Wednesday, August 18, 2010

ED Vignettes





Before the ED had our electronic documentation, patients sign up on a paper form. Liz, the triage nurse, loudly called for the next name... “Culo Grande, Culo Grande”. Nobody responded, and instead most of the patients were grinning, some with chests heaving with laughter every time Liz called out the name.
A Hispanic hospital police officer sidled up to Liz, “Do you know what ‘Culo Grande’ means?” It means “Big Ass.”.
Liz refused to triage after that.



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Do you know you can get drunk just from breathing the off-gases from the patients in the ED on New Year’s Day?




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Everybody knows CG, our resident drunk. He came via EMS, he came walking, he came in any which way he can especially on cold winter nights. He slipped in and out of the ER in sync with our mealtimes. Then he was gone for a month.
He came back one day, all cleaned up, dressed up in clean dress pants and shirt and a blazer. His sister got him into Rehab. We patted him on the back, even high-fived with him. “Way to go.”, “Keep it up”. TL smiled ear-to-ear, and blushed beet-red as he accepted all the compliments from the staff. We all felt that there was still hope in life.
A month later, he came back drunk and seizing.

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The red EMS notification phone rings. All ED personnel stopped in their tracks and listened with bated breath. The triage nurse answers, “No, sir, this is not a pizza parlor.”




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Everybody gasped. On the endoscopy machine screen, the patient’s stomach lining was littered with debris of her experiments with exotic food: an eraser, a paper clip, a teaspoon, a capped syringe, and a ring.
The GI consultant exclaimed, “So, that’s where my wedding ring went!”.

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The medical intern volunteered to do the chest compressions during a code. The strong, even strokes reflected on the defibrillator screen. Then the compressions became weaker, slower until the intern dropped on the floor.
Somebody said, “Uh-oh, there’s still Nitropaste on the patient’s chest.”

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