This weekend was a busy one at work. This weekend I loved my job. These two statements are somewhat sononymous (can something be somewhat sononymous?), as my job satisfaction is directly related to:
#1, My partner's social skills
#2, The type of calls we get
#3, How tired I am
#4, How much overtime I have had to do recently.
A repeated theme this weekend was kids and drugs. One patient was 14~his friends called 9-1-1 with his name and age, and then left him on the steps of the elementary school and took off. Way to pick your friends, Jim *name obviously changed.* He was SO drunk that his coma score was the same as a dead person's (3/15) and he felt no pain. He did not respond at ALL. He's lucky he didn't choke to death on his own vomit. The longer I do this job the less weight and meaning there is for me in the word 'lucky,' as generally luck "good fortune; advantage or success, considered as the result of chance (dictionary.com)" seems less and less likely, and providence "a manifestation of divine care or direction (dictionary.com)" or sheer randomness to be closer to the truth.
Anyways, after skating on his vomit and loudly swearing about it, making my partner and the police officers in attendance laugh, I wrapped his puke soaked body in a blanket and we hauled him into the ambulance for a better assessment. He weighed so little. He WAS so little-only 14! He was hypothermic, had dangerously low blood pressure, and marginally low blood sugar. He also vomited and aspirated (breathed in) his vomit, right in front of us (he was on his side to prevent this but flung his head back as he puked, poor 'luck'), requiring aggressive suctioning and likely resulting in infection. I started an IV first try (yay me!) and gave him a fluid bolus.
At the hospital he got the full meal deal: stripped naked, rectal temperature, foley catheter, arterial blood gases, all the indignities.
He's not responsible enough to vote, drive, buy alcohol, or live alone. What the hell is he doing on the stairs of the elementary school so drunk he's almost dead?
Another one of my young patients (16 this time) triggered a seizure disorder which she will live with for the rest of her life by taking some of that lovely crystal meth we all know about, and a date rape drug frequently used by ravers. Why one would voluntarily take a date rape drug is beyond me, but there you go. It's not me.
One of my friends was raped three years ago with the use of a date rape drug. She was 6 weeks pregnant at the time. Isn't it a lovely world we live in?
Actually, it is a lovely world we live in. It's us who are not always so lovely to each other.
Should I chain my kids to my house to prevent them from making stupid choices? Really, what's a little psycosis induced by whacked out parenting when compared to near death experiences brought on by substance abuse?