Monday, 21 September 2015

Call Gods Madness

The Call Gods have many different ways of torturing me.  Sometimes they send me nasty surgical cases, sometimes they send me nasty patients, and sometimes they send me nasty patients with nasty cases.  And then there are those exceedingly rare occasions they send what seems like the entire city's population to my trauma bay all at the same time.  But whatever they do, they always seem to do it with an evil sneer.  I can almost see them laughing in pure murderous glee as my third gunshot wound to the head and/or abdomen of the day is dropped on my doorstep.  I swear I can hear them snickering as they drop off yet another drunk spitting asshole who fell and bonked his head on the street while leaving the pub.

I definitely heard them loud and clear when Mr. Screamer (not his real name™) came in.

It was a typical warm Saturday during the summer.  My kids were outside playing, enjoying lemonade and a run through the sprinkler, while I was trapped under the warm glow of the fluorescent lights in the trauma bay.

Oh, the joy.

The patient load was typical: a motorcyclist had lost control and crashed into the ground (the ground won, as usual); several car accident victims were brought in; a middle-aged couple had been brought in, both of them having been stabbed multiple times by their PCP-using son.  In the midst of all the barely-controlled chaos, I heard a blood-curdling scream followed by a string of expletives that would have made even Tyrion Lannister blush.  It was coming from elsewhere in the department, and I realised with a smile that all of my patients were (surprisingly) behaving themselves, so this bad character was apparently not one of mine.

The emergency docs must be having a fun time trying to corral that mess, I chuckled to myself, reveling in the fact that it wasn't my problem (this time).  Better them than me.

If you aren't hearing the dramatic "dun dun DUN" foreshadowing music yet, then you haven't been paying attention.

A few hours later when the next fall victim was brought in, Mr. Screamer was still at it, flinging obscenity at anyone who came near his room.  At this particular moment he was cursing at the security guards who were tasked with making sure he didn't harm himself or anyone else.  However, their presence seemed only to aggravate him further.  One of the nurses came in to the trauma bay laughing and told me the guy was one of their alcoholic frequent fliers who was back for the second time that week.

"FUCK YOU, MOTHERFUCKERS!  COME HERE AND I'LL FUCK YOUR ASS YOU PIECE OF SHIT MOTHERFUCKING FUCKER!"

I silently laughed once again, apparently still oblivious to the Call Gods' warning signs.

When my phone rang at 3 AM, it didn't seem any different than the 395 other calls I had gotten that day.  (dun dun DUN)  The ring tone was the same and the voice on the other end seemed the same, but it turned out that this was the Call Gods calling.

"Hey Doc, so you know that guy who's been screaming bloody murder all night?  Dr. Dumbass (not his real name, though it should be™) just called me to say that he had apparently been beaten up, and he has a subarachnoid haemmorhage on his brain CT.  He wants us to consult on him and admit him."

The profanity that came to mind would have been perfectly suitable coming out of Mr. Screamer.

The guy spent the next 10 days in hospital with me.  You may expect that he calmed down once he sobered up, but HAHAHAHAHA no.  For his entire stay his demeanor vacillated between "Fuck you, Doc" and "I'm going to shit on your floor" before I was finally able to discharge him.

I should have seen it coming, but I obviously was trying my best to ignore them.

Fuck you, Call Gods.  Fuck you.

33 comments:

  1. Just another day on my neuro unit!!!

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  2. Haha. Don't taunt the call Gods. You will get hurt. Hopefully but doubtfully your patient will be more responsible. Sounds like he needs psychiatric help.

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  3. here, it is not uncommon for people that aggressive to find themselves receiving a bit of an attitude adjustment, for the safety of the medical personnel.

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  4. I just can't imagine why someone would hurt a sweet man like that.

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  5. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  6. I find fentanyl and versed a wonderful cocktail mixed with a little ativan .

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    Replies
    1. I'm sure they talk a more direct game than they actually play, but it has been mentioned that sleeping patients give you no trouble.

      Delete
  7. Don't use foul or abusive language. Let everything you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them.

    Ephesians 4:29

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    Replies
    1. Well that's a first.

      I can't tell if you're talking to me or Mr. Screamer. If your biblical message was intended for me, I have but one response:

      Fuck off.

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    2. Good Surgical Practice, sets out the standards expected of all surgeons. It states that surgeons should be mindful that their behavour serves as a role model to junior doctors.

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    3. Yes but most doctors are adults.

      Most adults curse.

