We were called to pick up one of our regular dialysis patients from treatment and bring him back to his nursing home. After moving him to his bed, I turned to leave the room and noticed a bulletin board full of pictures. Most appeared to be of his children and grandchildren, but one caught my attention. I looked at it closely, then turned my head to look at the patient lying in bed.
Yup, it was him. Standing on a boat with his granddaughter. Smiling, happy, in seemingly perfect health.
I looked back again at the patient, lying motionless in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
The picture was dated 2008. I turned to my partner and asked what his history was.
"CVA."
"That's it?"
"Well, after that, it all started going downhill."
"Oh. Wow."
I gazed at the photo, looking back and forth between the picture and the patient.
History in 2008: No past pertinent medical history.
History in 2009: General weakness, renal failure, aphasia, diabetes, dysphagia all secondary to CVA.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Innocence
"Unit 2, please head over to XX hospital. You have a NICU call, you'll be picking up the NICU team there and heading to YY hospital for your patient."
"2 copy, enroute."
We arrived at the hospital and brought our gurney in to trade for the mobile incubator. The RN and RT were waiting for some more meds to arrive before we could leave. We loaded everything into the back and the nurses chatted with us enroute. We pulled into the ER bay at YY hospital and are told to landline our dispatch ASAP.
"Hey Jen, its unit 2. What's up?"
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you guys are clear to head back to XX hospital."
"Um, ok... What's going on?"
"He coded. I'm sorry, but he didn't make it. Go ahead and drop off the NICU team and head back to station."
"Oh. Ok. Thanks."
I turned and explained to the nurses that the call was cancelled. Their faces twisted from confusion into grief and sorrow when I tell them that the baby hadn't survived. The ride back was quiet except for the occassional beeping of the empty incubator, informing us it's battery was low. The nurse turned it off and sighed deeply.
I looked down at the run sheet in my lap and silently drew a large "X" through it, along with "10-22," signifying the call had been cancelled. I bite my lip and decide not to include those 3 letters.
DOA.
I turned my pager over and over in my hands, stopping briefly to read the details of the call again.
'Run # 12345
Smith, BabyBoy
Respiratory failure'
Not even old enough for a name. Survived about an hour.
Not even old enough for a name.
"2 copy, enroute."
We arrived at the hospital and brought our gurney in to trade for the mobile incubator. The RN and RT were waiting for some more meds to arrive before we could leave. We loaded everything into the back and the nurses chatted with us enroute. We pulled into the ER bay at YY hospital and are told to landline our dispatch ASAP.
"Hey Jen, its unit 2. What's up?"
"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you guys are clear to head back to XX hospital."
"Um, ok... What's going on?"
"He coded. I'm sorry, but he didn't make it. Go ahead and drop off the NICU team and head back to station."
"Oh. Ok. Thanks."
I turned and explained to the nurses that the call was cancelled. Their faces twisted from confusion into grief and sorrow when I tell them that the baby hadn't survived. The ride back was quiet except for the occassional beeping of the empty incubator, informing us it's battery was low. The nurse turned it off and sighed deeply.
I looked down at the run sheet in my lap and silently drew a large "X" through it, along with "10-22," signifying the call had been cancelled. I bite my lip and decide not to include those 3 letters.
DOA.
I turned my pager over and over in my hands, stopping briefly to read the details of the call again.
'Run # 12345
Smith, BabyBoy
Respiratory failure'
Not even old enough for a name. Survived about an hour.
Not even old enough for a name.
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