Newguy is out today. He and his wife are finding out the gender of their new baby, so he is going to the appointment. Well, Mrs. Newguy says they aren’t going to find out, but Newguy says he is going to cheat and sneak a peek at the ultrasound. He even has a plan and everything for how he is going to do it.
Nobody tell Mrs. Newguy, okay?
I’m working with a kid today. I did the math, and he was in diapers when I started in EMS. And he already has a bad attitude.
There is a difference between burned out and a bad attitude.
We get a call for a lady who is sick. It turns out the lady is visiting her daughter from Oregon, and has been confused, febrile, and weak for the past few days, and it is getting worse.
Daughter hands me an insurance card and says she needs to go to the hospital about 45 minutes away. While she is saying this, Babyface pipes in.
“Well, we could take her to Local Hospital, and they can just transfer her if needed, but they will probably just let her go if she just has a fever.”
Daughter looks excited, then goes on to explain that the sick lady is allergic to Tylenol and Penicillin, and has a diagnosis of primary biliary cirrhosis. No other medical problems though, which is good for a grandmother in her late seventies.
Finally we see the patient. She’s confused, sure enough. She’s pale, and the jaundice is pretty apparent in her sclera. (What is the plural of sclera? Is there one?) So, she’s sick, and probably needs to spend a day or two in the hospital for some IV antibiotics.
“Okay, we’ll take her to Westside Hospital. We are going to go bring our stretcher in here, and we’ll be out of the way.”
Babyface is absolutely apoplectic. “Why can’t we just take her to Local Hospital? It’s across the street. Westside is forty-five minutes away.”
I get stern with him. “I know where we are, and I know where the hospitals are, and we are going to take her to Westside Hospital.”
Later, at Westside, he decides to assert his position once again.
“Man, we should have just taken her to Local. This doesn’t make any sense.”
“What is primary biliary cirrohsis?”
“She’s probably an alcoholic, and she drank too much, and now her liver is shutting down.”
“Wrong. What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear that a person is confused, weak, and febrile?”
“Fair enough. Does the diagnosis of primary biliary cirrhosis change that? You still thinking sepsis? What about her jaundice?”
“I don’t care about her cirrhosis, she just has a fever.”
“No, her ammonia levels are high, and she needs lactulose. She is very confused, and only responds to verbal stimuli, which suggests hepatic encephalopathy, and she needs an ICU. Taking her to Local Hospital would have been a bad decision, and a waste of time.”
He was still mad at me for the rest of the shift.