Irony

Your hospital doesn’t ever answer your med radio. Like, ever. You say that I am supposed to call in by telephone, but the number you want me to call gives me voice prompts that tell me to do several things:

  • “If this is a medical emergency, hang up and call 911.” Lady, I AM 911. The emergency already happened.
  • “Press two for English. Oprima siete para Espanol.” I’ve been in this field since the Clinton Administration, and I have yet to find the need to call a report in anything other than English. I have used Spanish, German, French, and even Sign Language to communicate on the scene of a call, but have yet to meet a nurse that doesn’t have a rudimentary understanding of the English language.
  • “Press one for billing inquiries. Press two for radiology scheduling…” Seriously. The chances this bill is getting paid in the first place is slim-to-none, and I sure ain’t the one that’s gonna pay it. And I sure as heck don’t have time to be paying attention to your voice prompts.

Further complicating the matter here are three more things: First, I do not carry my cell phone with me on scene. It stays in the ambulance. My friends and family know what I do for a living, and they know how to get in touch with me without calling or texting. Any communication I do can wait until I am done taking care of my patient. Second, my company does not issue me a cellphone to carry with me. They do issue me a radio, and there is one in the ambulance. The same one that I try calling you on. Lastly; my employer requires me to call reports to a hospital on a recorded line. Interestingly enough, the 800mHz radio channels are recorded while my phone is not.

So I don’t call on the phone. But you know that. And you get mad every single time I show up with a patient who would probably do well to sit in triage until shift change. And every single time, I tell you the three points above. I don’t have a phone in the back. The company does not issue me a phone. My company policy is that all reports have to be recorded.

We should agree to just stop this rigamarole. For real. It gets tiring.

So when I show up all like “Surprise! A paramedic brought a sick person to your emergency room!” you get all mad and hussy and make me wait half an hour before you come into the room to take report. You aren’t fooling anyone. We all know the ER is more than half-empty, because we saw the lack of people in beds when we walked in. We know you aren’t busy, because we heard the conversation you were having with your coworkers. We heard all about those recipes you found on Pinterest, what your friend said about your boyfriend’s best friend’s girlfriend on Facebook. We heard about your new favorite TV show, New Girl.

We heard it all because your nurse’s station is literally behind the room you assigned this patient to.

But it’s okay. This guy is kinda cool. We chatted about his golf game while you thought you were upsetting me by making me wait. If you hadn’t been an uppity bitch, he wouldn’t have invited me to play golf with him.

In Augusta.

At freaking Augusta National. For free.

So, thank you. I appreciate your disdain for me. I enjoyed your punishment.

A comment from Flash Larry on “Who is the customer / You make the call”

So Flash Larry blew up my blog, again, with one of his comments. Really though, I appreciate your comments, Flash. Ladies and gentlemen, I have a notion that Flash is more knowledgeable than most of us could hope to be.

My previous post questioned what the correct action would be when an EMS unit is told by a healthcare provider and a company policy to transport a patient to a certain hospital, and what the consequences of transporting that patient to a hospital that is not equipped to handle the specific problem. In this instance, interventional cardiology.

I have pieced together Flash’s reply, and added my comments as well.

He begins:

 The issue here is one of informed consent. In my state, a patient has the absolute right to be transported to the facility of his choice with one exception.

 This is always a good topic, the one of “informed consent.” What exactly is “informed consent?” Are we to inform each patient each time we establish an IV that there is the risk of catheter shear, which could cause an embolism? Are we to inform the patient, or family member, each time we administer dextrose that there is the risk of infiltration, which could cause tissue necrosis and the possibility of loss of the affected limb? I think that might be going a little too far.

I do not think informing the patient of their current medical problem and the care that is necessary is going too far. We get into that in just a little bit. Stand by.

 The exception, which bears discussion: The regulations state that if the EMS service medical director has established a “reasonable distance” for transports that the medical director can override the patient’s wishes if the patient wants to go further than the “reasonable distance.” The intent of the regulation was to prevent a patient from demanding transport to a distant city. It is my understanding that the medical directors of some services are establishing “reasonable distances” that insure that patients go to particular hospitals of their choice. The matter has not yet been litigated but at some point, it will be and then a jury will determine what constitutes a reasonable distance. That will be interesting both in the courtroom and in the newspapers.

 Flash answered my question before I had time to ask it: Just how far is a “reasonable distance?”

