I managed to make a mistake, argue with the attending and the chief about how to fix it, and get myself cursed out in front of what seemed like most of the ICU – a very attentive audience. Good thing I was wearing a surgical mask at the time, or my expressions of dismay and resentment would have been even more transparent, and I would have gotten in even more trouble. It ended well for the patient, at least. I still maintain that my solution would have worked, but in retrospect, arguing with the chief and the attending, at the same time, when I was in the wrong to start with, and they were having a bad day, was not exactly wise. By the end of the day we seemed to be on speaking terms, I with them, and they with me; which I suppose says something about how well we get along together, to be able to have a gigantic fight and still keep going.
Apart from that central explosion, nothing much else happened. I’m fortunately not on call tonight, which is ok with me, because the trauma pager is going off with one unhelmeted motorcycle or ATV accident after another. You may conclude that the weather is quite fine. Tomorrow morning I will have further evidence that young men are fools (for not wearing helmets) and/or sissies. (Because they all scream and cry about nonexistent or minor injuries. No one makes as much noise as the 20-yr-old guy with a broken clavicle and a lot of road rash; a woman the same age with an open tib-fib, or an older man with an open femur, or an elderly lady with 10 broken ribs, will all be much more stoic. I have had no sympathy for young men since the day that one of them had me persuaded he had a broken clavicle, a dozen broken ribs, and a broken femur, from the amount of noise he made; after giving him dilaudid, we got through CT and xray, and found that he had a cracked clavicle, and nothing else. Pfui.) (And I’ve injured myself in sports too, and didn’t scream for more than five minutes, so I’m allowed to talk.)