Monday, March 21, 2005
I spent 10 hours Saturday working at the emergency room at the nearby hospital, as part of my training for my EMT class. Fortunately, it was a pretty slow day, with few serious patients coming in, so I didn't kill anybody... in fact three of the patients that day came in because of (gasp) cuts on their fingers. I mostly did vitals, and the most interesting thing that I did the whole day was to give an albuterol treatment to an elderly COPD patient with difficulty breathing. I think the hardest part of the day was not the work itself, but having to stand on my feet for 10 hours straight.
Despite all the standing around, I did learn something that I was never taught during lecture. A patient in his mid 20s came in complaining of severe back pain, claiming that he was supposed to be on pain killers prescribed by his doctor. Unfortunately, he lost his medicine bag, or they were stolen, so he wanted the ER doctors to give him more. When asked what he was on, he gave a long list of narcotic pain killers in very large doses. The nurse that gave him his initial assessment icily told him to go wait in the lobby to be called by a doctor, then told me that he was most likely a drug abuser. I saw the nurses whispering and snickering among themselves, and I'm not sure how they dealt with this patient, but I wouldn't be surprised if they made him wait in the lobby until he grew tired and went home.
One of the patients with a finger laceration was a three year old boy who had come in by ambulance, because of a half-inch cut on his thumb. By the time he arrived at the hospital the bleeding had long since stopped, and he seemed much more scared by the ambulance ride and being in a strange place, than by his cut. I asked the poor kid for his name as I took his brachial pulse, but all he could do was stare at me with wide open eyes. Another patient that came in with a cut finger was a flirtatious local college student who had hurt her thumb while doing dishes. When I informed her that I could not take her blood pressure through her jacket, she gave me a wink and told me that she couldn't take her jacket off with her injured hand, and that I would have to help her.
Dealing with such ridiculous patients for most of the day made my shift seem to last forever.
It seems to me that nurses have the most awful hours ever, working 10 hour shifts. The triage nurse that I tagged along with for part of the day confided to me that sometimes nurses will check themselves out of work, walk into the lobby of the ER, and check themselves back in as a patient. Apparently she herself had just had surgery for appendicitis, and the way these nurses work themselves it's not very surprising that they come down ill. I came home after my one day of work at the ER, made myself some instant noodles, and collapsed in bed before I could finish eating, I was so drained.
In any case, Saturday was an interesting way to start out my spring break. I have a to do list a mile long for this week, one of which is to clean this apartment out, since my housemates are now conveniently out of the way. On to that now.
Despite all the standing around, I did learn something that I was never taught during lecture. A patient in his mid 20s came in complaining of severe back pain, claiming that he was supposed to be on pain killers prescribed by his doctor. Unfortunately, he lost his medicine bag, or they were stolen, so he wanted the ER doctors to give him more. When asked what he was on, he gave a long list of narcotic pain killers in very large doses. The nurse that gave him his initial assessment icily told him to go wait in the lobby to be called by a doctor, then told me that he was most likely a drug abuser. I saw the nurses whispering and snickering among themselves, and I'm not sure how they dealt with this patient, but I wouldn't be surprised if they made him wait in the lobby until he grew tired and went home.
One of the patients with a finger laceration was a three year old boy who had come in by ambulance, because of a half-inch cut on his thumb. By the time he arrived at the hospital the bleeding had long since stopped, and he seemed much more scared by the ambulance ride and being in a strange place, than by his cut. I asked the poor kid for his name as I took his brachial pulse, but all he could do was stare at me with wide open eyes. Another patient that came in with a cut finger was a flirtatious local college student who had hurt her thumb while doing dishes. When I informed her that I could not take her blood pressure through her jacket, she gave me a wink and told me that she couldn't take her jacket off with her injured hand, and that I would have to help her.
Dealing with such ridiculous patients for most of the day made my shift seem to last forever.
It seems to me that nurses have the most awful hours ever, working 10 hour shifts. The triage nurse that I tagged along with for part of the day confided to me that sometimes nurses will check themselves out of work, walk into the lobby of the ER, and check themselves back in as a patient. Apparently she herself had just had surgery for appendicitis, and the way these nurses work themselves it's not very surprising that they come down ill. I came home after my one day of work at the ER, made myself some instant noodles, and collapsed in bed before I could finish eating, I was so drained.
In any case, Saturday was an interesting way to start out my spring break. I have a to do list a mile long for this week, one of which is to clean this apartment out, since my housemates are now conveniently out of the way. On to that now.