My company has a policy that states, in essence, we will transport a patient to any hospital in a county that is contiguous with ours. And that seems reasonable. In the previous scenario, Roundthecorner Medical Center and St. Elsewhere are in two contiguous counties.

I once worked in a city in which ambulance service was provided by two privately owned hospitals. The hospitals and EMS services got along very well, because they had the patient’s best interest in mind. While I worked for both services at the same time, it was routine to transport patients to the hospital of their choice, regardless of what was on the side of my ambulance. “Which hospital would you like to go to?” became a staple question during my assessments.

 I don’t know what the laws are in your states but here it appears that the ambulance service rule is denying the patient the right to informed consent, which is actionable at law in several ways. As all of you know, patient consent is required before you treat them. Under the law of my state, if a mentally functioning patient is informed as to what you’re doing and doesn’t express opposition, then consent is presumed (this arose out of a patient who did not expressly consent but did not object to care and then turned around and sued for failure to obtain consent. The appellate courts ruled that the plaintiff should have expressed opposition at the time of care rather than suing later).

 Frankly, I do not know the specific laws in my state, but I will be a good little blogger and go research them.

When the word “actionable” is used, I have to ask “actionable against whom?” As far as I can tell, it is my duty to provide the informed consent, and I am responsible if my actions violate the law, regardless of company policy. If my company policy requires that I physically touch each and every patient, yet I physically touch a patient who has refused my touching, then I have commited battery, and no company policy is going to provide me coverage in a court of law.

A far-fetched scenario, I know.

However, the second part of consent is that it must be informed. The patient must be informed of his condition and risks of treatment. Therefore any rule that states otherwise is contrary to law.

Therefore, this patient should be informed that his EKG shows what may be an imminently serious cardiac condition that is usually effectively treated by a particular procedure, be told what the different facilities can and cannot do, what your recommendation is and what you’d do with another patient in the same condition for whom you had not received specific orders. It is not necessary to tell him that they screwed up the 12-lead but that yours shows something different than what they got when they took it and things might have changed (they do, actually).

The patient is then able to make his own informed choice as to where he should go.

It’s not necessary to suggest, then or later, that the transferring facility made any errors. The most important thing is that your documentation supports your decision.

 The hospital in question, Roundthecorner Medical Center, can perform cardiac catheterization, but cannot perform interventional cardiology. Most often what happens when they perform a catheterization in which a stent is needed, is that the hospital will place an intra-aortic balloon pump, then have the patient transferred to a hospital that is capable of PCI.

While it is not necessarily my purview, I can’t help but wonder if RMC informs those patients “Hey, we couldn’t fix this problem when you came in the door, and we knew that, but we decided to ‘take a look’ anyway. Now we have to put this complicated piece of equipment in your aorta to help your heart pump, wait on a receiving facility to actually accept you, and wait on an equipped, knowledgeable ambulance crew to come transfer you. Sorry we didn’t send you there sooner.”

Whenever I am handed paperwork from any healthcare facility, I look at it, and make not of what they found. I always perform my own tests because, as you say, things change. Things change frequently and often.

 If you do not proceed in terms of informed consent, you and your company (under the doctrine of respondeat superior) could be held liable at law for any injury to the patient caused by taking him somewhere he didn’t want to do or by not informing him of his conditions and the destination options. As well, the paramedic could be in danger of losing his license for violating state regulations. I assure you, if it comes to a court case or administrative hearing, the ambulance service will NOT send in their owners and managers to say, “It’s not his fault, we told him to do that.” They will say, “We never, ever, ever would tell one of our employees to do anything that would be detrimental to patient care or in violation of the law.”

 For those that are interested or don’t know, respondeat superior is Latin for “let the master answer.” In many cases, the employer has to answer for the actions of their employees. It is also known as the “Master-Servant Rule.” Essentially, the employee cannot be held liable for actions that he performs when those actions are required by his employer. Actions that are outside the scope of the law, however, do not make the employee immune to prosecution for those actions.

If, however, the employer says, as Flash alluded, “We never, ever, ever would tell one of our employees to do anything that would be detrimental to patient care or in violation of the law.” and the employer can prove with company documentation that the opposite is true, the employee’s actions could still be actionable.

Ignorance of the law is not a defense.

