Code Blue 31

[caption id="attachment_912" align="aligncenter" width="282" caption="Image courtesy of 911sono.com"][/caption]

I never imagined that it would ever happen to me. Ever. Unfortunately, it did. It seriously sucks! Big time! Argh!

Every time I go to work, I have this mantra running though my head over and over again:

No one will die during my shift. Perhaps the next shift would be better but not on my watch. Never.

Yes, it does sound awkward and a bit dignified, actually. Sorry. I can't help it, really. Call it OC or whatever for all I care. I actually despise the idea of death lurking inside the hospital. Nonetheless, I repeat this line every second of my 12-hour shift.

Alas, it failed.

The 20th of March, 2010 marked my initiation in the hospital's elite cast of code blue victims.

Crap.

I hated every minute of that event.

1400 - I started giving my medications.

1403 -  I heard a scream from one of my patient's room.

1404 - I saw my patient cyanotic. Assessing that it was a codeable event, I called for code blue.

1405 - The attending arrived, assessed 31 and started airway intubation using an Endotracheal Tube size 8.5.

1406 - The code blue team arrived. I was doing chest compressions.

1449 - My patient died.

It took 43 minutes, about 11 ampules of adrenaline, 2 ampules of Calcium Chloride, 15 ampules of Sodium Bicarbonate, 100 ml of Dextrose 25% with 10 IU of rapid-acting insulin, and 3 ABG samples to help revive 31.

Sadly, nothing worked.

I was in awe. I have never expected it to happen to me. I did every single thing correctly by the book and aligned with the hospital's policies; medications, orders, assessment, rapport, etc.

Everything was in its place. Perfect, if I say so myself. Haha.

Everything flowed so smoothly that I suddenly found myself carefree and relaxed to this tiring routine.

Then, I realized that I seriously forgot what my job entails: compassion. A single word that envelopes this profession's foundation.

Now what? Well, I think that I should slap myself hard and think back during my sophomore days way back in college. My Fundamentals professor was right all along. Thank you, Mrs. Cabezon of the UST College of Nursing. I'm sorry I slept on your class. I do pray that you'll learn to forgive me, eventually.

Coffee, anyone?