Like a delicate flower...

Every so often here at work we have run-in's with some rather unkind characters. In order to make ourselves feel better about the nasty folk we have to interact with, we do things like this :


This woman in particular can not stand any one of us in research. I have compiled a list of her evil qualities in an easy to read picture format so that the average person can be made aware if someone they know and can't stand begins to exhibit these same unflattering qualities, including (but not limited to) the evil bone chilling glare, the affection for any man in uniform, and the thought that she is a hot mama and her patients will be over the moon to have her as the person in charge of their life.

And one cannot forget the frizz inducing hair bleach.

Please. Don't let yourself become a victim of Carmen Hostility Syndrome.

Right when you think you've lost it

In my line of work it is rare to feel any sort of a connection with any of the patients considering the pace at which we are constantly going from either screening a new patient being wheeled in, to catching up on labs from those already admitted, to hunting down family in order to enroll that perfect patient who fits all criteria for which we are looking for.

I work only three days a week, 13.5 hour shifts, so I often feel as though I am going on autopilot. In the rare downtime I am often looking up different medical terminology (aka 'The Greek language of docs') in order to constantly fill my head with useful information. (No worries though, I always save room for useless crap as well. There is always room for useless crap).

This past Saturday was shaping up to be like any other Saturday complete with lots of car crashes and falls. Nothing too spectacular. While in the beginning of my working at the trauma center this would have been endlessly fascinating, I have come to be what some may consider "de-sensitized". I really hate that wording though. I have always fancied myself to be a considerably sensitive person, and to think that now faced with people that are potentially in dire need I might be 'de-sensitized' horrifies me.

It wasn't until later on that day we got a somewhat interesting call about a person sustaining multiple stab wounds.

Now your typical stab victim is usually either a) coming from a corrections facility, b) drunk off their rocker, c) in some sort of nasty street fight or d) involved in illegal activities. Needless to say you often know the backstory of the victim before they ever even arrive. This person was somehow different.

Our victim came in without a name or any other sort of identifying items. The only thing that was known was that there was a name for the bad guy. Whether our victim was a bad guy too was still unknown. I remember the paramedic telling the officer rather un-apologetically that the reason he didn't get a definitive name was that he was trying to keep the victim awake by reciting ABC's on the way in and really was more focused on that than anything.

My co-worker and I stayed around a bit to gather blood pressure information and when it seemed all in control, went off to do our nightly fluid collections on our other research patients.

It wasn't until later on when I was alone, having come from a somewhat emotional trip to the TBI floor (either you do remarkably well, or you just don't) I came down to check on my stab victim. Turns out they were a perfect candidate for one of our studies.

I ran to the attending doc to get permission to approach the family and then off I went to find them.

I often wonder how it is that I can gather enough courage to approach a family or loved one about a research study when they are feeling every fearful and terrible emotion possible at that moment. This coming from a girl who could barely pick up a phone to sell a stupid band sub in her high school days. This coming from a girl who would rather go to the doctor for a booster shot and blood draw than go door to door selling Girl Scout cookies as a grade schooler. I'm still trying to figure of that out.

I find my family and escort them into the quiet room. I see their faces and can tell they have every question in the book on their minds right now. Do I have any promising new information for them? Am I bringing them terrible news? (Considering we wear the same white coats as the docs, it isn't rare for us to have eager eyes staring us down when we pass by the waiting area thinking we are docs coming with information.)

I then tell them that I am from research and that because of the injuries sustained by their loved one, they (their loved one) are eligible for a study. I go on to explain the study, at the same time reading the faces of those gathered around me. The father who doesn't quite seem to understand what happened and keeps questioning me about the status of his family member. The mother who looks so tired and scared for her baby. The brother who just looks as though he is about to be sick, all the while wondering who did this to his sibling. The sister-in-law with her sweet presence that seems to make me feel more at ease. And then of course the 'out for blood' family member who rakes the mother over the coals for even considering allowing the patient to participate in a research study because "you know all the government wants to do is experiment on us". After the conspiracy theorist go slamming out of the quiet room, I look over to the mother and gently remind her that this is all voluntary and if she feels at all uncomfortable with anything she can decline.

