12 hour shifts, 4 days in a row. Awake at 2 a.m. takes some getting used to. . .but at least I only have a 10 minute commute instead of the 2 hour commute of my recent past. 45 IVs started, one pneumothorax chest tap, one pretty dang impressive hemothorax. . .2 1/2 liters drained. I was assisting the doc, and we both watched in amazement at the solid red stream that filled the first, and then the second, and then the third evac bottle.
Had a stubborn a-fib that didn't answer to the cardizem, or the two doses of lopressor, so the doc told me to get ready for a cardiovert. Never done one of those before. . .but the doc said, "hey, why don't you do this one!" so I did. Twice. There was a tense 7 seconds of asystole after the first 50j, 7 seconds while we all held our breath, and at about 6 seconds, the doc and I looked at each other and he kind of cleared his throat and chewed his lip, and the relief in the room was palpable as the first q r s complex blipped across the screen, even though the rate was still at 150. We got him again at 120j, but the man's heart just wouldn't stop its atrial twitter.
Saw a six day old baby that was healthy as a horse. Mom was a bit. . .off. Was very concerned about some of the things baby was doing. Mom looked at me, lower lip quivering. "When she sleeps, her legs twitch." And a big fat tear rolled down her cheek. I was loathe to wake the baby with the rectal thermometer, but I sighed and lubed up the tip, and bit my tongue. I refrained from mentioning that Mom's legs probably twitched when she slept, too.
The usual junkies, migraines, NSO abdominal pains. Two aortic aneurysms in as many days. The patient who came in with a belly the size of a bowling ball from burst divurticuli was very pleasant, smiling and talking to us while we took her blood pressure. . .a couple of times, because the 55/20 measurement was somewhat difficult to believe. But no, it was right. Yikes. Three IVs, 3 L of NaCl, and Trendelenberg for you, ma'am. And she didn't even mess up her lipstick.
My favorite was the patient who showed up insisting she was the Holy Spirit. She kept addressing the numerous imaginary children in her belly and some person in the exam room only she could see. She called him Dad. It took a while to figure out she meant God. Kinda spooky. . .I have no doubt she was seeing and hearing something, but the only thing she had to say to any of us was, "gimme an IV!! My babies are thirsty and Dad says you have to!" And we were trying, but damn if her veins were filled with anything but holy water, because no matter how hard any of us tried, we couldn't get that dark red flash in the cath chamber.
Where the hell do these people come from?
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