Intensive

My anxiety level has never been higher for starting a monthly rotation than it was on March 31st. I have had a healthy fear of the intensive care unit forever, and an even greater fear for taking care of it's patients. When I volunteered at a hospital in college I would even get a little nervous if I was asked to help in the ICU waiting room just making coffee and cleaning up. Can you imagine how much more intense it is to be thinking about ventilator setting, pressors, and sedation? And while working on the general medicine hospital floors, the ICU seemed like a magical place where you send people you don't know how to, or can't, take care of anymore. Now, I'm it. My team is the one that gets called when doctors don't know how to, or can't, take care of the patients anymore. We're the end of the road. If we can't fix it, it's over. Talk about pressure!

Well, April first came around just like I knew it would. There was no avoiding it now. With lots of prayers for clarity I scanned my badge and entered "the unit". To my surprise, amidst the anxiety and nerves was a sense of calm and confidence. A God thing because I can think of a million reasons why not to feel calm or confident. Without too much trouble I made it through my first morning rounds. We all survived - me and my patients. Success! Normally, that is all that has been asked of my on my first day, but not only was this my first day, but I was also on call. I survived the normal day with my staff and my team to help me out, but what in the heck was I going to do when they all went home to their warm beds and left me alone with the pager all night long?

When the last resident said good-bye, my heart raced a little faster. It picked up tempo every time the pager went off. I was tachycardic when the page came from the ER letting me know they had an admission. Here we go. It's just me, my sweaty palms, and a patient that has just been intubated and put on a ventilator. As soon as I walked into the room the Respiratory Therapist looked at me, read off the most recent labs, and asked what I wanted to do with the ventilator settings. (What I really wanted to do, was run out of the room and let someone else make a decision so I don't kill this guy, but I don't think that was what she was hoping for.) Needless to say, I didn't run, and it all worked out fine. And, it was also good to get my first admission out of the way. Then came the second. Then a third. We all made it through the night - and it was a long night!

Now it's April 4th, and I'm a pro. Okay, not really, but definitely feeling better. Less overwhelmed. Less anxious. More confident. More knowledgeable.