This is my last clinical rotation before graduation and it has
been a difficult year. My focus has been somewhat off for
a while, and I haven’t been as prepared as I should have
been for my clinical and classroom experiences. My clinical
instructor has been on my case for the last few weeks. I’m
also realizing that in no time at all I will be out of school
and on my own when it comes to patient care. So, all of a
sudden, I’m eager for as many clinical experiences as I can
get. To make a long story short, I’m thrilled when offered
the opportunity to catheterize Esther Bailey, a 72-year-old
female patient on my unit. I quickly review the procedure
and go to the patient’s room, with the catheterization sup-
plies in hand, feeling semi-confident. After introducing my
clinical instructor and myself and explaining what I’m about
to do, I open the sterile package, prepare the sterile field,
and cleanse the meatus. In one quick moment, as the
patient asks a question and diverts my instructor’s gaze,
I realize to my horror that I’ve contaminated the catheter.
I’ve got a split second to decide what to do. I can tell my
instructor what happened, obtain a new kit, and proceed
anew, or pretend nothing happened and continue. I don’t
like that I’m even considering not admitting the mistake,
after everything that has been drilled into us about the
importance of sterility and the consequences of nosoco-
mial infections. But I’m also prudent enough to realize that
it is time to leave the unit because the rest of the group is
waiting for postconference. Plus, after all, there are financial
costs to ordering another tray. But what if I do not admit the
error and by chance the instructor did see me contaminate
the catheter? Then my goose is really cooked!