 Which brings me to a question, CCC? Is that policy that you specified actually in writing anywhere, or is it word of mouth? (see above paragraph if it’s word of mouth or less than explicit)

 This policy is explicit. While not in an employee handbook, it is in writing elsewhere.

 If, on the other hand, you transport the patient to the appropriate facility (18 miles away) WITH the patient’s informed consent, and most especially if you are proven right and the company takes an adverse personnel action against you, the company may be liable at law in a lawsuit brought by the employee for creating a policy that violates state law. I can also assure you that public opinion would not be on the side of the company either, if it became public. Nor, I think, would the patient support the company’s adverse personnel action. Nor, I think, would the transferring office (who must have some reason for wanting them transported to a particular facility) be interested in having it made public.

 Employment law in my state allows an employer to terminate an employee for virtually anything. That isn’t to say that the employer would not be liable for creating a policy that violates state law, however.

I believe the public should know what we are doing, and why we are doing it. But that’s just me.

 Always, always, always do that which is in the best interests of the patient and what complies with the law.

 I have always done what is in the best interest of the patient. While I did not take the Hippocratic oath when I began working on an ambulance, I believe whole heartedly to “do no harm” is the ultimate goal. “Doing harm” can be something as simple as transporting a STEMI patient to a hospital that does not perform PCI, at least in my eyes.

 One of my more famous moments was when I was dispatching one day (yes, I did that too) and with all my units tied up, had a walk-in to the station having a possible heart attack. After warning my units to hold their traffic, I put the patient on high-flow oxygen, went back in and called a competing private service to come get the patient out of our main station. It was the only option I had. It was in the best interest of the patient. Fortunately my boss at the time ever only asked one question when you went outside the box, and that was exactly that. Was it in the best interests of the patient? As he said, every time, “Patient care comes first.”

That’s the way it should be.

I am glad your former boss saw the patient’s well-being as the first and foremost responsibility. Even though we compete with each other, the ultimate goal is the same: take care of people.

Patient care always comes first.

Thanks for your comments, Flash.

Who is the customer/You make the call

So; a scenario:

You respond to a local urgent care center where a Nurse Practitioner (there is no physician on staff) shows you to a middle-aged male who came in complaining of chest pain. The NP informs you that she performed a 12-lead, but didn’t see anything “really too wrong.” She also informs you that she has already called report to Roundthecorner Medical Center, and they are awaiting your arrival.

Roundthecorner Medical Center is one mile away.

After loading the patient in your ambulance, you perform your own 12-lead and almost fall over when you notice the humongous ST-segment depressions in the anterior, lateral, and septal leads.

Roundthecorner Medical Center does not perform interventional catheterization. They can perform caths, but can’t place stents. (Don’t get me started on that one.)

St. Elsewhere is 18 miles away, and they have the whole host of cardiology services.

For the sake of argument, your patient is stable enough to make the trip to St. Elsewhere. I’m not too interested in treatments, just the next decision to be made.

Your company policy says you must transport the patient to the hospital that the customer (in this case the NP) selected, and you are not supposed to even attempt to persuade the patient to choose another hospital.

Do you:

A: Take the patient to Roundthecorner Medical Center

B: Inform the patient that he is having “the big one” and transport him to Roundthecorner Medical Center

C: Inform the patient that he is having “the big one” and suggest he goes to St. Elsewhere

D: Suggest to the patient that he go to St. Elsewhere as opposed to Roundthecorner Medical Center, without telling him why.

 

I’m interested in reading your choice, and why you made that choice.

I’ve always held that the patient is the true customer, and the one we should be most focused on. I’ll let you all know what I would choose some time in the next few days.

Not really a stabbing

The “stabbing” that we sent 12 people to, blaring their sirens and flashing their lights, turns out to be a goofball who poked himself in the top of the hand with a steak knife.

Some college-aged moron was playing the “knife game” while drunk.

I have seen the future, and we are doomed.

Nevertheless, he actually bled a good amount. One of his roommates was kind enough to bandage everything up before the fire department got there, and he did a darned good job of it, too. Like, 4×4 dressing and kling wrapped, and tied in a knot.

The bleeding is controlled, and not a single spot show through the bandage.

I think the roommate said something about being a boy scout, but he was slurring his words pretty hard. Regardless, I’m not one to remove a bandage just to look at a wound, when the bleeding is already controlled.

Laziness, maybe. Maybe not.