She accepted, hoping this will help others one day.

From there it was a fast scurry to move forward with the procedures of the project. All the while I found myself constantly concerned for the welfare of not only the patient but for the patient's family as well. I was incessantly curious about how the patient was doing. Had the patient not pulled through despite to our amazing surgeons, I would have felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and loss for the family. When I went up to check on the patient later on in the wee hours of the morning (and 4 hours after my shift had officially ended) I just wanted to be sure they were ok. To be sure that they were being treated with the utmost care and concern by their nurses. They were more than just another person rolling through the double doors.

Does this mean I haven't lost the sensitivity? I suppose that isn't such a bad thing.

This is how we roll

If you ever wondered what it is like working in such an academically sound research institution with many highly educated and intelligent people all working for the betterment of today's trauma victim, look no further than this email I sent out to my fellow colleagues upon learning that our once sick co-worker would now be joining us for an intense day of research :


From : Carrie
To : Core Research Group
Subject : Josh will be in

Due to a miraculous recovery that can only be attributed to good health, proper nutrition and a hefty infusion of H2O and bacon, our brave Josh will now be joining us today.



While he will not be joining us at his regularly scheduled time, we can all thank each other for the well wishes sent his way that have assisted in his being brought back from the brink of death, just in the nick of time.



Congratulations on your speedy and efficient recovery Josh! If only the rest of us could hold dear just a little bit of the awesomeness that you possess.



Sincerely and with much shock and awe,



~Carrie



**And if you weren’t a believer before, you should now fully understand the wonderful healing powers of bacon, America’s favorite fruit. There really is nothing in the world better than bacon. Nothing.**

Carrie A. Awesomeness (not my real last name, but it sure as heck should be)

Clinical Research Assistant

CORE Research Group

R.A Cowley Shock Trauma Center

University of Maryland, School of Medicine


From : Allison
To : Carrie
Subject : Re : Josh will be in

Truly the world is not ready for the gifts that Josh possesses. We must keep his skills secret, safe, lest the petty jealousies of the ignorant masses steal him away to rend him limb from limb, to realize, all too late, that Josh’s gifts cannot be possessed by any other.


Allison


P.S. The first inkling of the coolness that is Shock Trauma was noted while shadowing Dr. Stein during rounds in October of 2006, when the team nutritionist began extolling the virtues of bacon ….

No Promises, I'm Feeling Lazy

Saturday is not a day off for me. My entire work week consists of hovering over trauma patients on Friday, Saturday and Sunday with Monday - Thursday either being travel days or days I park my ever expanding booty in front of a computer and work from home for an ungrateful little pharmacy that really should have been punished more as a child and sent to bed early with no dinner instead of only receiving the requisite time out.



In honor of my brain feeling like mush from the rather hectic day (you mean just because someone smashed up their car on the road due to their drinking too many Vodka tonics I ACTUALLY HAVE TO WORK??) I have decided to post a couple of pictures from my latest trip to the wasteland that is Del Rio, Texas. If it weren't for the fact that the hottest Puerto Rican man on the face of the planet lived there along with his cute little sidekick, Munchkin, I would never venture that far south. Ever.




Hope your weekend is fantabulous!

Really people....

It is certainly one of those days here in gloomy Baltimore. I have the next few days off and to be perfectly honest, I don't really know what to do with all of that free time. I know half of people out there would give their left kidney to have four days off in a row, but REALLY PEOPLE. When I don't go to Texas where I have plenty to do (clean, go to soccer with Munchkin and Mr. Hot Pilot, cook, chase the useless cat around the house in hopes she will run away..) I am often left bored out of my gourd.

I came downstairs this afternoon after doing a whole lot of nothing upstairs and found my dog Lucy staring rather listlessly out the front window. The picture above illustrates just how I feel.

