Residency 3.5: Purple Team

Oh man, I've been so caught up in having a normal life that I forgot to post about my month on Purple Team. Maybe I've also blocked pieces of it out of my head. If I ever needed convincing to not do inpatient medicine full-time, this was it. My stress level is on high when I am in charge of four interns, five medical students, 18 patients, and have to run a code to boot. Frequent baked goods made things a little bit easier, but still.

Most of the crazy stories that I would love to tell you about this month would probably violate HIPAA in some form, but suffice it to say if I had one more rapid response called for a pseudoseizure while I was team leader, I might have exploded.

Nevertheless, even in the most hectic of rotations, when I never get a chance to sit down, or when I'm ready to throw the pager out the window or refuse to go see one more patient, there are still moments that remind me why I have the best job in the world.

We had a toddler with a dog bite below her eye that had to be admitted when it got infected. She was scared at first, but warmed up nicely when she saw my light-up frog. We were able to get her appropriate treatment and in 2 days, she was a brand new kid. Her parents were super sweet and understanding and sent me a thank you email after they had been discharged that made me forget about all the negative stuff that week.

We had a tiny baby who wasn't growing so she was admitted by her pediatrician. Typically failure to thrive babies are boring. We feed them, they eat, they grow, they go home. This one was different. She ended up with a fairly uncommon endocrine condition and after we changed her formula and started some medications, she, too, was able to grow just fine and go home. But it's that one in a hundred that keeps things interesting.

And now, I'm back to a clinic month and loving life, except for that stress of trying to find a job. Keep me in your prayers. And happy almost Advent!

The best laid plans

I had my whole day planned out. A perfect day off, really, Black Friday. Sleep in, do some shopping for Christmas gifts, set up the tree and Nativity set while blaring "Tennessee Christmas." Unfortunately, my body didn't cooperate. I thought my stomach ache last night was from Thanksgiving indulgence, but when I couldn't fall asleep and ended up running to the bathroom at midnight, hugging a trashcan, I realized that my day off wasn't going to be so perfect. I was just talking with Michelle the other day how we need to learn to be more docile. It's hard to admit, but I don't always have to be right. Whether it's letting my interns do something differently than I would, not getting somewhere on time, letting someone else pick the menu for a dinner party, getting stuck with an extra call shift, or whatever. Sometimes it's good for me not to get my way. It reminds me that Someone else is in charge, and I need to swallow my pride and try things His way. I guess I'll use today as practice, while I lay on the couch and stare at where my Christmas tree should be.

The pagers...

I'm counting this as a small success. Or maybe a not-so-small success. On Tuesday, I had the dubious honor of wearing the Team Leader pagers, which means all day long, I just pray not to hear the "whoop whoop" go off overhead. Cause that means someone either fainted while getting their blood drawn, or is dying. Or something in between. But I'm supposed to run to the rescue and then run the show. Like someone who could handle a really sick kid. Like someone who knows what they're doing. Like someone who doesn't throw hand off the pagers to the night team at 6:01 like they're infected with the plague. Anyways, back to the story. So we're all sitting around in the workroom in the afternoon, trying to keep our mess of a team from imploding, and I hear "Rapid Response..." announced overhead. So I run up to the room and--you guys, this was a big deal--I was calm. For the first time in the last two and a half years of being on the Code Team, my legs and voice weren't shaking when I arrived. I'm not kidding. I still have nearly a full blown panic attack any time I run to a code or have to transfer a kid to the PICU. But yesterday I felt like I at least had some handle on what was going on, and successfully ran the rapid response and dismissed everyone when it was over. Of course, this is probably due to the fact that this was the fourth pseudoseizure event this month, along with two actual status epilepticus patients, so I've probably just become decent at watching kids shake. But this also came on the heels of getting one of sick kids down to the PICU last Friday without calling a code, which, trust me, is an equally impressive feat. Don't get me wrong, I will still be super glad when I hand over those pagers for the last time, but I had to brag a little bit that at least I've gotten to the point where I don't have to give myself the Ativan.

City of God

Today we celebrate the many holy men and women who have gone before us. A rich soldier who gave it all away to become a beggar. A pediatrician who valued life above all things. A fisherman who stuck his foot in his mouth as often as he said something right. A priest who died in a prison camp. And so many others that go unnamed. I'm grateful to have them as examples, but also to think of what waits for us--the heavenly Jerusalem. Because this is not our home, and so often I feel like I don't belong. But I'll keep going, hoping that in some small way, I'm bringing Jesus to the world.