November 5, 2009

• Go for the Throat (A story of compassion)

  The numbers on the clock read 3:30. 30 minutes until I am protected from admissions, 90 minutes until I get to go home. I spend my time idly performing chart review for my research project, digging through months of notes to grab minor details for the statisticians. Suddenly the pager goes off.

  “Oh no oh no oh monkeyfeathers!”

  “Hi Dr J, we have a patient for you to admit, and this is a good one for the subintern, so have him do the H&P.”

  I inwardly cringe. The sub-intern on my team is a nice guy, but like all students cant help but slow me down when I was hoping to knock this out and be out by 5. Nonetheless, I agree, the sub-I and I briefly review the pts chart and down we go to visit him.

  The pt is a 55 yr old gentleman with a past history of high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and recurrent urinary tract infections here with another urinary tract infection and some shortness of breath. I let the student take the lead in questioning while I scribe notes. After 10 minutes (my patience threshold when I am trying to go home) I subtly begin to help direct the students questions to the pertinent information.

  The biggest concern with our gentleman is his low blood pressure. Someone who reports a history of high blood pressure coming in to the ED with 74/61 is worrisome. More so when that blood pressure barely corrects after 4 liters of fluid. To clarify, I want you to imagine you have just drunk 2 of those giant soda bottles.

  Despite the fact that this man is sitting up and talking to me, that he appears relatively healthy, he is in septic shock. Lab tests revealed more disturbing values. A creatinine (kidney function measurement) of 5.4, where a normal level is 1.0 So on top of his sepsis, he had acute renal failure. Oh yeah and troponins were elevated as well (heart injury lab) meaning he had some demand ischemia (almost, but not quite heart attack) also likely due to his sepsis.

  So it was off to the ICU with him. I called up the admitting fellow and informed him of our plan.

  “Yeah that sounds fine, but drop a central line in him so we can give pressors and antibiotics”

  No problem, except I had never done one of those before. Looked at my watch. 5:30pm. Duty Hours and my internal devil are telling me to sign it out and call it a night. But how in good conscience am I just supposed to walk away? Do I tell the family, sorry, residents have an 80 hour cap, some other doc will come in and jab a needle into a major vessel.

  So I sighed once for my lost evening, and went to track down an attending to supervise me while I placed a central line. A central line is a large bore catheter placed in either the neck, chest, or groin. Most interns/residents tend to opt for the femoral option as it is 1)slightly easier to place a line and 2) does not carry the risk of puncturing the carotid artery or causing a pneumothorax among the more traditional complications of the procedure

  I, however, am not most residents.

  I explained all the risks of the procedure to the patient, and then the benefits and why I thought he needed this and should consent. I clearly managed to convey the appropriate authoritative and experienced image because rather than saying “YOU ARE GOING TO JAB A HUGE NEEDLE INTO MY JUGULAR VEIN? ARE YOU EFFING CRAZY?” instead he went with the more traditional-”whatever you think best doctor.”

  Perhaps he may not have had the same level of confidence if he knew this was going to be my first one ever. But hey, that’s the price of going to a teaching hospital, right? The secret to success is sincerity-once you can fake that, you’ve got it made.

  Gowned and gloved in sterile attire, I palpated the gap between the two heads of the sternocleidomastoid, finding that magic triangle, in which the ultrasound tech located the compressible vein. Then, after cleaning the site, and injecting lidocaine to numb away the sensation of having a rookie poke around in your jugular area, in I went!

  I wish I could tell you I was insanely talented and got it on my first try. However it took about 3-4 times of advancing and retracting the needle, and finally moving more lateral away from my initial puncture wound before I finally saw the inrush of venous blood. I maintained my serious doctor face the whole time while my internal monologue was screaming “YOU HAVE A NEEDLE THE LENGTH OF YOUR HAND IN THIS MANS NECK, QUIT MUCKING ABOUT!” and successfully inserted the catheter with only a modicum of blood spilling onto my gloves, and no complaints of pain from the patient.

  I had successfully inserted my first central catheter, with no complications, and in a more challenging location. I ordered a chest xray to check the placement, and sent him off to the ICU. The time was 8pm, 3 hours after I was supposed to be off, but totally worth the experience. Next time, I will be much less hesitant and once again, I will go for the throat!

  Dr J

  • 12:33 am
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