Rewards for good service
Case 1:
Unhappy woman. I spend half an hour listening to her sad story. She cries and wails and throws herself against the cotsides. I put an arm around to try and comfort her. She quiets down after awhile. She turns her face into my shoulder and bawls.
And then she blows her nose copiously. On my sleeve.
Nice.
I spend the rest of the evening walking around with snot streaks down my sleeve. The other patients are revulsed and can't take their eyes of my sleeve. I must have looked real professional and hygienic.
Case 2:
Man in pain. On top of all his problems, he also has diabetes. He's delirious from his haphazard blood sugar levels, and screams gibberish at the top of his lungs. I manage to cannulate him, give him a sugar drip and morphine to ease the pain. He becomes more lucid, realises he has a cannula in his arm and pulls it out. Bleeds onto the floor.
I replace the cannula much to his great distress. He pulls it out again. Bleeds onto my trousers.
Nice. Real nice.
I replace that cannula a third time. He is less disoriented now, and doesn't pull it out, but he hates me. He screams at me at the top of his lungs loud comments about my alternative lifestyle as an incestuous canine streetwalker and invites me to roast in the underworld for all eternity.
He continues to point and scream at me until they wheel him up to the ward. He actually stops screaming the minute he leaves the A&E. Marvellous effect I must have had on him.
Unhappy woman. I spend half an hour listening to her sad story. She cries and wails and throws herself against the cotsides. I put an arm around to try and comfort her. She quiets down after awhile. She turns her face into my shoulder and bawls.
And then she blows her nose copiously. On my sleeve.
Nice.
I spend the rest of the evening walking around with snot streaks down my sleeve. The other patients are revulsed and can't take their eyes of my sleeve. I must have looked real professional and hygienic.
Case 2:
Man in pain. On top of all his problems, he also has diabetes. He's delirious from his haphazard blood sugar levels, and screams gibberish at the top of his lungs. I manage to cannulate him, give him a sugar drip and morphine to ease the pain. He becomes more lucid, realises he has a cannula in his arm and pulls it out. Bleeds onto the floor.
I replace the cannula much to his great distress. He pulls it out again. Bleeds onto my trousers.
Nice. Real nice.
I replace that cannula a third time. He is less disoriented now, and doesn't pull it out, but he hates me. He screams at me at the top of his lungs loud comments about my alternative lifestyle as an incestuous canine streetwalker and invites me to roast in the underworld for all eternity.
He continues to point and scream at me until they wheel him up to the ward. He actually stops screaming the minute he leaves the A&E. Marvellous effect I must have had on him.
posted by tscd at 3:15 pm
3 Comments:
Ouch. -hug.
On ER (okay, I know, hardly an authoritative source of information), the docs always seem to change out of their soiled clothes into scrubs if their clothes are messed up beyond what's professionally acceptable or hygienic. I'm guessing that only happens on TV?
Out of curiosity, isn't there some kind of germ/bacteria risk from having the snot or blood on your clothes as you continue to move around the hospital?
Courage! The work you do is important, and you are important --- even if the small-minded among us can't see it.
w: thanks. I'd hug you back but I don't want to drip my snot on your clothes.
glared: thanks for the affirmation!
tym: I wear a doctor's uniform in the A&E department so I didn't have a change of uniform handy. Wearing scrubs is considered sloppy and unprofessional in the UK - so instead, I just wear ugly clothes to work.
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