I've come to the logical conclusions that like all of us, we have our good and bad days. I suppose that the environment of a job is much like a person--ups and downs on a frequent (or infrequent) basis. Today, it was as if the ER had a personality change from how it was last week. I often get a bit tachycardic entering the department because I have no idea what lies before me--happy staff? Angry staff? Shouldn't be so unpredictable, but life is, so really why would I expect the ER to be any different....we all have our bipolar days.
Unfortunately, not much happened today in the way of patients. Kind of a non dramatic, non trauma day. The theme for the first portion of the day was: Car Accidents. Everyone kept coming in after crashing or being hit in to. Little kids, pregnant women, men....take your pick.
One man had been having a lot of stress lately but went to work, only to discover that he was feeling even more anxious and having strange sensations in his chest. His boss granted him permission to go to the ER but shortly on his way, he discovered that he was feeling confused and even worse than before. He then calls his boss who instructs him to come back to his job and someone there will take him to the ER. It was at that time that he passed out and crashed into a light pole in front of the Police and many bystanders.
His chest pain had only increased upon his arrival to the ER and after receiving the preliminary care one receives when experiencing chest pain, a nurse handed me a pair of Trauma sheers and instructed me to cut off his clothing. I learned that it's a lot harder than it looks---as I'm busily trying to cut off his two shirts, the thought struck me that there should be a class on how to properly remove clothing from a patient in pain. I know for one that'd I benefit greatly because I spent half my time struggling with the dang scissors and the other half methodically tearing his shirt apart. Then came the part of removing his pants while keeping his boxers on. Again, not an easy task. Comical, really--if you want to put a word onto it. Little innocent Sarah stripping a man (almost) naked. Oh, awkward.
My next favorite patient whom I only got to see for a short quantity of time was this 90 year old cute as a button lady. I believe she weighed somewhere in the 66 pound range (I'm not exaggerating) and had the strangest voice I've ever heard: Try talking in your most high pitch voice that you can attain. Then take that voice and bump it up to or three levels, and even still--you'll be far off from what her voice sounded like. It was so high pitched that for the life of me I had no idea what she was saying, so I looked like an idiot nodding my head and smiling at her as I helped transport her to another ward of the hospital.
So when the ER is having a good day, and I once more have the feeling that I'm not an outsider trying desperately to fit in, I'm quite at ease and happier than one can fathom. Below is how I've often felt when all is right in the Emergency Department:
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