No Fro Yo!
I was post call today. And unlike the previous two unusually glorious call nights I was up most of the night. At one point I was all in sterile attire (which consists of a funny puffy hat, mask with face sheild, and a sterile gown and gloves). It was almost 11pm and I was trying to get an umbilical artery catheter into a 3.5 kg 34 wk baby who was recently intubated and starting to crump a bit.
I tried, the other resident tried, then the attending tried. I f he couldn't do it then I felt a little better that I'd been unable too. We ended up getting a radial line and calling it good, but not after about 45 minutes of trying...and dying of heat stroke.
The nursery is warm to begin with. Then you're near the radiant warmer which is keeping the poor sick little one warm. Then you're in these plastic completely non-breathable clothes. Then you're anxious and nervous.
I could feel the sweat dripping down my chest. All I could think about was the frozen yogurt machine in the cafeteria that opened for the midnight snack. That and a cold shower. Or even snow.
Even Dr. E was soaked when we finally took the gown off. His entire scrub top was drenched. I guess I wasn't the only one.
I made sure all was temporarily well before I went down stairs to get everyone some of the fro yo. I am stragetizing on how to stack it as high as possible on my way down.
But I get in front of the machine and am examining the flavors trying to decide on the pure chocolate or the combo swirl. And I hear a voice, "It's broken." This can't be happening, "What?" "It's broken." Noooooooo! The hope of the cool treat was all that had gotten me through the last hour and now it was broken. I must have looked like I was about to cry. "I'm really sorry. I called the engineer. He'll be here in a little while." It will be too late. I won't have time later. And if I do I should really sleep while I can.
I survived. Maybe it was the hope of the fro yo rather than the actual stuff that got me through. I tend to look very much forward to things...but then I inevitably tend to be sometimes dissappointed. I'll survive the next time, too.
I tried, the other resident tried, then the attending tried. I f he couldn't do it then I felt a little better that I'd been unable too. We ended up getting a radial line and calling it good, but not after about 45 minutes of trying...and dying of heat stroke.
The nursery is warm to begin with. Then you're near the radiant warmer which is keeping the poor sick little one warm. Then you're in these plastic completely non-breathable clothes. Then you're anxious and nervous.
I could feel the sweat dripping down my chest. All I could think about was the frozen yogurt machine in the cafeteria that opened for the midnight snack. That and a cold shower. Or even snow.
Even Dr. E was soaked when we finally took the gown off. His entire scrub top was drenched. I guess I wasn't the only one.
I made sure all was temporarily well before I went down stairs to get everyone some of the fro yo. I am stragetizing on how to stack it as high as possible on my way down.
But I get in front of the machine and am examining the flavors trying to decide on the pure chocolate or the combo swirl. And I hear a voice, "It's broken." This can't be happening, "What?" "It's broken." Noooooooo! The hope of the cool treat was all that had gotten me through the last hour and now it was broken. I must have looked like I was about to cry. "I'm really sorry. I called the engineer. He'll be here in a little while." It will be too late. I won't have time later. And if I do I should really sleep while I can.
I survived. Maybe it was the hope of the fro yo rather than the actual stuff that got me through. I tend to look very much forward to things...but then I inevitably tend to be sometimes dissappointed. I'll survive the next time, too.
posted by S. at 10:53 PM
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