Down The Rabbit Hole

G.1. "Off With Your Head

Off With Your Head

Off With Your Head!” - create a blog entry (or static item) detailing an event that made you incredibly angry/frustrated. (<1000 words)

Word Count: 581

Working with Major Dieities

         This a memory that I believe will always be with me. It usually lies buried under "life," only to surface now and again when something triggers it.

         Working as a Surgical Registered Nurse in a county hospital, I wore three hats. My first and foremost responsibility was the role of a nurse, advocating and caring for my patients, assisting the doctors in surgical procedures, and assisting in training interns.

         Working with the interns was, for the most part, fun and rewarding. Witnessing young men and women progress from insecure physicians and mature into confident doctors at the end of their four-year assignment. But—every once in a while, one will come through and believe the M.D. he is allowed to sport behind his name stands for "Major Dieity" and behaves accordingly. Such was the case of Dr. "Smith." I'll refer to him as Dr. Smith to protect identities.

         I was on call for the weekend—first team. I firmly believed that I should never initiate my second team unless it were a life-or-death situation because doing so would leave the house uncovered. At four o'clock in the morning, I received a phone call for a "STAT" c-section. A "STAT" section meant only one thing to me. Mama's down, or baby's down, or both are down. I hastily dressed and ran at every stoplight between my house and the hospital. Grabbing my scrubs, I dressed while running up the stairs to L&D. When I arrived, I learned that the section was called for an FTP. Let me briefly explain what an FTP is. A FTP is a failure to progress, which means the patient has been pushing too soon, and the cervix can't dilate due to edema. It is not life-threatening, and this usually happens with first babies.

         I was very angry and explained to him that you never call in a STAT unless it is life-threatening. This was the beginning of a long, long night. He then had the nerve to ask if they had called me in from home. I could have killed him.

         BUT—that wasn't the end.

          The L&D girls brought me another section in the middle of this section. All I was told was that the doctor had called for her, expecting that I would initiate my second team. I was not given any information on her, so I declined. Stating we would be free in one hour.

Twenty minutes later, they brought her again. This time, they told me that she was ruptured and running a fever, and Dr. Smith knew of her condition but wanted to wait on her. The problem was this simple equation: Ruptured membranes + fever = Chorioamnionitis. It is life-threatening.

         At that point, I took matters into my own hands. I called the house supervisor and had him call my Staff Doctors, my second team, the blood bank, NICU, and anesthesia. I had the L&D girls put her in an OR room. Checking in on my other patient, I managed to get the emergency patient prepped and ready to go when the Doctors and my second team arrived.

         To sum it up, we lost the baby and saved the mama. I wrote an incident report, which was seven pages in length. I got Dr. Smith kicked out of the hospital. I never saw him again.