I don't do it often but this morning I'm talking about work. Generally I don't talk about the work I do because a)it's not all of who I am nor do I spend every waking hour thinking about it and b) there's a degree of confidentiality that must be maintained in my line of work so I can't talk about the a lot of the happy, sad, funny, or just flat miraculous moments in what I do. This morning I'm making a small exception. . .
You just never know what you're going to find when you clock in for work in my unit. Recently I walked in and found that I would be taking care of three babies who were each receiving 2 units of blood. . .at the same time. You have to know how much careful monitoring that requires to appreciate the nightmare that was.
Last night I walked in, scrubbed in, got report on my assigned patients, then was asked to go and replace a nurse who had already been downstairs for 2 hours with a baby who was having some GI tests done in radiology. This baby wasn't my patient but my co-worker is pregnant and although she would be charting on the baby for the rest of the evening, she couldn't go down and be exposed to all that radiologic stuff.
Fine, I said. No problem, I said. I'll be back in a little while, I said.
I was downstairs for 4 and a half hours.
If you've never held a baby upright for four and a half hours while waiting for barium to move through his GI tract, let me tell you, it's an agonizingly slow process. I had to keep him wrapped in three blankets as the routine temperature in the radiology suite is something approaching sub-zero. I had to make sure his IV remained intact and infusing fluids. Every 30 minutes or so the radiologist would come back, place the baby on the table, take an x-ray of his bowel pattern, mash on his belly a little, take another picture, then leave us -just me and this little guy - totally alone again, me sitting there holding him upright in hopes of moving the barium through his system. Every "mash the belly" part was followed by the "baby spits up copious amounts of barium" part, and the considerate (can you feel the sarcasm?) nurse whom I'd replaced hadn't thought to bring replacement blankets or anything else with which to keep this kid clean.
Meanwhile the other two nurses - well, no, one of the nurses and a unit secretary - held down the fort and looked after the other 15 babies. After I had been downstairs for nearly 2 hours, the one nurse broke away and brought me fresh blankets, diapers, and the IV medicines I needed to give him. The other nurse (supposedly our "charge nurse") had apparently decided to turn her 30-minute dinner break into an hour-and-a-half long disappearing act.
Finally, at midnight, the radiologist said we could go back upstairs. . .on the condition that we come back in one hour for one more x-ray. To make a long, tedious evening short, after all the films were taken we ended up transferring the little guy to our sister unit, the Neonatal Intensive Care. Seems he has some serious bowel problems which may need to be addressed surgically and no amount of holding baby upright, massaging belly, different angle of x-ray,etc. was going to change that.
All in a night's work I guess, but since I did another 8 hours of work after that, I'm just a little whipped this morning. Okay, a lot whipped.
I can say that if you must spend an evening in radiology, I highly recommend the heavy lead aprons - they're wonderful for keeping you warm :>
Posted by woohoo at February 26, 2003 09:28 AM | TrackBack