It was our last day in Medical ICU (MICU) and in our shift, we were only 2 trainees. I was assigned to manage two patients — both were suspected to have PTB but the other one has episodes of hemoptysis (coughing out of blood).
He was actually extubated or the endotracheal tube that assisted him to breathe has been removed. He was being prepared to be transferred to the ward because he can already breathe on his own. He though has nasogastric tubing or NGT for feeding.
I started monitoring the patient hourly until 7:00 p.m. I fed him and gave him his antihemorrhagic drug via NGT with strict aspiration precaution. I was asked to have my dinner since he was stable. The patient was talking with his wife when I left. I was starting to eat my dinner when my groupmate came to the pantry and told me to rush to my patient’s room as he was having another bout of hemoptysis. I ran to his room and the resident was already trying to intubate him. The patient continuously coughs out enormous amount of blood with fragments. The attendings have been paged. Emergency drugs have been pushed — Atropine, Epinephrine, fast drip IV fluids but the patient coded. His vitals deteriorated despite efforts to revive him. The attending and the nurses took turns giving cardiac massage but the patient remained on flat line.
I wanted to tell the code team to try reviving the patient.
Time of death was called.
We have given him post mortem care in order for his relatives to see him in resting state.
It was a sad night. The patient was okay when I left. His wife was joyful talking to him. The joy was replaced with moans and outburst of emotions as she was allowed to see him.
I tried to hold back my tears and went out of the room.

… of waiting, I finally got a call from an important person.  I did not personally get the call, our helper did. The person left a message that we need to meet up somewhere in Quezon City today at 1:30 p.m.  Good thing I was free the whole day because I could not say no to that person. I have been waiting for our meet up for almost two years.

I was at the meeting place an hour before the agreed time and I was able to talk with the person at past 5: oo p.m. already.   What is more frustrating is the talk did not last for 15 minutes and we called the meeting off.

I really wanted to storm off the building and just forgot about the whole thing but my sister texted me that waiting a few more hours is nothing compared to the two years of longing  for  that call.

So when will I hear from that person again? I jokingly texted my sister, maybe after two years again.

My rotation in the ward for my BST at the LCP has started last Monday and although sleep has been elusive, I still feel the adrenalin rush through my vein.

It is like I am an energizer bunny.

My feet are still swollen and although this signals me to follow the red light, I have no intentions of taking leave of absence. Although we are allowed to have 6 absences for the entire training period, I feel that it is just proper to maximize my training fee by taking the opportunity to be in the ward and learn new things about bedside care.

Aside from the bedside care, we are expected to perform admission and discharge procedures and to carry out doctor’s orders. If you want to excel in something you must not stop at just learning the 411 but you have to progressively learn the craft.

While I feel so pumped up in my training days, there are instances that sadness sucks the joy in my highly cholesteroled heart.

After every endorsement and rounds, I usually review the patient’s chart to check on the diagnosis, doctor’s progress notes, medications and everything I could wrap my mind around.

Last night, I managed only two patients.  One has so many medications needed to be given at certain intervals. The other has just prn (pro re nata) or as needed medications.  It was for pain.

The doctors made their rounds so I was not able to scan the charts of my patients.

At past 6:00 pm, I was asked by the charge nurse to assist the attending – an oncologist in medicating my patient (who only has prn med).  He was given Etoposide – a chemotherapy drug.

After regulating the drug, I looked for the patient’s chart and found out that he has bronchogenic cancer with non small cancer cells.  The cancer has metastatized in his brain.

He is undergoing 6-cycle chemotherapy.  I was really surprised because he looked healthy, not experiencing alopecia and he kept on playing tricks on me every time I entered his room.

I am imagining, If were in his bed, would I still be the same bubbly person that I used to be? Chemo is a very scary and horrible experience based on people who have undergone it.

I know that as a medical practitioner, emotion should not get in the way of my profession.  I was supposed to handle three patients that day but my third patient who had a DNR order expired. It is sad when you are in the room with the relatives to witness the doctor to pronounce the patient dead.

Every training day is a tiring and edematous day but at the end of the day, I do not feel exhausted.

This is what I wanted to do. Screw the odds, Death is not an option.

All I need now is my Trodat so that my hands will be spared from scribbling my complete name and license number on each page of the patient’s chart.

I have got my scrub suits from the LCP.  I was the last one to claim them noting that the start of immersion in the ward is today.  It is actually my off today and my duty will start tomorrow.

I was really apprehensive in continuing my training program but my strong desire to do what I want is undeniably palpable.

For now, I will take things as they are without disregard to my passion.

I can’t help but smile seeing my name embroidered on the scrub suits with R.N.  at the end of it.