space like a shark. The nurse who was pulling the meds left the room
for a minute, but she'd left herself logged into the dispensing machine. I
watched as the second nurse moved in to steal drugs. I confronted her
with the same 2 options I'd been given long before, but what moved me
most was her reaction: a hug and a deep-felt thank you. For her, the lies
and nightmarish spiral were finally over. As tough as the consequences
might be, she was no longer alone in need of help. Like me, she would
be reported and face potential career and legal consequences, but she
no longer had a secret to harbor, one that took up an unmanageable
space in her life the way it did in mine. This kind of response, this relief,
is not uncommon. Some say recovery is like opening the gates of heav-
en to let you in, but to me, it's like opening the gates of hell and letting
yourself out. The lying makes you lonely, and this kind of lie touches
every part of your life. It can even kill you. If you approach someone on
your staff with the facts, remaining calm and straightforward, you're not
just helping your facility and patients. You're liberating someone. And
you're treating the problem directly, the way it needs to be treated.
OSM
D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 7 • O U T PA T I E N TS U R G E R Y. N E T • 5 1
