The Weight of the Stethoscope: Micro Stories and Reflections from a Nurses Journey

By Elizabeth Ann Ison RN

A heartfelt collection of nursing stories that blend real-life experiences with powerful reflections, capturing the emotional and ethical challenges faced daily. Each tale inspires resilience and highlights the strength and humanity inherent in the nursing profession.

In The Weight of the Stethoscope, readers are

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Aug 19, 2025
• ISBN: 9798318802621

Elizabeth Ann Ison RN

Elizabeth Ann Ison grew up on a Derbyshire farm in the UK as the eldest of five, where caring for animals and people was integral to her life. She earned her Diploma in Nursing in 2001 and completed her Bachelor's degree in 2013. Her nursing career spans over 20 years across various practices, grounded in her belief that nursing is a calling. After a nursing assignment in Canada, she met her husband and moved to the USA in 2010. In her book, The Weight of the Stethoscope, Elizabeth shares her journey and honors the patients and nurses who shaped her life.

Book preview

PREFACE

More than twenty years of nursing have helped shape me into the person I am today in ways I never could have imagined. Sometimes, it feels like I’ve lived a dozen lives within this one career. Each chapter is written in the language of compassion, chaos, resilience, respect, and reflection.

Florence Nightingale was more than a Lady with the Lamp. She was a visionary who redefined nursing as a respected, evidence-based profession.

What inspired me the most about her was her relentless commitment to serving, leading, and challenging what was expected of her. When she walked the halls of a war hospital, she lit the way for all of us who followed and continued in her footsteps.

My story didn’t start in a bustling hospital or a fast-paced emergency department. It started in a nursing home surrounded by older adults. It was there I developed a love for taking care of people.

I was a young caregiver learning how to clean wounds, reposition fragile bodies, and, more importantly, listen to them. I didn’t realize it at the time, but those long shifts spent helping someone eat, holding trembling hands, and sitting at the bedside during someone’s final hours lit a fire in me. That’s where the passion began, not just for nursing but for human connection.

Since then, I’ve walked countless hallways from emergency rooms to leadership offices, from orthopedic floors to sexual health clinics. I’ve been a case manager, a mentor, and a sounding board. I’ve seen lives change in an instant, and I’ve learned that healing doesn’t always mean curing.

I’ve practiced as a nurse in three different countries: England, Canada, and the United States of America. Each has its healthcare vision, shaped by policies, priorities, and culture. The perception of nurses, the patient experience, and the structure of care all vary. None is perfect, but each system holds its lessons. Some offer better access, others greater autonomy. Yet through them all, one truth remains: the heart of nursing transcends borders.

This book is a reflection, drawing out key learnings and examples that will be most valuable to others on their nursing journey. It is filled with the moments that shaped me, the lessons that humbled me, and the people—patients and peers alike—who left their mark on my heart. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s really like behind the scrubs, this is for you.

As a nurse, I quickly learned that confidentiality is essential for protecting patients. For this reason, all names and identifying details have been changed or omitted to safeguard the privacy of both patients and colleagues.

CHAPTER 1

Becoming

N

ursing school is a huge undertaking. It’s an intense accumulation of coursework, clinical practice experiences, and endless exams. It’s about learning to read people, but more importantly, it’s about learning yourself.

Increasing your own self-awareness is one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself as a nurse. It’s not always easy; it means taking an honest look at your strengths, weaknesses, emotions, and biases. The more you build it, the more confident, compassionate, and assertive you become as a nurse and a person. This knowledge serves as the foundation for making informed decisions, inspiring those around you, and becoming the best version of yourself—both inside and outside of nursing.

Reflection is at the heart of nursing. It’s woven into everything we do. Like a baby taking its first breath, it becomes second nature. You reflect without even realizing it. After a shift. In the middle of a procedure. In the quiet moments walking home.

However, the truth is that not every nurse enters the profession fully equipped. You don’t always arrive knowing how to do the right thing at the right time. Some of it is taught, some of it is learned, and some of it—maybe the most important part—is just in you. Something you’re born with.

This chapter offers an honest portrayal of some of the experiences I encountered during my nurse training, including the hard lessons and the challenges that forced me to grow, as well as the people who left a lasting impact on who I am, even when I didn’t realize it at the time.

What I didn’t know then was that every challenge was building the foundation for the nurse and the person I was destined to be.

