A Nurse with a Gun

Thursday, August 30, 2007

A Night Without Ilsa

My wife had taken Ilsa into the vet yesterday morning for treatment, and I was to pick her up after leaving work yesterday. Ilsa has been having a bit of a problem with demodicosis and we finally decided to have her dipped. The treatment is harsh on a doggie, so we had held off, hoping her developing immune system would conquer the disease. We could not vaccinate her with the problem, however. After she chased a coon out of the backyard a few days ago on our early morning urinary relief sojourn, I finally relented and said "Let's dip her and get it over with." I was to pick her up at 1430.

Alas,the life of a nurse is never so structured, unless that nurse works the drudgery of the hospital floors. I almost left the hospital early yesterday. I was not on call, and all the cases were finished at 1200. I decided to stay and get caught up on paperwork and such......

At 1345 I got word that a critical hemorrhagic case was being raced to the ER. I went down to prepare, and at about 1400, I began work in earnest to stop a duodenal bleed. We shoved blood in as fast as it arrived, scoping past a sanguine volcano erupting from the man's mouth and nostrils. Our patient was bellowing as he thrashed about on the stretcher, spraying blood about the room. Intubation and anesthesia was not possible. The ER staff went AWOL. The sedation had no effect on this man as we wrestled him to keep him still so we could perform a miracle for his family. He would have tipped the scales at 230 at least, and he was whooping our asses..........

I'll let it go at that. When the blood drips off the surgical lights on to the back of your head and neck in a case, you know you are in deep. In the end, we saved his life, although we all ended up bruised and battered from the ordeal.

When I left the gory and trashed treatment room to find the ER nurse and give report, I learned she was on a smoke break. Somehow, I was not surprised, nor amused. Covered with blood, spit and sweat, except where my shredded gown and goggles had protected me, I found the ER supervisor. I explained firmly that she would take report, right here, right now. Exhausted and spent, I walked out of the ER at 1735. The vet closed at 5:30PM. I'm sorry Ilsa. I'll see you when I get home this afternoon.

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5 Comments:

Anonymous pignock said...

Holy Cow???!!!

Is that really a day in the life? If it is you have my deepest sympathy and respect. And I was just bitching about a two hour mechanical job in 120 degree heat. My hat is off to you and I hope your pooch is doing well.

Keith

2:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The nurse supervisor is one of those that makes it very easy to like our pets more than most people.

whw

1:28 PM  
Blogger Cliff_1911A1 said...

"The nurse supervisor is one of those that makes it very easy to like our pets more than most people."

I was just thinking... it really doesn't have to be a "nurse" supervisor... it can be any supervisor... heck, it doesn't even have to be a supervisor... just a co-worker... or another person.

As I've become "older"... uhhh... actually just more mature... the above have given me to like my pet more... and truly understand the value of having at least one quality specimen of a Colt 1911-A1 pistol and one fine Smith & Wesson revolver.

The pet's love is unconditional... and the Colt or Smith is just plain ole' nice to have around for company!

11:14 PM  
Blogger phlegmfatale said...

gee whiz-- what a rough day at work! I'm sure Ilsa has already forgiven and forgotten. Pretty girl.

8:31 AM  
Blogger phlegmfatale said...

gee whiz-- what a rough day at work! I'm sure Ilsa has already forgiven and forgotten. Pretty girl.

8:31 AM  

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