(no subject)
So some people have inquired as to why I refused to go down to the ER today, others have wanted to know why I was in such a foul mood last night. I still stand by my initial comment that the ER is nothing but a pit of voles. Vicious, unrelenting, illogical little malcontents who derive an unholy amount of pleasure from making my life hell when I am merely trying to be a team player.
Here’s what happened, as far as I recall at any rate. My lovely new wife finished her shift by threatening me with bodily harm if I didn’t accept one of her patients into my service on the surgical floor. Fine. Happy to oblige her…and keep from needing her services as an ER doc. While I was down in the ER, hoping to get out of there as well, Kovac mentioned that there were no attendings for the day shift. He needed to get home, Weaver couldn’t stay, and I, being the total idiot that I apparently am, volunteered to stay for a few minutes. A few MINUTES. Luckily Abigail and I came in separate cars.
Well, besides the utter insanity of trying to supervise the likes of Pratt, Morris and Barnett, I had the med student from hell…Penny? To contend with. She makes Morris look intelligent. Trying to teach her about treating sepsis and to put in a central line was about as productive as banging my head against the wall. Oh wait, I had a patient who did that too. Migraine sufferer. And an indigent person who ATE a human digit then regurgitated it…
As Sam so kindly pointed out, I also had two nurses dogging my every move. The Twin Terrors kept my head spinning with orders, questions, questioning my answers…Magenta Menaces. Did they plan to dress that way? I digress…between Sam and Inez I wanted to suture their mouths shut for five minutes of peace and quiet.
Then there was the Venemas. Mrs. Venema came in as a patient, three years in a vegetative state, she had sepsis. Grim outlook. Pratt wanted to treat her conservatively, I wanted to give her the best care possible. And then her husband showed up and I spent some time talking to him. Turns out they were on a vacation in Italy three years ago when she suffered an aneurysm and subsequent brain bleed. They’d been together since 1947. Had one son they lost in Vietnam. This woman was the love of his life and he wasn’t ready to let her go. Fifty-two years of marriage…the loves and losses they shared along the way and now, now he still stands by her side even though he knows she’ll never recover.
I know that there are times when a patient hits us all, as doctors, the one that you can’t shake. That you continue to think about all shift, after a shift. For days and weeks later, sometimes you never forget them. Well, last night it wasn’t the patient that struck a chord with me, it was her husband. I know what it’s like to spend half a lifetime with someone and lose them. What it means to lose your only child with that person. To say that I empathized with Mr. Venema is an understatement of grand proportions.
I argued with Pratt, even Sam over the woman’s treatment, locked horns with our ICU and eventually called a colleague at St. Rafe’s and transferred the patient there…were she’ll likely spend the lsat few days of her life. Mr. Venema was grateful. He…hugged me and told me I was a good doctor, a good man. To say he surprised me is putting it lightly and I think I babbled something about paper work in response.
He, not I, is the good man in this scenario. He fought for his wife, was willing to give up everything he has for a few more days with a woman that won’t even open her eyes and look at him. I only did what I could to enable him to do that.
And Dr. Clemente never did show up.
Here’s what happened, as far as I recall at any rate. My lovely new wife finished her shift by threatening me with bodily harm if I didn’t accept one of her patients into my service on the surgical floor. Fine. Happy to oblige her…and keep from needing her services as an ER doc. While I was down in the ER, hoping to get out of there as well, Kovac mentioned that there were no attendings for the day shift. He needed to get home, Weaver couldn’t stay, and I, being the total idiot that I apparently am, volunteered to stay for a few minutes. A few MINUTES. Luckily Abigail and I came in separate cars.
Well, besides the utter insanity of trying to supervise the likes of Pratt, Morris and Barnett, I had the med student from hell…Penny? To contend with. She makes Morris look intelligent. Trying to teach her about treating sepsis and to put in a central line was about as productive as banging my head against the wall. Oh wait, I had a patient who did that too. Migraine sufferer. And an indigent person who ATE a human digit then regurgitated it…
As Sam so kindly pointed out, I also had two nurses dogging my every move. The Twin Terrors kept my head spinning with orders, questions, questioning my answers…Magenta Menaces. Did they plan to dress that way? I digress…between Sam and Inez I wanted to suture their mouths shut for five minutes of peace and quiet.
Then there was the Venemas. Mrs. Venema came in as a patient, three years in a vegetative state, she had sepsis. Grim outlook. Pratt wanted to treat her conservatively, I wanted to give her the best care possible. And then her husband showed up and I spent some time talking to him. Turns out they were on a vacation in Italy three years ago when she suffered an aneurysm and subsequent brain bleed. They’d been together since 1947. Had one son they lost in Vietnam. This woman was the love of his life and he wasn’t ready to let her go. Fifty-two years of marriage…the loves and losses they shared along the way and now, now he still stands by her side even though he knows she’ll never recover.
I know that there are times when a patient hits us all, as doctors, the one that you can’t shake. That you continue to think about all shift, after a shift. For days and weeks later, sometimes you never forget them. Well, last night it wasn’t the patient that struck a chord with me, it was her husband. I know what it’s like to spend half a lifetime with someone and lose them. What it means to lose your only child with that person. To say that I empathized with Mr. Venema is an understatement of grand proportions.
I argued with Pratt, even Sam over the woman’s treatment, locked horns with our ICU and eventually called a colleague at St. Rafe’s and transferred the patient there…were she’ll likely spend the lsat few days of her life. Mr. Venema was grateful. He…hugged me and told me I was a good doctor, a good man. To say he surprised me is putting it lightly and I think I babbled something about paper work in response.
He, not I, is the good man in this scenario. He fought for his wife, was willing to give up everything he has for a few more days with a woman that won’t even open her eyes and look at him. I only did what I could to enable him to do that.
And Dr. Clemente never did show up.