I'll see you in the ICU!

Today was an odd day.

I'd like to say it was a good day; it was--for me; but a patient died on my unit, so I am hesitant to call it "good day" overall. No wars ended, no cure for any disease was found.

But, if we are to carry out this philosphy, there is some tragedy happening somewhere around the world, at any given time; does this mean there are never to be any days described as good days?

I suppose I tend to wax philisophical in the face of death.

Let me start over.

Today, my preceptor was in a good mood. She assigned me one of her two patients and gave me access to the pixis drug dispenser, and webcis, for charting. For twelve hours, I had everything to do--give meds, answer his call bell, charting, drawing labs, inserted a foley (much to his horror) and provided all the standard nursing interventions which make up a day of care in the CCU.

I loved it.
The day went so fast, and I learned a ton. My preceptor and I got along like friends--she touched my arm when talking to me...this must mean she approved of me today. Either that, or she had taken her medications.

When she told me she wouldn't be around tomorrow, I said "neither am I, It's my birthday." Unknown to me she collected money from everyone and bought a cake for me.

We even shared lunch! Suzie, the ICU tech frequently cooks and brings in food to share with everyone--it's very Philipino to pot luck and share food in a communal fashion; it's kinda nice. So she made a big pot of white rice and some mung beans that were really good (some acorn squash, spinach or similar greens, pork, and a hint of some type of pepper...it had some kick) and my preceptor kept urging me to eat.

Afterwhich, someone showed up with the cake, and they sang happy birthday to me. I was touched.


Even if they didn't get my name right :) (that's Philipino and Spanish for "Lis")

And then, I was touched to see a message on the assignment board someone had written.


I didn't cut the cake right away, because of what happened in my community placement. I was afraid that there was some weird ritual of cake cutting that I didn't know about, or that 45 people would have to get a slice because they chipped in. No such--these guys are normal. So someone later said to me "go cut your cake!" and when I walked into the lounge, someone said "hey, cut that already so I can have a piece!" So I did.

As I sat and ate a bit of it, someone walked in and said that the lady next door was in full code. I put my cake down and went over to see if I could help.

She came back, for about 20 minutes, but then went into full arrest again, and this time, they couldn't revive her. So with the taste of my birthday cake still on my lips, she died in front of me. Her family showed up within the hour and I was very sad to see them. I wish they could have been there. I guess dying in an ICU isn't like dying in another place, where you can go peacefully--there is no way to have the family there watching all the crap that goes on.

It was much calmer than I thought it would be...none of that shit you see on ER or any other television show where they're all screaming at each other and the paddles are brought out, someone screams out "CLEAR!" or "GIMME TEN CCs OF BLAH-BLAH..STAT!!" That's just bullshit for tv drama. Or maybe it's just that these folks are not healthy people with so much to lose. They're already one foot in the grave, many of them waiting for someone somewhere to die and donate a good heart so they can go on living.

It was all about anesthesia getting her an advanced airway, (yep, just like the ACLS guys were saying...bagging way too fast, once every second or so) they gave her compressions every now and then, some epi, some atropine, a little bicarb, and then it was over. No one raised their voice, no one broke a sweat--business as usual at the CCU.

Blow out the candles and make a wish, Lis; the lady next door is dying.

Ah, life is like that sometimes.

posted by sketchmonkey @ 4:54 PM