Saturday, January 10, 2004
Irony.
Is spending the day sombrely auditing patient notes and trying not to think / fall asleep, and getting up for a cup of coffee an hour before the shift starts. Walking through resusc. en route, into pandemonium. Blood on the floor, CPR being applied. Trauma team, crash team, trauma nurses, outreach nurses milling about, amidst utter, utter chaos. You pause, and someone shouts for the atropine. A nurse waves the vial about hesitantly, nobody steps forward to give it. You grab the vial, and suddenly you're sucked in. Bicarb. Blood gas. Run the gas to ITU (trekking blood all over the floor). Back. Charging, 150, stand clear -- shocking. Adrenaline, please.
He eventually goes into asystole, and dies.
And the irony is this. Although we didn't ultimately make a difference, I am reminded that I do make a difference, in my own small way, in my daily life.
And that I should stop being so f*cking self-centred, and get on with life, and death.
Is spending the day sombrely auditing patient notes and trying not to think / fall asleep, and getting up for a cup of coffee an hour before the shift starts. Walking through resusc. en route, into pandemonium. Blood on the floor, CPR being applied. Trauma team, crash team, trauma nurses, outreach nurses milling about, amidst utter, utter chaos. You pause, and someone shouts for the atropine. A nurse waves the vial about hesitantly, nobody steps forward to give it. You grab the vial, and suddenly you're sucked in. Bicarb. Blood gas. Run the gas to ITU (trekking blood all over the floor). Back. Charging, 150, stand clear -- shocking. Adrenaline, please.
He eventually goes into asystole, and dies.
And the irony is this. Although we didn't ultimately make a difference, I am reminded that I do make a difference, in my own small way, in my daily life.
And that I should stop being so f*cking self-centred, and get on with life, and death.
