By Mack Callahan
Every now and then a booking report comes across my desk that makes me stop and ask a simple question:
What the hell are we doing?
According to records from the Shawnee County Department of Corrections, 46-year-old Jennifer Tenielle Wheeler was booked June 10 on allegations of Battery Against a Healthcare Provider While on Duty and Assault.
Now, everyone is innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. That’s how the system works.
But let’s talk about the bigger issue for a minute.
When your life falls apart, who shows up?
When your kid can’t breathe. When your wife collapses. When your husband is having a heart attack. When your mother gets a cancer diagnosis. When your father takes his last breath.
There is usually one person standing right there beside you.
A nurse.
Not a politician. Not a Facebook expert. Not the guy screaming about healthcare in a comment section.
A nurse.
Years ago, I found myself sitting in a hospital room after a medical scare. I was angry. I was scared. I was convinced the world had somehow singled me out for punishment.
The doctor came in, delivered information, and moved on.
The nurse stayed.
The nurse checked on me. The nurse explained things I didn’t understand. The nurse noticed when I was struggling. The nurse made sure my family knew what was happening.
The nurse treated me like a human being when I probably wasn’t acting like one.
That’s what nurses do.
They walk into rooms filled with pain, fear, grief, bodily fluids, bad news, and sometimes death itself. Then they do it again. And again. And again.
Twelve-hour shifts. Holidays. Weekends. Birthdays. Overnight.
For people they’ve never met.
So when I see someone accused of putting hands on a healthcare worker, my patience gets real short.
Healthcare workers aren’t responsible for your diagnosis.
They aren’t responsible for your wait time.
They aren’t responsible for the disease, the injury, the addiction, the accident, or the bad luck that brought you through those hospital doors.
They’re trying to help.
In fact, healthcare workers are one of the few groups left in society who routinely run toward other people’s problems.
Think about that for a second.
While most of us spend our lives trying to avoid chaos, nurses volunteer to walk directly into it every single day.
And somehow we’ve reached a point where some people think it’s acceptable to scream at them, threaten them, spit on them, or allegedly hit them.
No.
Absolutely not.
There is a reason Kansas law takes allegations involving healthcare workers seriously.
Society depends on these people.
We already have staffing shortages. We already have burnout. We already have hospitals struggling to recruit and retain qualified nurses.
The last thing we need is healthcare workers wondering whether they’re going to get assaulted while trying to care for a patient.
Because here’s the reality:
One day, every one of us will need them.
Every one of us.
The toughest biker. The loudest tough guy. The richest businessman. The smartest lawyer. The politician. The journalist. The sheriff. The judge.
Sooner or later, all of us end up in a hospital bed looking up at somebody wearing blue scrubs.
And when that day comes, you’ll be praying they’re there.
So here’s today’s lesson from the Department of Common Sense:
If a nurse is trying to help you, keep your damn hands to yourself.
They’re not your enemy.
They’re probably the only person in the room actively trying to make your day better.
And that’s somebody worth protecting.
Mack Callahan is a columnist for ThisisTopeka.com. His opinions are his own and are often fueled by coffee, frustration, and an unwavering belief that people should leave healthcare workers alone.