He wants to go to the hospital across the county to be near his mommy. If I were drunk and stabbed myself while playing the knife game on a dare, the last place I would want to be is near my mother. It’s a low-priority call, so Slimm jumps in the back and I drive.

I catch about 20 minutes of a Rush Limbaugh rerun on the way.

At the hospital, after dropping him off, my Slimm is approached by the doctor on staff.

Hey, did you guys even look at the cut on his hand?”

No, not really. The bleeding was controlled by the time we got there, and the bandage was already on. We didn’t want to remove the bandage just to look at it.”

I’m hiding around the corner, but within earshot, working on my first cup of coffee.

Well, you guys should have looked at it. It’s only like, two centimeters long and not very deep. It will probably only take one stitch, but we might be able to glue it.”

Oh, so you guys can handle it? Or do we need to run him down to the trauma center?”

I choked on that sip of coffee.

IV access

Look, I’m pretty good at starting IVs. Seriously. No boasting about it. I was lucky enough earlier in my career that my Paramedic partners always let me get the ‘first stick’ on each patient.

I got a few, blew a few, and missed a whole lot more. But that’s okay, because the Paramedic was there with more experience and sticks to get the line that I couldn’t.

I do the same thing with Slimm; he gets to stick every patient first. And he is good at it, too. He gets easily 80% of his attempts on the first try. No kidding. There are the ones he doesn’t think he can get, so he defaults to me. We are working on him trying the harder sticks, but he is hesitant some times.

Between the two of us, when a person needs IV access, we usually don’t have any trouble getting it done.

I enjoy when a patient tells me they are a “hard stick” only to be surprised when I snake an 18 in their forearm on the first try. Blindfolded. Left handed. Going over railroad tracks. In a tornado.

Which isn’t to say that we attempt IV access on lots of patients. I don’t believe in the “if you are sick enough for an ambulance, you are sick enough for an IV” train of thought, though I won’t fault those who believe that.

We probably stick 25 percent of our patients. And between the two of us, I would imagine that we are successful 95-98 percent of the time. But we should be that good, right?

That being said, when we roll into the Emergency Room with a patient who is in need of IV access, that doesn’t have it, you can rest assured that A) we tried several times, and B) we weren’t successful for whatever reason. So the smug looks and comments really aren’t necessary.

Before anyone makes snide comments, they should probably do so after they get the stick on the first time, and before they call the physician into the room to put in a central line. Especially when the patient’s arms look like a pincushion after eight attempts.

On a similar note, when we roll into the Emergency Room with a patient who does not have an IV, and there isn’t any evidence of EMS attempts, then you can safely assume that we did not think stabbing a patient just for the sake of stabbing the patient was necessary. And when you look at me or my partner with a rude face and say “these patients really need to have an IV before they come in here,” don’t be surprised when we look back at you with the exact same face you are giving us and say “Why? To make your job easier?”

Have a nice day.

Toe to toe

Local Hosspital, this is Medic 7, local hospital, come in please.”

Medic seven, go ahead.”

Local Hospital, I have an ETA of approximately 10 minutes. This is a 56 year old female STEMI alert. He chief complaint is general malaise for several days. We have 4 millimeters of elevation in V1, 5 millimeters in V2, and 3 millimeters in V3. The rhythm is a sinus, at a rate of 65, without ectopy. Her blood pressure is normotensive, she has had her aspirin, and is receiving nitro every 4 minutes. I am transmitting her 12-lead now. We will see you in 10.”

Medic seven, we’ll see you in 10. Local Hospital clear.”

This whole activating the cath lab from the field sounds great and all, but it doesn’t work when you have a doctor who thinks your job is to deliver his paycheck.

Neither myself, or my paramedic partner-of-the-day expected to find a STEMI on this lady, but we did. An anteroseptal one at that. So we did what paramedics do: we treated the patient.

We gave her aspirin, and we administered nitroglycerin. We performed serial 12-leads. Every 4 minutes, about 2 minutes after each nitro, I pressed the ’12-Lead’ button on our Lifepak 15. And I set up the automatic transmit option, so that Local Hospital received each 12-lead about 30 seconds after I did.

And what do you know. Her ST-segment returned to baseline. And what else do you know? Hotshot new doctor wouldn’t activate the cath lab. Because the last 12-lead showed no elevation.

Well, duh. I put a chemical band-aid on her, but now she might need some PCI.

