No more call shifts!!!!!!!
In thinking back to what I've done and seen over the past year, I know I've changed. My classmates don't see it, but we see eachother everyday, so they wouldn't notice it. Something inside has changed. I feel more capeable of handling tense situations and am more comfortable with relying on my abilities to take a patients history and doing physical exams to make diagnoses. But I've also become more cynical and non-shallant about pretty serious stuff.
For instance, on my second to last shift, I was doing a consult in emergency (on a little 19 day old girl with pyloric stenosis...i.e. projectile vomiting!) and I was writing it up when I noticed that the emerg docs rolled in a trauma patient. I looked up from my notes to see the trauma team doing their thing...controlled chaos. Putting in IV lines, assessing the patient's ABC's (airway, breathing, circulation), doing CPR. There was a man on top of the patient doing chest compressions while other people were trying to draw blood, intubating the patient, and getting the report from the paramedics. I went back to finishing my notes. After I was done, I looked over my shoulder just as the team pronounced the patients death and put a sheet over his head and rolled him away. I thought to myself "Hmmmm that's too bad." Normal people would react like: "Wholly shit a man just lost his life here...does anyone care?!??!?!?" Medical people aren't normal people. I don't want to become a person who is insensitive to things like that.
But then something happened last night on my call shift to change my thinking.
Since I am with Pediatrics, we are called to C-section births (as well as forceps and vacuum deliveries). I was paged at 11:30 at night for a C-section on a 26 week old fetus. Anyone can tell you that this is WAY too early (normal babies=term=40weeks). The limit of viability is 24weeks. In any case, the team was called to help the baby after it was born. The pediatrician I was on designated me to 'catch' the baby. The obstetrician who delivers the baby with give it to me to carry over to the incubator. So I am ready. Towel draped across the front of me, hands gloved, heart racing. "Don't drop the baby," I am thinking. The baby girl is born at 12:23am. All 620 grams of her (1.3lbs). Her whole hand was as big as my thumbnail and most of her body fit in one palm. And she tried to cry in her squacking sort of way! The pediatrician had to put a tube down her throat to help her breathe, but she is otherwise in pretty good shape, considering. She did well overnight. It'll be a long road ahead for her and her parents, but it amazes me that babies this small can survive. It made me appreciate the life of each and every patient I come across and made me think that I have to work to keep this in mind.
On a funny note: As the doctor was securing some equipment with sutures, he didn't want to open up another package of sutures "We'll try to save money on sutures," he said. I thought that was funny becausese it costs THOUSANDS of dollars to keep these tiny patients in the NICU every day...what difference will a couple-a-bucks do????
