- Joined
- Jun 23, 2003
- Messages
- 15,455
- Reaction score
- 6,725
Damn...
I'm just now getting de-stressed from my night.
I was all alone tonight...just me and 220 patients...had three codes within the course of 20 minutes. One in PACU, one in ICU, and one in the CT scanner of all places.
You people don't know jack about stress until you've literally got a surgeon, an internal medicine doc, and an ER doc on the line simultaneously screaming at you wanting stat levophed, Neo drips, and fentanyl drips all at the same time. You want to talk about confusion? I'm working off of verbal orders and a cordless phone in an IV hood. Who gets the Levophed or phenylephrine again (...does it really matter...)?
Halfway through one of them wants to know if you have inactivated factor VIIa...who the hell knows...I have to call my director...he's all pissed off because his budget wouldn't let him have it or some crap...hell I don't know...then that physician is pissed because we didn't have it...hell...got all three docs all pissed off because THEIR code doesn't automatically come first...my techs are running around the hospital like chickens with their heads cut off...all the while I'm getting calls every 3 minutes from nurses everywhere else in the hospital wondering where their precious now dose Maalox is I've buried underneath the orders for the codes and has sat there for 30 minutes...a damned recruiter for RPHontheGo calls me at one point...the surgeon is calling me to ask if vecuronium and Zemuron are the same thing (yeah, a surgeon)...somehow I withheld my desire to call him a *******...I'm then informed that he doesn't want to use the Zemuron that's in his freakin' Pyxis because he's used to vecuronium...so I literally start sprinting around the pharmacy trying to find where the hell our buyer hides the damned neuromuscular blockers...by the end of the night you could see where my black boots had left marks all over the floor from me running everywhere. laugh The night pharmacist comes in to find me as a pathetic lump of humanity, slumped in my office chair, muttering nonsensical phrases to myself...
Ah...good times...I love this ****...
I'm just now getting de-stressed from my night.
I was all alone tonight...just me and 220 patients...had three codes within the course of 20 minutes. One in PACU, one in ICU, and one in the CT scanner of all places.
You people don't know jack about stress until you've literally got a surgeon, an internal medicine doc, and an ER doc on the line simultaneously screaming at you wanting stat levophed, Neo drips, and fentanyl drips all at the same time. You want to talk about confusion? I'm working off of verbal orders and a cordless phone in an IV hood. Who gets the Levophed or phenylephrine again (...does it really matter...)?
Halfway through one of them wants to know if you have inactivated factor VIIa...who the hell knows...I have to call my director...he's all pissed off because his budget wouldn't let him have it or some crap...hell I don't know...then that physician is pissed because we didn't have it...hell...got all three docs all pissed off because THEIR code doesn't automatically come first...my techs are running around the hospital like chickens with their heads cut off...all the while I'm getting calls every 3 minutes from nurses everywhere else in the hospital wondering where their precious now dose Maalox is I've buried underneath the orders for the codes and has sat there for 30 minutes...a damned recruiter for RPHontheGo calls me at one point...the surgeon is calling me to ask if vecuronium and Zemuron are the same thing (yeah, a surgeon)...somehow I withheld my desire to call him a *******...I'm then informed that he doesn't want to use the Zemuron that's in his freakin' Pyxis because he's used to vecuronium...so I literally start sprinting around the pharmacy trying to find where the hell our buyer hides the damned neuromuscular blockers...by the end of the night you could see where my black boots had left marks all over the floor from me running everywhere. laugh The night pharmacist comes in to find me as a pathetic lump of humanity, slumped in my office chair, muttering nonsensical phrases to myself...
Ah...good times...I love this ****...