Out of Whack

On May 30th, I wrote about an instance where a Cardiac Rhythm was misinterpreted by an EKG machine, and then also, a variety of healthcare workers.
Well, it happened again, in a very similar way.

Admitted late
Ten o'clock at night,
Misinterpreted heart rhythm
Oh, what a fright,
The Cardiologist nailed it
The next day, what I'm saying,
An Atrial tachycardia
With 2:1 playing.

All nurses
Called it Sinus Tach,
But they were totally
Out of whack,
This guy
With chronic Atrial Fib,
To have Sinus Tach
Doth tickle a rib,
And a regular fixed rate
Right around one-twenty,
Screams A. Tach with block
Good and plenty.

When it finally became irregular
The nurse called it A.Fib,
Then phoned the doctor
To tickle his rib,
I proposed it was never
Not ever Sinus tach,
Whatever you were calling it
Was totally whack.

Finally, on day three
After adding beta blocker,
His rate slowed down
Atrial flutter, no shocker,
Looking exactly
Like his rhythm, 3 months back,
Had they looked at that EKG
No one would call it, Sinus Tach.

Grief

Despite the fact that many of us have been present at the death of hospital patient's (100++) , it is never anything like the loss of someone we know, or feel close to.

It is hard to express, because really, words are inadequate.

Grief

An aura of grief
Is surrounding you,
Please know, we care
And pray for healing,
We feel loss
And sadness too,
'Tis, but a shadow
Of what you're feeling.

Old Job

Four months have passed since switching the job and the hospital; I needed that much time to cool off. However, I had made it known when I left, that I might be available in the future to work some extra hours, if requested. A week ago I worked an extra 10-hour shift, and as Yogi Berra said, "It's deja vu all over again". (http://yogiberramuseum.org/just-for-fun/yogisms/).

Yep, we got crushed after 5:30 PM, because 55% of the staff went home, leaving 3 of us to thrash about. Incidentally, when I arrived at 12:30, I took over the Cardioversion patient, where I needed to administer Ibutilide (his rhythm did not convert, so he still required a shock). Then, at 1430, the patient who had undergone V.Tach (epicardial) Ablation, general anesthesia with severe sleep apnea, had in-dwelling Arterial and 2 venous sheaths in his bilateral groins; arrived, barely arousable and exhibiting guppy-breathing. Twenty minutes later, he required STAT re-intubation, and immediate delivery to the CSICU!
Yep, we were off to the races.

I returned
To the scene of the crime,
To work a rescue shift
And earn an extra dime,
My old-world job
At the mother house, mister,
I felt like
The prodigal sister.

I established some ground rules
I will only work with Ell,
She can protect me
When the scene goes to hell,
In the usual fashion
Every day after five,
Only time would tell
If we got out alive.

A close call, it was
'Twas a ten hour flog,
I felt like I was beaten
With a crusty oak log,
And at the end of our tour
At twenty-three thirty,
The two of us felt
Pummeled and dirty.

This experience affirmed
Why I left the dollar store,
I need a low-stress venue
To complete my final chore,
Working for the family
An assistant supporting role,
Make it out of this alive
Preserving sanity and soul.

Skin Deep

In lieu of the fact that I have another Dermatology appointment tomorrow (after working tonight I will have tired skin), I wrote #5 in the Skin series.

Skin Deep

What they say is

Beauty is only skin deep,

Some spend thousands of dollars

And lose a fair amount of sleep,

Attempting to keep it perfect

Thinking, it’s part of my charm,

The pills, potions and treatment

Often causing much harm.

All Dr. K, ever says

Is protect from the Sun,

When you’re playing outdoors

In the midst of your fun,

Slather on sunscreen

So you look something like Crisco,

You will fit right in

Visiting San Francisco.

7/11/16

Bloody Smell

Revisiting an ancient theme
I encountered a smell
That made me scream,
Despite the absence
I do not need,
To be reacquainted
With the G.I. bleed.

I previously
Pointed out,
How an odor like this
Is bad for one's snout,
On a scale of one hundred
It's two hundred and nine,
Sending putrid odors
Up and down my spine,
And frankly, folks
It should be unlawful,
'Cuz the bloody smell
Is frickin' awful.