One of those moments...
I held a baby's life in my hands today. She had apparently just had a febrile seizure and was not recovering well. Her family were literally prostrate on the ground with fear, screaming - the kind of screaming that could be great joy or sorrow. My kids thought it joy, but I knew that it wasn't, and went to help.
She was limp when I took her from whoever it was that was holding her. I would not allow my child to be taken from me when she was sick, but this family was so distraught, they just handed her over. I did a quick vital check and supported her airway. I tried to console the family, to let them know she was breathing, but they only spoke Tamil, and I needed to concentrate on the baby. At one point she tried to slip away, but I ground her chest with my knuckle. It should have made her scream, but she merely opened her eyes.
The ambulance soon came, and since I had the baby, they had me bring her in. The hysterical mother and aunt came in too, and were promptly sent back out, so that the paramedics could do a vital check without the noise. I told them that she was unresponsive, but breathing and pink when I arrived, which of course elicited the expected "Are you a nurse?". I've lost count how many times I've been asked that question. I offered to get out of their way. They told me to stay, so I did. Oddly, they left the ambulance to get some information from the others there, leaving me alone with the baby. I left just before they turned the lights on and left for the hospital.
I was meant to do these things. Medicine comes to me with ease. I'm calm in times like these and can handle all manner of distress and illness, with all the things that go with it. But it can never be, and it hurts me every time I'm in the presence of those who are in the medical professions. Paramedic, nurse, doctor - I could do any of these intellectually, but physically I cannot. Even climbing into the ambulance hurt.
So many people do the work they do because they need to. Some lucky ones know what they are meant to do and enjoy their work. I know what I am meant to do, but can never do. It's no wonder I can't decide what work to do, when I know I will never be a medical professional. It hurts me. It inhibits me.
She was limp when I took her from whoever it was that was holding her. I would not allow my child to be taken from me when she was sick, but this family was so distraught, they just handed her over. I did a quick vital check and supported her airway. I tried to console the family, to let them know she was breathing, but they only spoke Tamil, and I needed to concentrate on the baby. At one point she tried to slip away, but I ground her chest with my knuckle. It should have made her scream, but she merely opened her eyes.
The ambulance soon came, and since I had the baby, they had me bring her in. The hysterical mother and aunt came in too, and were promptly sent back out, so that the paramedics could do a vital check without the noise. I told them that she was unresponsive, but breathing and pink when I arrived, which of course elicited the expected "Are you a nurse?". I've lost count how many times I've been asked that question. I offered to get out of their way. They told me to stay, so I did. Oddly, they left the ambulance to get some information from the others there, leaving me alone with the baby. I left just before they turned the lights on and left for the hospital.
I was meant to do these things. Medicine comes to me with ease. I'm calm in times like these and can handle all manner of distress and illness, with all the things that go with it. But it can never be, and it hurts me every time I'm in the presence of those who are in the medical professions. Paramedic, nurse, doctor - I could do any of these intellectually, but physically I cannot. Even climbing into the ambulance hurt.
So many people do the work they do because they need to. Some lucky ones know what they are meant to do and enjoy their work. I know what I am meant to do, but can never do. It's no wonder I can't decide what work to do, when I know I will never be a medical professional. It hurts me. It inhibits me.
posted by LastHope at 3:50 PM
1 Comments:
Is she okay?
And... you can write about it, maybe. I still think you have a lot to offer in that way. Think about it.
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