“She doesn’t have any ST elevation now, so let’s put her in room 9.”

“She did have elevation, but you are right, she doesn’t have any now.”

“It’s not a STEMI.”

“It was a STEMI.”

“I’m the doctor, I know what I’m doing.”

“Then you should know what I was doing in the ambulance.”

“You were giving nitroglycerin to a patient without chest pain.”

“Nitroglycerin causes vasodilation, and reduces myocardial oxygen demand, which can help return an ST segment to the baseline, just like it did on her ECG. Y’all do PCI in the ER now?”

“She doesn’t need a cath.”

“She needs a cardiologist.”

“I will make that call.”

I never did find out what happened with that patient. I hope the hotshot doctor called cardiology. I won’t pretend to be a doctor, but I can prove the lady was having a STEMI.

She’s hotshot’s patient now.

 

An EMS humor skit

Occasionally, I will take a seat in a hospital EMS room to finish documentation, or grab a cup of coffee, whatever. Catholic Medical Center has the most awesome EMS room ever, complete with leather couches, fresh coffee, and various breakfast sundries.

I can also encounter crews from other services, and every once in a while, I run into someone I haven’t seen in a long time.

So fast-forward to this morning. Setting: Catholic Medical Center EMS room. Characters: three EMS personnel, a young paramedic, and a still young, but more seasoned-appearing EMT wearing the same uniform shirt. It was obvious they didn’t work together very much, as they didn’t have that “partner” look about them. I am also present, albeit in more of a supporting role with minimal speaking.

Enter paramedic and EMT stage right.

“That was a pretty good call.” reports paramedic.

“Meh. I’ve had better and worse. No big deal.” replies the seasoned EMT partner.

“I feel really comfortable running the bad calls, you know.”

“That’s good.”

“You know, I may have only been a paramedic for 9 months, but I had a really good instructor in school, and I had really good preceptors when I was doing third rides, and I had the best FTO this side of Giza when I got hired here, so really, it’s like I’ve been a paramedic for two or more years.”

Quizzically, I raise an eyebrow, and turn my attention away from the ESPN report on Euro 2012. “Did this guy just say that?” I ask myself.

Glancing at me with a wry smile, and obviously providing more rope for the paramedic, the seasoned paramedic asks his partner: “So how long were you an EMT before you started paramedic school?”

“Oh, I went all the way through. I didn’t stop going to school. I wanted to make sure I had the best education I could get. I wanted to go to CCEMT-P school, but they said I needed ‘experience’ first.”

“Interesting” is the EMT”s reply, giving me another slight smile and a wink.

Exit me stage left, returning the smile.

“Y’all be safe, now.”

You don’t have to listen

So I take a “trauma” into the local hospital, which is trying to attain a level 2 trauma center status. I didn’t think we needed the surgeon in the room, but hey, whatever.

As we wheel this patient into the trauma room, I make eye contact with the doctor, whom I know fairly well, and begin to give my report, when some lady I don’t know at all, pipes up.

“Stop talking. Just move the patient to the hospital stretcher, and let the doctors do their primary assessment. If they have any questions for you, they will ask. After the patient is moved over to our bed, you need to leave the room, and can’t come back in.”

That’s just poor customer service. But then again, I’m not a customer. I’m just an ambulance driver.

I have had the pleasure (or the misfortune of others?) to transport patients to well-known, Level I trauma centers in 3 different states, and have done ride-alongs in a fourth state. I have never before been “shushed” while delivering a report.

In the future, I am going to talk. I am going to tell you who the patient is, how old he/she is, what happened, what I have found in my assessment, what interventions I have performed, and what kind of response there was from my interventions. If you watch carefully, and pay attention, this will all be done in about 30 seconds, whilst moving the patient to your bed.

So, yeah, I’m going to talk, just like I have in the past. If you don’t want to listen, so be it.

Doctors don’t know best.

It was a cool, blustery night. The air had just begun to turn crisp, and leaves had started to change color and fall. I was a relatively new employee at Local Ambulance Company, but with several years of experience as a paramedic in a very busy system.

We were dispatched to a squalid house on a dark street in a seedy neighborhood for a person with difficulty breathing. We arrived as the local fire engine crew was walking inside, with the ALS rescue pulling up behind us.

 

Inside, through the haze of animal hair and cigarette smoke, we found a very sickly appearing woman.