Come back spring/summer...this fall crap is for the birds.

Climbing up onto my soapbox

I'm sure many of you remember the tragic Amish school shooting that happened around two years ago this month. This was something that chilled many to the bone and terrified others. Many of you also I'm sure have fresh in your memories the tragic crash of "Trooper 2" here in Maryland last month. Both tragedies hit close to home and both you will see are somewhat interconnected.

After the recent crash of our state medevac chopper, the Maryland State Police have come under close scrutiny by the National Transportation Safety Board and the FAA. Suddenly, even after having 90,000 accident free flight hours under their belt, lawmakers want change. One lawmaker in particular who has a vested interest in a private medical helicopter company, Medstar.

Sen. John C. Astle would like nothing more than to see our renowned state run medevac system become privatized. What happens when privatization occurs you ask? If privatization were allowed to occur, Mr. Astle would be making beaucoup bucks with each flight completed by Medstar Health. This would also mean that the once free transportation service offered by the Maryland State Police helicopters from crash scene to hospital would now cost the patient or their insurance company money. Certain private medical helicopter companies would also be more likely to fly patients to their own facilities, i.e - Medstar medevacs would be more likely to fly to a Medstar health facility. Not such a bad thing you think? This is where the Amish school shooting connection comes in to play.

Back when the shooting occurred, several medical helicopters flew in to transport the critically wounded children to trauma centers. What many didn't know was that there were two instances where privatized medical helicopters failed those children. One little girl was loaded onto a Medstar chopper and FLEW OVER a close by pediatric trauma center in favor of a Medstar health center which was further away. To add to that, the chopper actually STOPPED FOR GAS along the way. Another little child bled to death on the way to a Medstar facility after flying over the same pediatric trauma center. Would that child have been saved if they had gone to the nearest pediatric trauma center? Who knows. But there is always a possibility. (Think of the Golden Hour theory which was pioneered by R Adams Cowley himself.)

I will let you pick your jaws up off of the floor.

My point here is that privatization isn't necessarily the way to go. With our state medevac choppers, the flight paramedics and pilots fly to the most reasonable facility whether it be the closest due to time or to our trauma center due to our expertise on head and spine injury. THEY DON'T CHOOSE WHAT IS BEST FOR THEMSELVES, THEY CHOOSE WHAT IS BEST FOR THE PATIENT. And that my friends is the difference.

Time to climb back down off of my soapbox. It is so sad when a system that is copied closely in other states due to its great efficacy is now being slammed and lambasted. Interesting though how it is lawmakers with a vested interest in a private helicopter company isn't it?

What are your thoughts?

At least I'm a block from the hospital

Gen. Perry: About 1600 hours… and I hope to hell you've found him by then.
Mike: 1600 hours? So, like five months from now?

This is a picture I took on my cellphone right next to where I was parked in the parking garage. I feel so safe.

Trooper 2

It is truly a sad day for us here in Maryland, particularly those in the trauma center/state police family. Earlier this morning one of our Medevac choppers, known to us as "Trooper 2" went down in a wooded area shortly after lift-off from a crash scene with two injured on board. Unfortunately four of the five on board did not make it, including the pilot, the flight nurse and another EMT along with one of the injured from the auto crash. I woke up to this horrifying news after I read about it in my morning ritual of scanning Fox News.

This news truly hit home for alot of us here at the trauma center. They weren't on their way to us, but on their way to another hospital. We have had pretty bad weather the past couple of days, and it is rare that they will fly the helicopters on those days unless absolutely necessary. It is quite the risk to all involved.

