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A Note

I love flowers. I love spontaneity, and pleasant surprises. I'm dainty and ambitious; really. I nurse others. There's more than meets the eye when it comes to me.

 Yours Truly

N A D I A H
200788
ngee ann poly
school of health sciences
Children's Emergency, KKWCH

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Thursday, April 24, 2008 7:39 pm
Resuscitation.



I almost cried at work today. Actually I did cry, only I maintained the tears in my eyes and chanted to myself to not cry anymore lest it rolls down my cheeks and makes it so darn obvious I was crying.

The reason I teared was because a very young boy, about 6 or 7 years old, passed away in the Children's Emergency Resuscitation room today. Fiza and I got the chance to observe when there was a resus case going on. Just so happens, this case was a Trauma Code. Like Code Blue, we also have a Trauma Code, which means there's an emergency situation whereby life-threatening injuries are sustained in a child. So it was announced throughout the hospital:

Attention all Medical Staff. Trauma Code in Children's Emergency (CE).

Or something like that. While in CE itself, an internal announcement was made: Trauma Code in Resus Room, RTA case, ETA 5 minutes.

So when I got to the Resus room, there were already lots of people preparing the medications and equipments. But more came down. We waited to receive the casualty when the ambulance arrives.

Already the child was unconscious and unresponsive when he came in the Resus Room. We worked on him, CPR was done all the way, for more than half an hour. Oxygen and medications administered, parameters recorded, E-blood ordered, suction applied. All the way for at least 45 minutes. Meanwhile, the mother of the child arrived, her screams of anguish could be heard whenever the slide doors open. She was brought to a room outside of the Resus room for privacy, medical social workers with her giving her all the comfort and reassurance they can give. The father was on the way.

I got stressed up, with so many people around giving orders, Fiza and I helped out with the very minor things. Most of the time we could only stand back unobstructingly and observe. I was wrenching my hands behind my back, my heart raced, I could hardly breathe. When I saw the child's face, eyes slightly open, staring blankly, lifeless, limp, as staff after staff took over the CPR, his mother's cry faintly heard behind the closed doors, tears just sprang into my eyes. All the while I was praying, hoping he'd survive.

Some time during the resuscitation, I caught a glimpse of the father arriving, and shown to the room his wife was in, looking quite anxious but was still calm.

I turned my attention back to the rescuing. His toes and feet were so pale. The monitors not showing any cardiac rhythm. There's no way to shock him. It was almost 45 minutes to an hour since the resuscitation started. Suddenly, I realized how quiet the room was. No more hurried orders, medications had stopped being administered, and except for the staff who was doing CPR and another giving oxygen and suctioning, and two or three others standing by, the rest has moved away, standing back. Now it was Fiza who said "Now I'm going to cry." After the last drop of blood was given, we started cleaning the boy up, making him presentable for his parents' viewing. Hmm. I find that phrase so utterly weird, misused. If I were the parent, he will never be presentable unless he's awake.

The boy was wheeled to the room his parents were in. That was when the father broke down. He hugged the child screaming and crying "My son, my son.". The wife joined in. Hugging the child, calling his name, willing him to wake up that he "can do it.". It was so sad, devastating. I almost wanted to go straight and hide myself in the toilet to get my composure back. But I didn't want to miss things. So.. just had to control myself la.

God. Watching the parents cry over their late son was so heart-breaking. I can't imagine being in their shoes. It's definitely worse than having a break up with a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Now that I've experienced this, I find a break up is nothing to the pain of losing a child. It was really hard witnessing it. I wonder if I'll experience the pain when one of my hamsters died. Heh.

I pray the child is happy in heaven right now and that his parents find comfort in some ways and that they receive all the support the world can give.

Anyway, I thought I really would have to excuse myself to the toilet. But things got so busy after that, returning to the rest of our work that the incident momentarily got thrown to the back of my mind. The rest of the day went quite well. I assisted in lots of procedures. I like.

Hmm. Today even started out quite well. I was waiting for a bus to work when I realized someone in this car across the road was calling to me asking me to quickly get in. At first I was like "Me?" and thoughts of not getting into strangers' vehicles came to mind. But on closer inspection I realized it was a fellow KKH staff, so when she hurried me, I just got in, not totally recovered from the surprise. It was so sweet of her to give me a ride to work. I think she is a Senior Staff Nurse. I couldn't catch her name, nor her car brand or her car plate number. But I really hope a good deed would be done to her one day for her kind deed to me.

I wonder if I'd be this sad if I'd worked in a normal emergency department where adults are also admitted. I feel, to me, seeing and resuscitating a child and then him/her either getting into a coma or death is so much more worse than seeing and resuscitating an adult whose prognosis is not good. I just can't bear looking into the face of an unresponsive, unconsious child. I just have to get used to it I guess.