Classic CHF.

She is sitting tripod, and I can hear her drowning from across the room. It’s cool outside, yet she is sweating as though she recently sprinted a mile in summer heat. This lady hasn’t walked briskly, much less sprinted, in years. Local Ambulance Company didn’t have CPAP on the trucks yet, and we were probably too late for that anyway.

We quickly moved her to the ambulance, and Sally began giving judicious amounts of nitroglycerin while I obtained IV access, as it appeared there was an impending cardiac arrest.

My patient was obviously tired, and I was quickly running out of options. The 80 milligrams of furosesmide I gave wouldn’t work for a long time, if it would work at all. The nitroglycerin wasn’t working. I looked my patient in the eyes and asked her a question.

“I need to put a tube through your nose, and into your lungs, to help you breathe. Would that be okay with you?”

She was too tired to mutter an affirmative response, but her face told me everything I needed to know. She wanted to live, and she was willing to let me do whatever it took.

So I did it. I intubated her through her nose, and began performing ventilations with a BVM. Wouldn’t you know it, her color improved. Her lungs, while still wet, began to dry somewhat. Her blood pressure came down. She was improving.

Any time I can check “improved” on the PCR, I feel like I have done something.

At the hospital, an interesting thing happened. I was confronted by a physician whom I had never seen before.  This is not Local Hospital, and I am not very familiar with staff at this hospital.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m bagging the patient, sir. What do you mean?”

“Who the hell told you that it was okay to nasally intubate a patient?”

“I apologize, I didn’t know I needed permission.”

“That is out of your scope of practice, young man, and you can believe your training supervisor is going to hear about this!”

What’s interesting, is that nasal intubation is not excluded by my state’s protocols. In fact, all forms of intubation are considered to be within my scope of practice.

But what does he know, he’s just a doctor.

My training supervisor called me and told me I did a good job.

Stupid doctor.

Doctor May I?

A middle aged-woman calls 911 because she feels faint and vomited. Usually a stupid call.

On scene, the patient presents like death eating a cracker. Absent radial pulses, and cool, pale and moist skin. Her blood pressure is unable to be auscultated. The NIBP says why: 62/37.

Heart rate is 43. Monitor shows a very pretty sinus bradycardia, with normal intervals and measurements. The 12-lead doesn’t show anything fun. It’s unremarkable.

On the way to the ambulance, the NIBP cycles again. 56/33. Sinus bradycardia at 41.

An IV is established, and 0.5mg of atropine is administered, with a brief increase in rate to the low 50s. Atropine is repeated several minutes, with a steady rate noted of 52. NIBP cycles again. 58/40.

Heart rate falls again, and remains steady at 45.

Dopamine is prepared, while the medic contacts Local Hospital on the radio for orders. She weighs 145 pounds, the patient says.

“I’d like to give a dopamine infusion at 5 micrograms per kilo per minute. My patient weighs 66 kilograms. A total of 1mg of atropine has been administered with no significant change.”

“Okay, ambulance technician. Hang on while I find a doctor.”

Another IV is established while the medic waits.

“Ambulance technician, this is Local Hospital, come in please.”

“Yeah, go ahead, Local Hospital.”

“Doctor McEmmdee denied your request for orders. Advise of any changes enroute.”

 

At the hospital, Doctor McEmmdee says to the paramedic: “Hmm. Dopamine was a good idea. Radioperson didn’t exactly tell me why you wanted to give dopamine. I’ll write the orders now.”

 

I picture the conversation between Radioperson and Doctor McEmmdee going like this:

“Doctor McEmmdee, are you having a good night? Can I get you some coffee, maybe change the channel to the USC game, or rub your back?”

“No thanks, Radioperson. I want to watch the Tennessee game, and I have a fresh cup of coffee.”

“Okay. Well, have a good night. Oh, by the way, sumdood on an ambulance wants to hang a bag of dopamine for some reason. I don’t really know why. What do you want me to tell him?”

“Tell him no. Just transport. Those silly paramedics are always wanting to do too much.”

“Yeah, I know. Silly paramedics. What do they know?”

 

So from now on, I will be calling on the phone, and speaking personally with a physician when I need/want/request medication orders.

Either that, or I will be pushing for more advanced standing orders. Like ones that include dopamine.

Is mine the only service that requires calling for dopamine? I wonder.