Here's another guest post from the infamous Jane Sage:
I'm retired you know. I volunteered to come in out of the kindness of my heart. The night shift Rt, the infamous Rick Frea, told me he basically played Zuma Blitz all night, so I figured -- unless he was jinxed (fingers crossed) -- I'd have a good day. Now there's three hours left to my 12 hour shift, the bosses are finally gone, I click on the Internet, start a game of Zuma, and the pager goes off.
Back to the ER. I'm kind of lagging because I've had a busy day. Yes, I worked 100% harder than Rick did last night. Despite the old myth, I'm not indefatigable. Sure there was only 1 RT patient when I agreed so kindly to come to work this morning, but after 10 hours of my 12 hour shift there were eight patients on breathing treatments. None of those patients needed treatments. None of the 45 treatments I did today were needed. I'm sorry, but CHF, pneumonia, and "I don't know what else to do" are not indications for bronchodilator therapy.
So this is where I am when the pager sounds. I stop my game (I'm closing in on the leading score) to check my pager: "Treatment in ER!"
Even though I'm burned I rush down. I walk into a room with a 2 year old who is retracting, grunting, and wheezing. It's the son of Rick Frea.
He's a cutest little boy. He's not even a year old and he takes that neb between his teeth and holds it there with his little hands. He sits through the whole treatment better than many adults. He's a champ. And he takes the little cup of systemic steroids, the kind that doesn't taste good, and he takes it like a champ.
Now Rick may have been a bad boy in giving his kid asthma, but boy does he raise a good kid.
So the point of my little post here is that regardless how your day is going, it's a good idea to always take your job seriously, because there are actually people out there -- kids out there -- who need us.