Showing posts with label intensive care. Show all posts
Showing posts with label intensive care. Show all posts

Monday, May 12, 2014

Hot (Scheduling) Mess

There has been a lot written lately about work-life balance. In a session with my Therapist last week, she laughed and said “you’re a Resident, for this last year of residency, I really just want you to survive!” We spent the remainder of our session coming up with ways that I can pay people to do things I don’t have the time to do. And she made me promise to work harder to eat better, sleep more, and exercise more; my turn to laugh. Next week, our family will be trying out a week of made-from-scratch meals from a local organic market while I finish a busy week of nights. And we are looking for a second cleaning person after the first one proved to be a bad fit with our family.

Scheduling time away from work for things like research, board exams, and doctors appointments is an exceedingly stressful aspect of my life. Because we get our schedules pretty late, I try my best to email the our Scheduling Attending and Chiefs at least several months before I think I’ll need time off. Nevertheless, I sometimes get my schedule and there are conflicts and then I have to forward back my original email requesting time off and the hot-scheduling-mess begins.

Last year, when I took my Step 3, I emailed the Scheduling Attending and waited so long for a response that the dates kept filling up. I had to extend my eligibility period and finally had to use research time to take the test. I have heard countless stories from other Residents recounting their shared experiences (many have to use vacation time) and how stressful it is to try to do things you have to do.

This year, my son will be spending my last Intensive Care Unit month with his grandparents while my husband is away doing research. He will spend the first 3 weeks with my parents, but once their vacation time is used up, he’ll spend an additional week with my in-laws. At the suggestion of my husband, I emailed the scheduling Attending and requested off a single day and offered to make it up during my vacation.

I feel guilty that we need our parents to watch him. I feel guilty that I asked for a schedule change. However, it would have been a very stressful and traumatizing experience for all of us if I tried to travel, get Zo acclimated, and get myself ready for life without my family for a whole month in 2 days. And then to make me feel even worse, I get an email saying that the Scheduling Attending talked to my Residency Director and my Clinic Attending and she would like to know if I really need that extra day off. They understand my unique situation but they want to double-check before they reschedule me.

As I began to stifle my tears, my husband came over to rub my back. I explained my distress and he reiterated that even though it’s hard, I have to ask for what I need. He reminded me to not feel bad and that “it’s the culture” of medicine that makes it difficult for folks to realize that what we are asking for is not unheard of.

After taking a break, I responded that yes I do need the day, that I would personally call the 2 patients I have scheduled, and that I again would be more than willing to make it up using a vacation day.

Thus ends this installment of my hot-scheduling-mess until the response email. Dunnn dunnn dunnnnnnnnnnn.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Beauty in Crisis: the dance of the Pediatric Pharmacist

G is a beloved Pediatric Pharmacist in our hospital. She is thorough yet collegial, encyclopedic yet approachable.

Tonight during a crisis I realized yet again why she is invaluable. I am in the last weeks of my first Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) rotation. Tonight, like other nights, a very sick patient became critically ill. She needed infusions and doses of medications out of the normal ranges and she needed them fast.

I power-walked to the pharmacy to pick up some meds and I got to watch G in action. Together we researched doses and administration. And then I got to sit back and watch the master at her work. She floated. She glided. All the while silently mouthing things to herself like a dancer reviewing her choreography. She taught me her choreography, explaining why she was drawing up the medication in this way, why she was adding it to a carrier fluid in that way. The entire time I was enraptured. It made the physically and emotionally draining night more manageable and allowed me to step back and see the beauty in this crisis. I saw how the members of the team, including me, worked together to bring a patient on the brink of death back to life.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

My Brain Doesn't Work Like This: chronicles of an aspiring primary care provider in the PICU

I am in the throes of my first Pediatric Intensive Care Unit rotation. I was shocked that by Day 2 I wanted to run away and hide under my covers. Shocked that soo early into the rotation, I was hitting  the snooze button soo many times that my husband who sleeps through anything (except my occasional snoring and Zo crying) ordered me out of bed.

I am NOT that Resident. I’m not the one who hates residency. On most days I am so excited to serve patients and work with amazing colleagues. But I fear I have become THAT Resident. The grumpy one. The one who doesn’t want to be here. The PICU and its acuity has brought it out. Stealing the “oomf” from my life. Encouraging family members and friends have given me pep talks as I weep into the phone about how draining dealing with such critically ill children and their families has been; children with devastating neurologic damage or those with genetic syndromes with abysmal prognosis.

And top off the emotional heaviness with the fact that my brain just doesn’t work like this! The Attendings and Fellows are amazing. Without a single written note, they can recall doses of infusions from the prior week, what the Neurologist or Infectious Disease Consultant said 8 days ago, what I and other Residents said at every moment of the day, and various other details that I cannot ever imagine myself being able to recall without very detailed notes. Ventilators and infusions and cardiac physiology after a specific surgery, my brain screams out, “give me 5 minutes, 5 more minutes with the Peds In Review or Up-to-date and I promise I’ll have a detailed explanation!” but no, I have 2.5 seconds before I get the “you are dumb, hush up now” look. And of course I am now tachycardic and sweating and feeling hypoglycemic in the third hour of rounding.

I have tried to somewhat let myself off of the hook. I will never be a great PICU Resident, but I’m getting better and might even be pretty darn good by the end, nor do I endeavor to become a great PICU Attending. As an aspiring primary care provider and maybe even a Nursery or part-time ER Attending I will know how to keep critically ill patients alive until the Intensivists arrive. And even now, I am keeping my patients alive. I am learning how to more efficiently and effectively manage their acute issues and prioritize. I have come up with some good ideas and my brain works really well sometimes. But feeling adequate most of the time, just doesn’t feel good. And then my brain screams that it just can’t work fast enough to be excellent in this setting. And I acquiesce because it’s right and this is something I’ll just have to come to terms with as I snuggle even more under my covers while pressing snooze one more time. Because now more than ever, my brain needs its rest.