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Nurse Stories, Part Seven: They Just Keep Coming! (By Louisiana M. Sandusky, R.N.) by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Rated "PG" by the Author.
Louisiana shares a story about a particularly hectic day in the emergency department.
It was one of those days where, if I had any inkling as to how the day was going to end up, I probably would have just pulled the covers over my head and would have fallen right back to sleep.
But I was scheduled to work that day; and so I wearily dragged my aching body out of the confines of my warm, comfortable bed, and I went to the bathroom, where I ran my bath water and as I waited for the tub to fill, I got my nurse's uniform together and laid the uniform on the bed and got out my nursing shoes and pantyhose. I then went back into the bathroom, turned off the faucet after the tub was full to where I wanted it, took off my nightgown, and eased my aching body into the water. The hot water felt good on my arthritic body, and I settled down in what I hoped would be a few minute's bliss before I had to get ready for my job at the hospital.
Once out of the tub and dried, I got dressed, and I fixed my hair and put on my shoes. I then grabbed my purse and my cane, and I slowly, but surely, made my way to the kitchen, where I poured myself a cup of steaming-hot Cajun-style coffee, grabbed a bagel, and proceeded to eat my breakfast. I then went back to the master bedroom that my husband, Bill, and myself shared, and I gently kissed my still-sleeping husband goodbye, and I quietly shut the door, and I went outside, where I got into my van, and then started on my way to work.
Traffic was kind of heavy, so I took it slow, and I was careful to monitor not only my own driving, but the driving habits of those around me; and I silently said a quick prayer to myself as I fought my way through traffic and motored my way to work. I got to work about ten minutes later, and after I parked my van in the Disabled parking area, I went inside, where I said hello to my supervisor and went to relieve the night shift charge nurse, Genevieve Voisin, and start my day at the hospital.
I soon learned that I was to work the Emergency Room. Whereupon, I went to the elevators, and I went down to the ground floor, where the E.R. was located, and I mentally prepared myself for what was to come. Hopefully it would be a slow day, I remember thinking.
But alas..not long after I had clocked in and gotten my supplies, the emergency tones sounded, which told us that an ambulance was on its way to the hospital. Actually, SEVERAL ambulances were on route to Nashville Memorial Hospital: there had been a six-car crash, and there were some serious injuries. We'd best be ready, the paramedics told us.
About five minutes later, the first of the ambulances started to arrive. The first victims were soon brought in. A child, a girl of seven, and her mother, were the first to be brought in. The child had a suspected head injury (she was unconscious but was responsive to pokes and pinches), but the mother was receiving full CPR: a paramedic was kneeling on the bed, at the woman's side, pushing hard on her chest in a quick, rapid manner, and a female paramedic was squeezing an Ambu bag, attached to a tube in the woman's mouth, every few seconds, manually breathing for her. The little girl would probably be okay, but we were worried about her mother. She looked more dead than alive, and her skin was a livid blue.
Not long after the little girl and her mother came Victim #3: a drunken man in his 40's was wheeled in next. He was broken and bloody, but he was awake, and he was cussing loudly as he was being wheeled into the E.R. He didn't appear to have anything more serious than some nasty cuts that a few stitches couldn't repair; but the stench of alcohol wafting from his filthy, unwashed body was enough to curl the hairs in my nose and make my eyes water. He would probably be okay, but he would have to be evaluated, and he would probably be admitted for close observation.
Ambulance Number Three came next. On the stretcher was a motionless baby boy not much older than a few months, and like the woman earlier, the baby was not breathing and was blue in color. A paramedic was breathing for him by breathing into his mouth and nose, and he was also pushing on the infant's small chest. The infant was getting CPR as well; and he didn't appear to have any sign of life either.
The drunken man and the pulseless baby were herded off to the triage area, and just before we could get in a breath, here came another ambulance with more victims from the same crash. They didn't appear to be seriously hurt, the woman and her boyfriend, but then the woman fell to the floor, where she then began seizing uncontrollably. I yelled for someone to pick up the convulsing woman off the floor and to get her to a bed in the treatment room, and I went to her side, where I did a quick, but thorough examination. The woman was bleeding from the top of her head, and she had a gaping wound in her cheek. It was possible that she had either a head injury or had seizures and had blacked out behind the wheel as she was driving. The man was screaming the name of his girlfriend, and he was obviously very distressed by the sight of her collapsing to the ground and then going into a full-blown seizure. I told him that she would be checked over, and that she would be fine, anything to try to reassure him.
I went between each patient, taking histories as best as I could, and checking on their conditions. The baby boy and woman were still being worked on, and both were still down. The drunken man was now quiet, but he was glowering at me, daggers in his eyes, and it made me uneasy. Better watch this fella, I remember thinking, as I looked at him, in case he tried to do anything to me; and if he did, I would probably whock him a good one with my cane, as a means of defending myself. The little girl was still unconscious, but doctors and nurses were hopeful that she would be okay once she was taken for MRI and x-ray scannings, and the woman who had the seizure now lay flaccid and unmoving on the table, as doctors and nurses examined her and tried to figure out what was going on with her. The boyfriend was standing beside her, a look of worry still etched upon his young face.
Just as I was about to enter each patient's information into the database on my computer, the tones went off again, signalling yet more cases coming in. A tire plant had caught on fire, and there had been an explosion; possibly up to ten workers were injured in the blast. GREAT! I thought, brushing the hair from my face; let's only add to the fun!! Wearily, I put the information aside, snapped off the computer I had just turned on, and went back to the emergency area, to wait for the arrival of the injured workers from the factory explosion.
It was like that from the time I had gotten there until I clocked out at five later that afternoon. There was no let up from the constant stream of patients coming through the E.R. doors. By the time I had clocked out (three hours late, mind you; I usually got off at two to three in the afternoon), I was so tired I was on the verge of collapse, and the idea of another hot, soaking bath and then climbing into my soft, warm bed sure sounded inviting to this bone-tired, worn-out nurse!
~Written by Louisiana M. Sandusky, R.N., on Monday, July 13, 2004, at 3:33 P.M., C.S.T.
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