The First Day

That first day of nursing school is a proud moment. You walk into the classroom, nerves buzzing, surrounded by strangers. You don’t know what to expect. Are these people your competition? Will you be fighting for placements, for grades, for recognition? Maybe.

But more than likely, they’ll become your comrades.

You’ll grow alongside them. Learn from them. Teach each other lessons, not just about nursing, but about life. You’ll see what it looks like to be a good nurse, and yes, sometimes what it looks like to be a not-so-good one. You’ll watch how others carry themselves in clinical practice, how they handle pressure, and how they speak to patients, and you’ll begin to piece together who you want to be.

You’ll pick up traits that inspire you. And you’ll notice ones that don’t.

That’s why instinct matters. Trust it. It will speak up when you need it most—when you’re unsure, when something doesn’t feel right, when no one else is speaking but your gut is shouting. That instinct is there for a reason. Listen to it.

But more than anything, stand together.

Reflection

Nursing isn’t a solo act. The nursing team consists of licensed practical nurses (LPNs), nursing assistants, nurse educators, unit secretaries, and essential support staff who collaborate to deliver safe and efficient care.

Nursing is a calling that demands strength, not just from you, but from the team around you. Long shifts. Emotional cases. Exhaustion. Grief. There’s also laughter, pride, and the kind of joy that only comes from helping another human being.

The people beside you, the ones who scrub in with you, eat lunch with you, and cry with you, will also be the ones who carry you through. It is a cycle of care and compassion that passes from one hand to another, and one day, you’ll carry someone else.

Strive to be the nurse others turn to at the end of a hard shift—the one who listens, lifts, and encourages. Become the nurse patients remember—the one who makes them feel seen, safe, and valued. Only you can do that. And I know you will.

More than Skin Deep

I didn’t know what to expect. When they told me I could shadow any specialty for a day during nursing school, I thought about picking something flashy—the Emergency Department (ED), the Intensive Care Unit (ICU), or the Medical Unit. Something in me paused when I saw the option for Wound, Ostomy, and Continence nursing (WOC). I didn’t even fully know what that meant at the time. I hadn’t experienced it yet, and maybe I should learn something different.

That’s how I ended up in the passenger seat of a car with Lisa, a WOC nurse who carried scissors in her bag as a symbol of her craft. She was confident, calm, and had a way of treating every patient like an old friend, even on their first visit.

Lisa explained what a WOC nurse’s day looks like: assessing, treating, and managing surgical wounds; educating patients and staff on wound care and infection prevention; and monitoring healing. We went house to house, walking into lives that felt paused in the middle of struggle—colostomies, ileostomies, (large and small bowel surgeries), surgical sites that wouldn’t heal, beds that smelled like antiseptic, and quiet frustration. But Lisa wasn’t there just to fix. She asked how their grandkids were.

She remembered what kind of soup they liked. She made eye contact while she worked, and she never rushed.

I watched her cut an ostomy wafer (an adhesive skin barrier) like she was tailoring a dress, precise and intentional. She explained everything to me and to the patient, never assuming we already knew.

At one point, we visited a man I will name Mr. K.

He was in his early 70s, and I guessed by the way he walked back to his chair, his squared shoulders, clean-cut hair, and purposeful walk that he may have been a military man in the past. He then sat on the edge of his bed, hands tightly folded in his lap with an oversized t-shirt hanging over his body. The room smelled like poop and medical supplies, and I could see the brown stain still wet on his t-shirt. He didn’t say much at first. His colostomy bag had leaked just before we had arrived, and he had not changed the ostomy bag yet. I could see the shame in his eyes before a word left his mouth.

Lisa didn’t flinch.

She walked in like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Not because she didn’t care, but because she knew the most important thing in that moment was helping him hold onto his dignity.

She knelt next to him—not above him—because she wanted him to feel respected. and it was less intimidating for the patient, she explained to me later in the car.

Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? I brought the good adhesive this time, Lisa stated, displaying the small white adhesive bottle to Mr. K like it was a bottle of champagne at a restaurant. He smiled as she lifted his t-shirt.

By the time we left, he was laughing at one of Lisa’s jokes about hospital food, and I could see a shift in his shoulders. They were a little less tense. Like someone had finally treated him like a person again.

Reflection

That day didn’t have the adrenaline of an emergency