I was invited to fly along with Trooper 1 for a day (since I work in the trauma center) and of course that was my first thought was that it were friends I had made who fly Trooper 1. But we have met all of the troopers so far, some we have gotten to know better than others. These are some of the hardest working people, obviously risking their lives to save others. It just really intensifies my feelings on how people drive, and the personal safety precautions they take to ensure safety for themselves and for others. I find it to be such a selfish act to drive drunk, drive aggressively, drive recklessly, ride scooters/ATV's without a proper helmet, not be on the lookout for motorcyclists, etc. These are the crashes and injuries we see come in all the time in the trauma center, and most times they are flown in to us via our Trooper choppers. People need to think for a second before they hop behind the wheel after having "a few beers", or before they speed up on that wet road and try to pass the person in front of them who is going too slow. And while there is a helmet law here in Maryland, there is no law governing those who ride scooters, mopeds or ATV's. You don't know how many times I have seen a person come in with severe head trauma from riding these without a helmet. Most times those riding the scooters, etc. are not wearing protective head gear. It only takes a second folks. A second to make the choice between safer living, or injuries and worse.

Please keep the families of those aboard Trooper 2 in your thoughts and prayers. And think longer before doing something that could potentially harm yourself or others around you.

Maryland State Police Aviation Command - Trooper 2

Workin' hard...or hardly workin'

Doctor, I think we got our blood donor! -Servo

If you have known me for any length of time (preferabaly from infancy on) you would know that in my younger days I was rather shy. As in the girl who only spoke to those who she knew and hated meeting new people shy. Please, don't ask me what happened (as so many who are accustomed to my mouth so often do)-I'm just grateful I'm not that way anymore.

I remember back in the high school days when I was in **cough, cough** marching band, and we would have to sell subs and pizzas in order to make money to go on our yearly band trip. I HATED selling things. I HATED selling girl scout cookies door to door when I was little (yes I have had the door slammed into my then 6 year old face), and I HATED selling those stupid band subs and pizzas to people as a teen. It was a truly painful job to do. I would retreat to my room every afternoon after school as quickly as possible in order to pretend to be doing copious amounts of homework, all the while escaping my mothers repeated requests for me to get on the phone and sell those darn band subs. As she put it, I needed to "Hump it, and get it done".

Dear Lord. Yes. She actually told me to "Hump It." To this day I can not reflect on that phrase without my face going completely beet red. My poor mom had no idea in the world what that phrase could possibly mean to a 16 year old.

So year after torturous year, we would go through band sub season with my doing the best freaking homework job ever, and my mother hounding me to "Hump It."

I did eventually quit the marching band, not so much because of the horrendous sales job I did (although that was a good part of it) but because our band leader was just a terrible, horrible, thoughtless, evil, fat pony-tailed man. And so I was out.

Since then I have never, ever taken a job where I had to rely on my sales savvy in order to pay my bills. Instead after high school and while pursuing a college degree (that took 10 years to acheive) I worked in Pharmacy as a pharmacy tech. People were usually too giddy and excited to get their meds to really give a hard time (except that guy who wouldn't pay the $10.01 copay because 'his copay was $10.00 dammit!')

So here I am with a fresh, new college degree and a brand new job as a clinical research assistant. I cannot begin to tell you how awesome my job is. I get to work in a world renowned Trauma Center here in Charm city, and get to be in the middle of all of the action. However I was thinking earlier today about how interesting my job is, and how, back in the day, not in a million years would I have ever thought I could do this particular job. What is it exactly that I do you ask? Well I have to approach families and patients during the worst possible moments of their lives and "sell" my current medical study. I have to cold approach the mothers, fathers, husbands, wives and children of the very people who have their life hanging in the balance and "sell" the idea that this study will not only benefit their lives, but the lives of others as well. I have to prove to them that my taking samples of their blood/brain tissue/other bodily fluids will someday create a breakthrough in the world of trauma medicine that will benefit millions of people. I have to consent people who have had their limbs broken, to let me put probes on their heads in order to compile a control group of people with normal brain function. I realize that in fact I am doing just exactly what my old self would have given my left hand to avoid. I am putting myself out there for rejection...I am putting myself out there to become attached to a patient who might not make it...but my work is making a difference.

Would I rather sell band subs than approach the distraught family of someone who may help us save thousands of lives?

Not a chance.