The fast-paced ER I work is always an
adventure in one way or another, but one of the downsides of the job is that it is nearly
impossible to find someone to work when you fall ill, particularly at the last minute (because the gastroenteritis comes on rather suddenly), let alone it's a Saturday night, crap...
In six and a half years of doing this, I've never called in, and it's not out of luck, but just the reality of things...one must work while sick. I've known other docs to walk around the ER with a perforated appendicitis with an IV pole attached (I wonder what the patients must think of that!!) just because we feel we have to be so stoic.
No such drama for me, just gastroenteritis this time, chills, body aches, headache (from the caffeine withdrawal partly, no doubt, since I was too nauseated to drink my usual 3 cups at the beginning of my night shift).
The parent with the sleeping
afebrile child who "had a fever at home...he felt hot...I didn't have a thermometer though...why do I have to wait so long in this ER, the worst ER in the world because I had to wait..." is always a bit unnerving, but adding the GI bug, it takes on a new dimension. "But ma'am, there were 3 people I had to see first that had trouble breathing" doesn't seem to matter. Sometimes it really seems to me like people live their lives in a bubble, oblivious to what's going on around them, and that there might be actual emergencies in an emergency room (imagine that). And, oh yeah, I had to take a 5 minute break to throw up. OK, maybe I should omit saying that...
But the nurses and staff were amazingly empathetic, and perhaps the paleness of my face after returning from the doctor's lounge wasn't pitiful enough. I never expect a lot of empathy from anyone in the ER, because with all the screaming, moaning, and drug-seeking, we all become a bit low on fuel in the empathy department.
Isn't our caring nature why we went into medicine in first place? Oh yeah, I must remind myself of this, even while ill.
The night didn't end up too terrible, no gunshot wounds or combative drunk drivers typical of the usual Saturday night, and my waves of nausea were disappearing by about 2 a.m., so then I was able to hold down some Motrin. The only bad thing was that when 7 a.m. rolled around, my relief didn't show. The nurses because worried because my replacement was almost always dependable and early, and there was some black ice outside, so they started thinking of the worst case
scenario (can you blame them, considering where we work?), only to discover by the emergency scheduling person who phoned him that he had accidentally set "Alarm 2" on his clock instead of "Alarm 1". At 8:30 he
apologetically walked in as I wrapped up the "emergency toothache for 1 week" in room 15 and headed home, only to be delayed behind a "wide load" taking up both sides of the 2 lane country road. I slept for almost 20 hours, thanks to my gracious husband who pitied me (and dreaded when he would catch the bug next), and I woke up this morning feeling surprisingly better.
Today I treated myself with a manicure/pedicure and lunch out with my mom and sister, which I hadn't done in a long time.
