The inception of SNMF came after a tragic event in
Illinois in Spring 2017. An inmate, Tywon Salters,
was in the custody of Shawn Loomis, a corrections
officer. Loomis reportedly fell asleep while Salters
was unshackled. Salters retrieved the officer’s gun
and immediately took nurse JD1 (Jane Doe One)
hostage. He demanded her clothes and car keys.
She complied. He planned to hold her as a shield to
reach her car. Another nurse, JD2 (Jane Doe Two)
intervened. Salters freed JD1, then took JD2 to a
decontamination room where he proceeded to rape,
beat, and torture her for hours (Sarkauskas, 2017;
interview, undisclosed source, July, 2017).
During this event, on May 13, 2017, a news story
flashed across social media: hostage taken at Delnor
Community Hospital. A few moments later, a second
story stated the situation had ended without injuries.
Limited information was released to the public until
May 25 when the nurses filed a lawsuit describing the
horrors of that day. After JD2 was beaten, raped,
and tortured for more than three hours, SWAT made
the painful decision to shoot the prisoner. To do that
successfully, the bullet had to travel through the
nurse.
Workplace violence is not something with which the
bedside nurse is unfamiliar. In fact, statistics con-
sistently indicate more nonlethal assaults occur in
healthcare than in any other industry (OSHA, 2015).
Understand this: we are nonlethally assaulted more
often than all industries combined, even more than
law enforcement. The Centers for Disease Control
(CDC), referencing BLS, reports 70% of nonfatal
workplace violence requiring days away from work
took place in healthcare in 2016. Of those, 21%
required more than a month away from work to
recover (CDC, 2018). SNMF has received multiple
reports from those who have become totally disabled
as a result of their assaults. One report came from a
woman who asked for help because a traumatic brain
injury left her unable to work and, for a brief period,
homeless (personal interviews, Tanya Cabell, Octo-
ber, 2017).
More is at risk from workplace violence than finan-
cial loss. The physical and emotional effects can be
so pervasive that they interfere with your health and
well-being at work and home. Acute stress disorder
begins with the initial assault or vicarious trauma.
Violence is a
problem we must
understand and end.
It is not
part of the job.
With repeated exposures to stimuli or triggers, this
can become classified as post traumatic stress disor-
der (PTSD) if symptoms remain six months post-
assault. Vicarious trauma (the trauma of another
person close to you, whether emotionally or physical-
ly) can produce the same effects, meaning witnessing
an assault can also impact well-being.
In a study that measured neurobiological effects of
workplace violence, one participant stated, “there’s
the short-term thing of being kicked or you’ve been
scratched or punched ... but [trauma responses] are
cumulative, so people do leave the industry” (Beattie,
Innes, Griffiths, Morphet, 2018, p. 46). Other noted
outcomes in this study include burnout, disengage-
ment, nurses leaving their careers, increased usage
of paid time off, increase in staff negativity, intoler-
ance, and avoidance. The damage from workplace
violence can be devastating.
In January 2018, the American Hospitals Associa-
tion (AHA) estimated the financial cost of workplace
violence in 2016 to be $2.7 billion (AHA, 2018).
This cost includes $852 million in unreimbursed
medical care, $429 million in medical costs, staffing,
indemnity, and other costs, $1.1 billion in security
and training, and $280 million in preparedness and
prevention. AHA’s Website does not clarify whether
these costs include those associated with staff turn-
over or disability. While the total cost of prevention
and response ($1.38 billion) is similar to the cost of
response ($1.28 billion), research on evidence-based
methods of prevention and responses are lacking.
In consideration of the cost to victims, this type of
research should be a high priority.
Issue 73, 2 2018 Pennsylvania Nurse 11