How a Needlestick Changed Me Forever

HIV and hepatitis. These two words haunted me for six months following a needle stick injury.

Many people do not realize how often nurses put themselves at risk while trying to save patients’ lives. People may think that because we are in a secure, safe location that we are not exposed to risks. This is far from the truth. Nurses put their lives at risk in several ways by exposing themselves to toxic medications or chemicals, infectious diseases, accidental injuries from needlesticks or patient handling, or even workplace violence.

As nurses, we are trained to be compassionate yet resilient. We are the forefront of patient care. Essentially, we are the mothers of healthcare.

Once upon a time, there was a shift I had at work where I was particularly anxious. I was in a new position and still in training. Everyone gets the new job jitters, so I tried not to think too much about it. I had fears running through my head at a million miles per hour. I would have thoughts like, “What if a patient codes? What if I experience a needle stick injury? What if someone falls on my watch? What if I can’t find any supplies and I fall extremely behind?” I tried to kick these thoughts out of my mind by staying focused and doing one thing at a time.

As the day went on, I noticed we ran out of our usual safety needles we had been using, and I couldn’t find any in the supply closet. Anyone who works in healthcare knows that time is of the essence. So, I decided to cut my search short and use backup needles that did not provide any sort of safety or protection post-injection. I kept telling myself it was going to be okay, that I just needed to focus. However, that rude little voice inside my head continued to instill fear in me, telling me that a needlestick injury could happen. Moments later, after administering medication to a patient, I felt what seemed like a lightning strike go through my body. I felt numb and I froze for a minute. Then, I ripped my glove off since I could not believe what just happened, and once I glanced down at my finger, I could see a droplet of blood.

Great. One of my biggest fears had come to life. My mind went blank. All I could think was that I needed a colleague to help me before I had a panic attack in front of my patient. The good news: my patient was completely unaffected.

I walked over to my colleague, and she took me to an empty room. My heart was pounding out of my chest and my vision was blurred from the tears streaming down my face. I was very thankful for my colleague at that moment because without her support, I would have spiraled. She quickly advised me to squeeze the finger and clean the site, because at that moment I had completely forgotten all protocol. My mind still felt blank. Afterwards, she guided me over to management to discuss next steps. I left work early to file a workers’ comp claim and immediately went to get lab work done.

Lucky me, the patient I was working on when I sustained the needlestick injury absolutely refused testing. He was the one patient on the unit who would never get his bloodwork done because he simply did not want to. And that is his right.

I felt like my life took a turn for the worst. I cried for months. The only thing I could do was wait for the HIV and hepatitis results, and in those moments, my enemy was time. At some point in those six months, I finally let go of my fears and worries and told myself that whatever happens, is meant to happen. I could not change the past, and the only thing I could do is be patient and know that whatever comes my way, I will tackle it.

While writing this, I realized my needlestick injury forever changed me — not just as a nurse, but as a person. I learned several lessons throughout this experience. One of my learnings is to advocate when things do not feel right or they feel unsafe. I knew before injecting the patient that I could have trouble with the needle since I was so used to using safety needles. I should have said something then or even asked a colleague to show me how to use the needle, even though it seemed self-explanatory. It is always okay to ask for help — especially in healthcare.

Another lesson I learned is that finding support in your colleagues is essential. People do not realize the things we experience as nurses, and it is very comforting when you have a friend who can relate to you.

The last lesson I learned was patience. Now, this is a tough one, but I believe this experience helped me truly believe that patience is a virtue. My life has changed since I channeled this in, and it has been one of the greatest lessons. Oddly enough, I am thankful for this needlestick injury.

The phrase “the experience is only forgettable if it never happens again” resonates deeply with me. According to the CDC, about 385,000 needlestick injuries happen annually. And if anyone is like me, this experience is seen in nightmares or flashbacks. So, it is never truly forgotten. It is hard to wrap my head around the fact that stories like mine happen hundreds of thousands of times per year. It breaks my heart to know that others have gone through this because it is such a traumatizing experience.

My needlestick injury was a pivotal moment in my nursing career. I constantly had thoughts of quitting and telling myself that I cannot continue to put myself at risk to care for others. I had to take a pause and take care of myself. That is when I realized that it is so vital for healthcare systems to help care for nurses, protect us, and give us the equipment we need to survive a shift. Nurses are resilient, but we need help and resources to sustain the resilience.

Luckily, the outcome of my needlestick injury was great. All my results were negative, and you better believe I had the celebration of a lifetime when those results came in.

All in all, I hope that my story is not “just another story,” but a story that helps change lives. A story that inspires and reassures nurses. A story that motivates healthcare companies to obtain equipment that is safe for nurses. And a story that reminds you that you are not alone.