Probably my own stupid fault. The Gods of Call were listening.
My night was slow. One consult for most of the day. Had an extended dinner at the cafeteria. Hmm. It was wild rice, fried chicked, chicked quesadilla, salad and fries. Starbucks coffee.
Hey, I was hungry. And the food was free (free food oncall).
Even watched TV (Law & Order: SVU) from 7.30pm-10pm.
Made the mistake of commenting on how bored I was. I swear, there is a microphone somewhere in the internal medicine lounge. Because shortly after that, after I had retired to bed, I get this panicked call from the orthopod (orthopedic surgeon. But I like this name better; makes them sound like insects).
"Can you come help us with this patient? 67 year old lady, post-op day 3 laminectomy T10-L2. Unresponsive and tachycardic."
That effectively ruined my chance of sleeping. From the stat bloodwork, EKG and then head CT, followed by CT angio of the chest, etc etc.
As it turned out, she was unresponsive because her family kept clicking her PCA button for fear of discomfort. And gave her several boluses of fentanyl.
And the tachycardia was probably from a UTI.
Went to bed again at 3.30am. Another call at 4am. SOB (shortness of breath). Chest Xray. Congestive heart failure. Lasix lasix lasix. Pee pee pee. Feel better. Cured.
Decided to drive to Minneapolis for Dim Sum lunch (although it was pretty hairy driving 1.5 hours after having been awake 30 hours). Met up with friends from KL and Singapore. And ate my sorrows/frustrations away. Heh heh. 4o dollars later, I feel better.
Only in a sick and convoluted world such as medicine do you hear statements like:
"Wow, I lucked out last night. I manage to sleep 2 hours in a row!"
"I get to wake up late today; have to start work only at 6.30am."