Not a Myocardial Infarction
There is no other job quite like the night float. It is a meaningful meaningless job of sorts. You admit, you care for patients overnight, you hand them off in the morning and forget they ever existed. Other residents depend on your impression for continued management and yet form their own impression as soon as they see the patient. From that point on they can change whatever medications they deem unnecessary and the hard work you put in overnight is instantly dismissed and discredited.
It is Friday night here and instead of celebrating my wife’s birthday I am floating the hallways, like the ghost of Halloween. My fear of impending doom does not resemble that of a myocardial infarction but still obscures my ability to enjoy this first night and I try to relax. The Emergency room is quiet now. Shortly, a chubby fluid filled abdomen will walk through the doors reeking of alcohol and asking that we end whatever misery his last bottle caused.
Here comes the news….just got a call from the admitting Resident in the ER. I have a patient waiting downstairs, my fear of impending doom grows.
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