Friday, September 7, 2012
Once upon a midnight dreary
Lest you think that this blog has turned into a monologue on the idiocy of people other than myself, I have a story for you about my own idiocy. Read on, gentle reader, and remember me in your prayers...
In the middle of the night I trundled off to a distant ward to review the person in bed 3 who was, according to the taskboard, mildly hypotensive and thus warranting a breeze-by from myself. I got there and took a quick look at her observation chart, and was surprised to see that if anything she had been mildly hypertensive.
I grabbed a nearby nurse and asked if perhaps the most recent obs hadn't been charted, but they had. That nurse was also surprised that I was there to review the patient in bed 3 and suggested that perhaps a mistake had been made and that someone had meant me to review the patient in bed 4.
"Choh! Typical!", I said, "Choh! Lucky it wasn't an emergency! Choh! Can't believe anything on the task board these days! Not like the good old days when I first started, last Monday! Choh!", and so on and so on. (This may surprise you if you're under the impression that I'm basically a nice guy - I'd like to think I am but at 3 a.m. I get pretty damn self-righteous.)
But then when I got the chart for bed 4, he was pretty much the same. No hypotension there. So I grabbed the nurse again and pointed this out to her and started out again on my "Choh!" routine whilst unfolding my taskboard printout to show her the errant job that had all these errors in it. Wrong patient, wrong vitals...
... and I got that awful sinking feeling that you get when you realize that you're the dickhead. I was on the wrong ward.