Wednesday, May 1, 2002.
Due Date: May 14. But Amy could deliver ANY DAY NOW!!
Date an Anime Girl ... seriously, this cartoon dating game is way too fun.
(I finally made it to LOVER status. No phallic tentacles either.)
WHAM BAM THIS IS THE E.R. MA'AM
DARK HAIRED BLESSING
For the past few weeks, I've been working the late shift at work this month, starting at 5 p.m.
I think I was blessed with good luck on my first night.
I was on my way to see my first ER patient when this dark-haired girl walked onto the elevator.
She stood in front of me, and began flicking her long hair, which had a most intoxicating fragrance.
I took that as an omen that it might be a good month, and closed my eyes as the elevator descended.
Right afterwards though, some freakish guy got on the elevator and immediately tried picking up this girl. In a hospital! She let out an awkward "... hi?" and then flew in the opposite direction once the elevator doors opened again.
As I walked by another family, I overheard someone saying,
"I just don't like doctors at all." They laughed.
MR. ASTEROIDI recognized him by name before I saw him. It's not difficult to remember a dark-complected, green-eyed, 550-pound man.
"You look different than your badge picture," he said, not remembering me.
"Yeah, longer hair now," I smiled. I still had that wide-eyed look back then too, I think. These days, I feel about as wide-eyed as a jade(d) Buddha.
After questioning him more, I narrowed the likely possible diagnoses to three:
1. Blood clot to lungs. 2. Bleed in bowels. 3. Irregular heart rhythm.
Testing was limited, because even the Empire doesn't have a C.T. scanner big enough for someone over
300 pounds. They used to ship people to the Detroit Zoo and use theirs.Last year, there was this 325 pound man who needed to get a scan here. The team taking care of him actually gave diuretics for his massive water retention until he became less than 300 pounds. His kidneys nearly went into failure but in the end, everything went as smooth as butter (or with the help of butter, not sure).
With Mr. Asteroid, the treatment for his most likely problem ("a lung clot") involved using "blood-thinners." But this would make the second possibility, a bleeding bowel, that much worse. Medicine is ALWAYS like this. Always diametrically opposed problems to treat.
Internists are constantly worrying about the possibilities. Because that's the internal medicine doctor's forte - thinking. If you don't think of it, you'll never find it.
The emergency doctor's forte, on the other hand, is really speed. They have to think too, but they mostly have to decide what needs to be taken care of right now. Then fix it or admit them to medicine (Medea Sin … what I do).
Surgery's (Sir Jury's) forte is doing.
I crinkled my nose,
"Well, one more thing ... ever have a rectal exam?"
Snap!
I'm kidding. I don't really snap the gloves on like that. No need to make that sphincter any tighter.
I had a friend once who had to "rectalize" a patient who was heavier than this one. He needed two people to help roll the person over. And when he finally got his finger in there, the person rolled back. Crack! Instant broken finger. He got the Intern of the Month for that one.
Mr. Asteroid was able to roll over by himself though. It wasn't easy finding his anus, no joke. Butt tissue can be pretty heavy and floppy at that size.
The good news was ... I was in. The bad news was ... a good part of my forearm was in too. Not in his asshole but between the superfluous flabs of butt cheeks sandwiching it. You think that's gross? I won't even start talking about trying to get some of his in-rectum shit on my gloved finger.
But I did. I tested it on the little paper card. Blood-free. Good news.
All part of the job. Mr. Asteroid put up with it like a trooper. Nice guy. That's also why I remember him from last time.
MAKING THE GIRLS CRY
Twenty years old with brilliant eyes and smooth perfect cheeks and already giving me a headache with her incessant dissatisfaction, despite my most non-provoking demeanor. Honestly, I tolerated the full brunt of her frustration by looking deep into her eyes and reminding myself she had been in high school just two years ago.
"Well! Can you at least tell me when I am getting moved upstairs?"
I must have come back sooner than she expected, she was crying into her knees.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm just tired of always getting sick," she apologized.
"It's not your fault. You've been through so much already…." I answered and her sore eyes looked up. Their tender stare surprised me and I had to look away then. She was looking at me for the first time that night as if I were a real person.
E.R.OS
"Someone actually called me a fucking asshole today. I've never been called that in my life," a frustrated ER doc told me.
I was about to reply with,
"I think the 'fucking' part is a bit harsh too."
But he probably wouldn't have found it funny, and the trauma rooms were busy enough as it was.
Instead I wondered when the two teens "saying their goodbyes" (with their tongues) on the gurney in front of me were going to come up for air.
GOD LIKES BABIES TOONext to me I heard another ER doc talking about a baby patient in the Pediatric Emergency Room:
"... herniated (his brainstem) and blew his pupils (the Marilyn Manson sign) during the exam. Three month old baby. He may or may not be on your list tomorrow morning...."
Some people go into pediatrics because they really love children. Some people don't go into pediatrics for the exact same reason.
MAKE MINE A DOUBLE
I met a couple of alcoholics this month. One couldn't even remember having open brain surgery for a cerebral bleed (related to drinking) he had years ago (on his chart). He wasn't even drunk when I asked him about it either.
I asked how he had become homeless.
"I chose it ... that's the short answer," he said looking like a grungey Santa Claus out of work. The long answer was that he had a great wife, a great family, a great job and chose to throw it all away, in his own words.
It was sad enough to make me want to have a drink (and I don't drink).
The other alcoholic was about one tooth from being homeless himself.
CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
The nurse had teased me that the 50-year old lady had asked for a "young handsome doctor" to see her. What she got was me and I had to tell her she may have lung cancer.
"Any questions?"
"Hmm... no," she said calmly, still smiling, like a mask. Threatening to crumble any second.
LAST CALL
My final patient this month (tonight) was an old lady, who was stuck on a gurney in one of the ER's hallways because it was so busy.
"It looks like you have a pneumonia and a silent heart attack too ... [more details] .... Any questions?" I asked.
"Do you know when I can get off of this gurney. It's so hard," this 88-year old lady chuckled.
The only thing harder than getting an ER nurse to help you in the ER, are the gurneys in the ER.
"I guess I shouldn't complain. Life isn't perfect, you know?"
That 88-year old was the healthiest looking patient I had all month.
GHOSTS OF K-POP
When I got home past midnight I found one of my Korean music tapes in the VCR. Amy hardly ever watches those music shows unless I actually make her sit next to me and watch them.
Amy told me later that she and ... The LIGER! would put the tapes in and pretend I was home watching it with them.
My babies have missed me.
____________________________________________________
WHO'S YOUR DADDY CLUB
I've gotten great new-daddy advice from all of these guys.
Matt Sturges - has returned! An enchanting (and sometimes inflammatory) writer, published fantasy author, and a pretty funny guy (more funny than pretty though).
Paul - rocket scientist, brain surgeon, new daddy, and all-around great guy. Paul beat me in the baby-race I challenged him to. I blame the porn.
and Danny - reformed gangster, moonlighting transvestite, and N*SYNC rub-down boy. If his auntie could see him now.
