September 17, 2010
September 16, 2010
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September 14, 2010
September 13, 2010
September 10, 2010
One of my guilty pleasures on Thursday evenings is watching a TV drama about rookie police officers. One reflected on her difficult experiences in a tear-jerker of a scene:
It made me think about my own experiences as a paramedic. Before I could legally enter a bar, I'd seen shootings and stabbings, suicides and murders. I held a man as he died of cancer, I've done CPR on an infant. I've fought drunks and drug addicts, witnessed a shooting...I chased a drunk driver at 80mph in an ambulance.
But I've never thought of them as ghosts.
Instantaneous shock is anesthetizing. Dealing with feelings in the days and weeks following a bad call is like trying to run underwater- a slow and very, very frustrating process.
But in the end I'm going to be a better doctor for it. When I'm in class and the professor lectures about diabetic ketoacidosis- I think of that teenager who I thought was lying for attention but ended up in the ICU- and lived - because I happened to check his blood sugar. Just in case.
When the lecture is on crush syndrome I think about the wreck when the extrication took 2 hours because a patient's leg was mangled in the wreckage. Or the time that I sat in a crushed van trying to console three terrified patients as firefighters cut off the roof.
I still remember my first call in May, 2005- a car accident with 6 patients. We rushed to the hospital with helicopters following us overhead.
When the lesson has a face, when it has a name- it actually means something. I feel like I have a foundation, an infrastructure in my mind around which I can build the remainder of my medical knowledge.
Ghosts or no ghosts, the trials we face make us stronger and wiser....
I wouldn't give up my four years on an ambulance for anything.
"Every bad call leaves a ghost."
It made me think about my own experiences as a paramedic. Before I could legally enter a bar, I'd seen shootings and stabbings, suicides and murders. I held a man as he died of cancer, I've done CPR on an infant. I've fought drunks and drug addicts, witnessed a shooting...I chased a drunk driver at 80mph in an ambulance.
But I've never thought of them as ghosts.
Instantaneous shock is anesthetizing. Dealing with feelings in the days and weeks following a bad call is like trying to run underwater- a slow and very, very frustrating process.
But in the end I'm going to be a better doctor for it. When I'm in class and the professor lectures about diabetic ketoacidosis- I think of that teenager who I thought was lying for attention but ended up in the ICU- and lived - because I happened to check his blood sugar. Just in case.
When the lecture is on crush syndrome I think about the wreck when the extrication took 2 hours because a patient's leg was mangled in the wreckage. Or the time that I sat in a crushed van trying to console three terrified patients as firefighters cut off the roof.
I still remember my first call in May, 2005- a car accident with 6 patients. We rushed to the hospital with helicopters following us overhead.
When the lesson has a face, when it has a name- it actually means something. I feel like I have a foundation, an infrastructure in my mind around which I can build the remainder of my medical knowledge.
Ghosts or no ghosts, the trials we face make us stronger and wiser....
I wouldn't give up my four years on an ambulance for anything.
September 9, 2010
ok, I have to share one of my favorite med school metaphors:
“Medical school is like trying to eat five pancakes every morning for breakfast. Every day you show up with your first-year optimism and your annoying hunger for learning and you clean that plate. But you begin to notice that those pancakes are slowing you down a little each day and the sugar highs and lows are screwing with your sleep. Smart person that you are, you decide to pass on the flapjacks one day. You think to yourself, “Self, I’m going to eat ten pancakes tomorrow so that I don’t have to eat any today.” But … before you know it there are 40 pancakes in front of you and your plate needs to be clean by tomorrow. And that’s when it seems impossible. And it’s your fault.”
“Medical school is like trying to eat five pancakes every morning for breakfast. Every day you show up with your first-year optimism and your annoying hunger for learning and you clean that plate. But you begin to notice that those pancakes are slowing you down a little each day and the sugar highs and lows are screwing with your sleep. Smart person that you are, you decide to pass on the flapjacks one day. You think to yourself, “Self, I’m going to eat ten pancakes tomorrow so that I don’t have to eat any today.” But … before you know it there are 40 pancakes in front of you and your plate needs to be clean by tomorrow. And that’s when it seems impossible. And it’s your fault.”
September 5, 2010
September 2, 2010
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