Last Wednesday I was called in early for some overtime on top of my last night shift. It was a busy day and all of our beds were full and patient acuity was very high. Throughout the course of my 17 hours my patient assignment changed 4 times as patients and nurses came and went from my part of the unit. I found myself assigned to the units only triple room. At one point I had managed to transfer one my patients to another unit opening the only ICU bed in the hospital. It didn't stay open for long...
Within minutes I heard a code being called overhead on the telemetry. Of course I knew it would be coming to my room. Within a few minutes of his arrival the new patient went into cardiac arrest again. We worked on him for several hours: CPR, shock, IV meds, regaining a pulse, losing the pulse, lather, rinse and repeat...
The family came in said their goodbyes and time of death was called.
The part I neglected to mention until now, my two other patients sharing the room were fully awake and aware of the events of the night. They heard every word.
"You must really look at life as a precious thing," said one of my patients as I checked on him after it was all over. I could tell he was a little shaken by it as he himself had just returned from surgery for a potentially fatal aortic anneurysm. I mist admit that I felt a little guilty for being releaved that time didn't allow for much more than a short chat. But what do you say to that?
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