i'd very much like to be believe that it's only my hospital that's like this, but medicine consults are the absolute worst. it's like bizarro world where i work; medicine doesn't try to diagnose things... they are way too focused on cutting first and thinking later. hey is that a superficial bump? let's call surgery to cut it open!
ring ring ring...
"surgery returning a page"
"hey, i'm calling in a consult. we've got a guy with an abscess that needs to be drained"
(note: this is the abbreviated version.. the actual consult involves useful details like "some guy with a medical history of hypertension, cataracts, and tonsillectomy in 1941 who presents with chest pain.... cardiac enzymes are negative x2, hemoglobin a1c is 5.9... ESR of 33...)
"is it draining?"
"yeah"
"ok so..."
"it was drained two days ago but i think it needs to be drained again. can you come do it?"
to make a long story short, what usually happens is that i ask a bunch of questions, #1 to find out what's really going on, #2 find any details for me to punt the consult to ortho, plastics, derm, etc, #3 see if i can delay the consult with a few studies. but in the end, someone has to be a doctor, so i usually just see the patient.
so i go see the guy. it's a firm growing mass. drainage had been attempted but nothing was expressed. interesting... oh he's also had unintentional weight loss and night sweats. oh and this "abscess" is rock hard. and there are two of them, located near a bunch of lymph nodes. and there's no surrounding erythema. and one of them is fixed. not painful.
it's not like i'm a great diagnostician. in fact i probably suck; there's a reason why i'm in surgery, and it's not to diagnose random congenital disorders or rule out #12 of my 15 point differential. anyway, the point is, come on man, there's a good chance there's more going on here than just "abscess, need I&D".
i know it goes both ways, and i know i've been forced to place my share of consults that make no sense, but i'll let an internist write about that in his or her own blog
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Medicine consults
Posted by scut monkey dance at 3:49 PM 0 comments
night at the museum
working nights with sick patients is kind of like the movie "night at the museum". it's interesting that ben stiller, who looks like an ugly monkey, is the star of the movie, mostly because as surgical interns, we do our stupid monkey dance for the chiefs on our service. go carry some specimen across the street, or see a consult, come to the OR now to retract, come in during the weekend and write all the progress notes for a service you aren't even on...
anyway, back to the topic. the reason why working with sick patients is like night at the museum is because these patients all sleep throughout the day, and when every other resident and attending leaves, and you're the only one in the hospital, the patients all wake up and start acting crazy. the fun ones are the delirious old guys; i usually take some time to talk to them, only because our conversations are great.
"where are you now sir?"
"i'm in my kitchen. i'm making a pizza."
"oh really, what toppings?"
"oh it'll be delicious, it has mushrooms and pepperoni. if you'll just let loose, i can get to the oven before it burns!"
"sir you're in the hospital, there's no pizza in the oven. you need to be restrained because you're confused."
"confused? what about my pizzas? they're gonna burn!"
"is it thin crust or deep dish?"
then there are the ICU patients who are happily crapping through a rectal tube during the day with their GCS of 3. as soon as sign out happens, they start trying to pull out lines, tubes, decide to stop peeing through their urinary catheter, start to go into afib+RVR. they're like the chimp in the movie who throws away the keys and makes the night terrible.
also playing a part is the know-it-all ICU nurse who roughly correlates with the teddy roosevelt character in the movie. brash, annoying, and doesn't know when to mind his own goddamn business and let people do their job. no i don't want to replace the bicarb. no he doesn't need blood now. no i don't want to give FFP. no i don't want to add another pressor. no i don't want more fluids. this guy made my night a living hell. he had this cordless phone and kept it with him at all times, so that he can talk to me as if i was standing right next to him. the funny thing is, he took a verbal order from an attending, didn't ask him why, then called me to question it. i'm like, dude, you took the verbal, either do it or ask the attending yourself. and he's like no way, i can't do that, i gotta go up the chain of command. i'm like you asshole, why do you protect the attending so goddamn much but you feel free to waste my time with your bullshit suggestions? and if you want to ask the attending why he wants to do something, especially if he told you to do it, and you're the one who wants to not do it, why the fuck are you asking me, the intern who's not even on the service, who's just trying to keep people alive for 12 hrs? at a certain point i just wanted to ask him straight up, do you hate me or something? why are you doing this to me? but i guess from his dumbshit perspective they were all "good thoughts" even though i ended up veto-ing almost all of them.
got off track again haha
Posted by scut monkey dance at 10:34 AM 0 comments
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
no guts no glory, right?
well here i am, into my 5th month of surgical training. i don’t know what kind of perverse rationalization and/or profound self delusion got me into this mess, but here i am, knee and elbow deep in soap suds enemas and the glorious, if not malodorous world of general surgery internship.
somehow, when i was a kid, i never imagined that i would be waking people up at 5 in the morning, asking them if they farted, pooped, or peed. or that i would sometimes be digging my finger into a demented senior citizen’s bumhole in a sisyphean effort to scoop out loose excrement from a massively dilated rectum.
Posted by scut monkey dance at 7:49 PM 0 comments
Monday, October 8, 2007
flick of the wrist
i have about 10 cases under my belt. picking out a lipoma is more fun than i thought. it’s like when you pick a good size booger. except when you pick a booger you don’t have to write a post op note, dictate an op note, write post op orders, or see your booger back in clinic in a week.
Posted by scut monkey dance at 9:50 PM 0 comments