You may have heard of the “slow food” movement, which started in Italy in reaction to the pervasiveness of fast-food chains. “Slow food” may evoke images of simmering crock pots, but it is actually more about families and friends sharing a leisurely meal, as well as how our food is grown and distributed.
“Slow medicine” also has its roots in Italy, but Dennis McCullough, MD, has continued to develop the concept based on his work with geriatric populations. He posits that although “fast medicine” has its place in emergencies and curative procedures, too much intervention, such as overly aggressive treatment of chronic illness, can result in unnecessary hospitalization and decreased quality of life, particularly for fragile elders. “Slow medicine” includes concepts such as “active bedside listening” and “responsible observation vs. premature intervention,” among many others.
A physician friend brought the concept to my attention and asked if I thought nurses might be interested. The vision of a “slow nursing” movement quickly took hypothetical form. But then I realized nursing was already about “slow.”
The “slow” flavor of nursing comes through in this definition from the Royal College of Nursing: “[Nursing is] the use of clinical judgment in the provision of care to enable people to improve, maintain, or recover health, to cope with health problems, and to achieve the best possible quality of life, whatever their disease or disability, until death.”
So why are nurses feeling stressed, like they’re on a never-ending roller coaster or a bullet train to nowhere? As a fledgling nurse practitioner, I learned that an NP was judged more on how many patients she could “whip through” in an hour than by her competence and caring. And often nurses’ No. 1 complaint is they do not have enough time to spend with patients.
All of the “slow” movements are retro by nature, harkening back to a slower, more caring way of life — and no doubt nursing was slower when we did not practice in a regulated, economically stretched era. Although I think nurses can learn a great deal from “slow medicine,” I maintain that nursing is at its heart a “slow” discipline. Nursing has been shoved over into the fast lane, but I do not think there is a need for the redundant moniker “slow nursing.”
What do you think? Please visit my blog to comment. You can also learn more about “slow medicine” and read my review of Dennis McCullough’s book, My Mother, Your Mother: Embracing “Slow Medicine,” the Compassionate Approach to Caring for Your Aging Loved Ones.
“Slow medicine” also has its roots in Italy, but Dennis McCullough, MD, has continued to develop the concept based on his work with geriatric populations. He posits that although “fast medicine” has its place in emergencies and curative procedures, too much intervention, such as overly aggressive treatment of chronic illness, can result in unnecessary hospitalization and decreased quality of life, particularly for fragile elders. “Slow medicine” includes concepts such as “active bedside listening” and “responsible observation vs. premature intervention,” among many others.
A physician friend brought the concept to my attention and asked if I thought nurses might be interested. The vision of a “slow nursing” movement quickly took hypothetical form. But then I realized nursing was already about “slow.”
The “slow” flavor of nursing comes through in this definition from the Royal College of Nursing: “[Nursing is] the use of clinical judgment in the provision of care to enable people to improve, maintain, or recover health, to cope with health problems, and to achieve the best possible quality of life, whatever their disease or disability, until death.”
So why are nurses feeling stressed, like they’re on a never-ending roller coaster or a bullet train to nowhere? As a fledgling nurse practitioner, I learned that an NP was judged more on how many patients she could “whip through” in an hour than by her competence and caring. And often nurses’ No. 1 complaint is they do not have enough time to spend with patients.
All of the “slow” movements are retro by nature, harkening back to a slower, more caring way of life — and no doubt nursing was slower when we did not practice in a regulated, economically stretched era. Although I think nurses can learn a great deal from “slow medicine,” I maintain that nursing is at its heart a “slow” discipline. Nursing has been shoved over into the fast lane, but I do not think there is a need for the redundant moniker “slow nursing.”
What do you think? Please visit my blog to comment. You can also learn more about “slow medicine” and read my review of Dennis McCullough’s book, My Mother, Your Mother: Embracing “Slow Medicine,” the Compassionate Approach to Caring for Your Aging Loved Ones.
Laura Goldbaum, RN, MS, NP, is the editorial director of NurseWeek’s California and Mountain West editions. To comment, e-mail lgoldbaum@gannetthg.com.