      Get the fuck over it.

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    4. Swearing by doctors could affect colleagues and even damage relationships with patients. You're OK with that?

      Delete
    5. I don't curse in front of my patients, though I speak like normal adults speak with my colleagues. I treat my trainees and students with the proper respect.

      That said, last I checked, this is a fucking blog, not a hospital. And more to the point, it's my fucking blog. What I say and how I say it is up to me.

      I think I've made my position crystal clear.

      Delete
    6. *goes on blog called docbastard* OH MY HEAVENS WHAT LANGUAGE!!!!1!!
      Really, Nonnie.

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    7. I don't know about you, but I'd be quite happy to trade being subjected to the occasional colorful metaphor for a competent surgical job.

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    8. Speaking of it being your blog - I've just noticed that I got re-directed today. You have your own domain now: "docbastard.net". Maybe this has happened for months now & I've just been to slow to notice.

      Anyway, it seems like good news - I guess you're sticking around!

      Ugi

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    9. Usually I am super nice and supportive to everyone but even I have to speak up sometimes. Honestly I love this blog and I get so annoyed seeing people write obnoxious, stupid, irrelevant shit on the comments hiding behind anonymous screen names. If you don't like the cussing, go away. If you don't understand the stories or there isn't enough detail for you, find another blog. Don't ruin something great for those who love it. To the rest of you who are great commenters and to the Doc, thank you for being a part of my life in a small way. :)

      Delete
    10. I'm pretty sure all those comments are made from that dumb troll anyhow.

      Delete
    11. Melissa: That makes you a sheeple.

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    12. Come on, John. "Sheeple"? Really? I almost deleted this comment, but I'm going to leave it up so everyone else can have the same hearty laugh at you that I did.

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    13. I'm sorry? I'm just a nanny with a masters in family counseling, so maybe I'm just not as well-educated as this anonymous John person. But I am pretty sure 'sheeple' isn't in the dictionary.

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    14. And as for being whatever a 'sheeple' is... Bite me. DocBastard is providing comic relief and I appreciate humor.

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    15. No, Melissa, John is not more educated than you. Trust me. ;-)

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    16. we would have to look pretty hard to find someone cornboy IS more educated than.

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    17. Melissa: I would be concerned if your 'masters degree' proved to be from a non-accredited institution, or if your only training relevant to the problem being treated was through workshops outside of a degree program. I would also be concerned if you presented yourself as a credentialed “diplomate” or other certifications offered by self-credentialing membership associations rather than by national professional organizations, or claimed board certifications other than those managed by national professional associations.

      If you don't believe what I'm saying just ask Dr.Philli[ DeFina

      Delete
    18. Well rest assured that my 'masters degree' is from University of Maryland and is proven by the diplomas hanging on my bedroom wall. :) as are both of my undergraduate degrees.

      I think you are just being a difficult butthead for no reason.

      Delete
    19. Well trolls do tend to be difficult buttheads.

      Delete
    20. I've been in the hospital a number of times in the last few years fighting cancer. My favorite doctors have been those with somewhat colorful language who tell semi-inappropriate jokes. I would much rather have a doctor like that than one without a sense of humor and a stick shoved so far up their ass they've given themself a lobotomy. A doctor's competence is much more important than their personality.

      Delete
    21. Seriously? You go on a private blog with the word 'bastard' incorporated into the name and you have an issue with the language? In case you missed it, DocBastard wasn't swearing at anyone. You must be a clodpole. Or maybe you're one of the wise elders of Chelm who managed to escape.

      Wednesday

      Delete
  8. When my appendix flared up, and I went to the ER to have an appendectomy, I really wasn't in a whole lot of pain. It felt like cramps (except that I'm in my 60s). I'd say 2 or 3 on the scale of 10. I came into the ER about 8PM and they were going to fit me into the surgery schedule around 1AM. No problem. Nothing had burst or threatened to do so.

    EVERYBODY who came into the room asked if I wanted morphine. I had had morphine before (when I had a kidney stone) and it's wonderful stuff, but I declined--I didn't need it, and I wanted to keep my wits about me. They kept asking. I was fine reading my book and I kept saying thanks, but no thanks.

    When I got home, I mentioned the repeated "pushing" of morphine and my older brother, who is an ER doc, said, "That's standard practice, to keep you quiet and out of their hair."

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    Replies
    1. which of course has started a trend of opiate junkies claiming pain and wanting to go to the ER.

      sometimes you can't win for losing.

      Delete

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