A Working Sunday Is Not a Sunday
This is an AI translation, pending the author’s review.
The days in ICU fly past. Two calls a week is genuinely hard to bear.
Especially today: working on a Sunday, it felt nothing like a Sunday at all. If anything, it feels awful. No rest, no quiet heart.
First thing in the morning there were two consults to see: one hypoglycaemia causing respiratory distress and needing intubation, the other a septic shock.
At noon, three consultations in a row: a peri-operative MI (the CTS MO didn’t seem to know that an MI should go to CCU, and asked me back, “So ICU doesn’t take MI cases?!”), a Ca sigmoid with OT and liver metastases on palliative chemo, and an eclampsia.
Very, very busy, and in a very bad mood.