As we draw close to the end of nursing school I find myself looking back over our time here. Now granted we’ve all lived from test to test, from memorizing each drug to the next, and from one disease to yet another pathology. Nursing school is clearly about taking care of patients and helping people get better, or not get better with dignity. But somehow I can’t shake the feeling that nursing school is about so much more than that. If we boil it down to the very simplest terms, some sort of academic red wine reduction sauce, nursing school is about, well, life.

Now that thought immediately brought to my mind the famous poem by Robert Fulghum, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”, which is of course, pure genius. I rather like the view from the shoulders of giants, so I give you, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Nursing School.”

1. A bath and a tidy bed will make anyone feel better. I’ve seen it time and again, simply straightening a patient’s bed invariably elicits the comment from a family member, “Oh, they look so much better today.” This isn’t any less true in the rest of life. Stressed out? Overwhelmed? So much to do that you just don’t know where to even begin? Make your bed. Bad day? Overworked? Stretched to your absolute breaking point? Take a bath. You’ll feel better on both accounts, I guarantee it.

2. There are few things better in life than a good nap, a good meal, and a good poop. As nurses, if our patients are eating, sleeping, and pooping, their prognosis is pretty good. In the larger picture, when we came into this life, eating, sleeping, and pooping were first three things we did, and I’m pretty sure we got it right.

3. Speaking of poop…it happens. Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away. Or smell better. It’s best to simply clean it up and move on. Remember, very few people aren’t completely mortified when their own poop comes to light—always, always do your best preserve their dignity. Apply that to the poopy things that come your way in life, and it still rings true.

4. Always keep careful track of what goes in, and what comes out. Balance is a good thing. We all had I&Os for our patients drilled into our heads in class and clinicals, but this applies to so many things: bank accounts, raising kids, our minds and our mouths. Think about it. Don’t spend more than you have. Fill your children with the good things in life and you’ll never worry about what will become of them. Fill your own minds with truth and knowledge, and the words that you speak will never embarrass you.

5. Assess the patient, not the monitor. How many of us have gone sprinting into a patient room because the monitor was showing a lethal rhythm or an ugly 02 sat, only to discover the patient sitting up and laughing in bed? In real life, people may have impressive resumes—a litany of accomplishments and achievements, but that should never substitute for your own assessment of their character. Listen to your gut, it’s almost always right.

6. Details matter. Write things down. Time and again I hear people say how much it’s the little things that make a difference. Remembering the small things will make you a hero to most people. Keep a journal, and occasionally read over it. A little self-clarity can never be a bad thing. Every major change begins with one tiny detail that’s altered.

7. You don’t always have to wear gloves when you touch people. We talked about this in class—that human touch means so much to patients. We’ve learned the value of therapeutic touch, but again, this applies to even more so to real life. When we open ourselves up to people, we truly begin to experience the beauty of human relationships. When we leave our protective barriers behind and take off our gloves, we are truly able to receive—and give—love.

8. Sometimes it’s just time to let go. Who hasn’t taken care of a patient who we all know will never get better. The patient suffers, and the end result is the same. In life how many times do we go down the same road, making the same decisions, expecting a different result? Sometimes it’s just time to let go.

9. Always ask for help when you need it. As we transition from nursing school to real life practice, most of us will feel like we have so much to learn yet. Something I’ve learned in my short years on this earth is this: When we get right down to it, people love to help each other. Helping one another makes us feel good. Allowing someone to help is often just as beneficial for the helper. Again this goes back to allowing ourselves to be vulnerable, and admitting that maybe we could make it on our own, but it would be so much easier if we just allow someone to help us.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them. I know that in clinical at some point during nursing school we’ve been party to a patient dying unexpectedly. Gone before their time, or passing on before family can make it to the bedside. As nurses we have the privilege of being present for births, and for deaths, and nearly every kind of moment in between. We should take the lessons we learn from our experiences with others lives. Be sure that you tell the people you love that you love them.

And so here we stand at the close of one journey, and on the verge of another. Through the years, each of the 4 semesters, the 6 am clinicals, the exams, the OSCE’s, Assignments 1, 2, and 3, we’ve grown together to be a family. Oh sure, we each have some of us that we can’t hardly stand to be around, but we are family nonetheless. I want to thank each of you for the privilege of making this journey with you.

Well done Class of December 2010, and best of luck with the future.