On call

Well, it is Saturday and I am on call. I had a rather uneventful rest of the week, working on peds surgery, helping out where I can. I am learning a lot on this service. Peds is so different than adult medicine. It is a whole different mindset, from the operations we do to the post-op evaluation to all the other details. I have some great operative pictures that I will share when I get home. That is the most interesting thing about peds surgery. Everyone carries a camera, and EVERYONE gets their picture taken. I hate to say it, but our theatre is a like a revolving freak show, where we get to fix all the congenital anomalies. So while they may come into the OR as a social outcast, they leave looking more mainstream, though with scars to prove it was not natural.

We did a cordee release yesterday on a child who was born with ambiguous genitalia. He is a boy, though his genitals weren't as obviously male as his genetics evaluation. The story goes that the kids in the neighborhood used to pull his pants down to make fun of his genitals, since they were ambiguous. I guess cruelty transcends culture. So we fixed him, sort of. We did the best we could to fashion a penis out of what was there, and let's hope it grows and he is treated more normally. We also did a stone removal surgery for a child who had many real stones bilaterally as well as some bladder stones. Finally, we did a case where I child was urinating out of three orifices, his penis, his anus, and his colostomy. So we went in a closed the fistula that was causing the urine to go out of the two pooping holes, so now he is only peeing through the pee hole.

Today on call I was called to see a child who had an anaphylactic reaction to penicillin, I think. He was in respiratory distress and required intubation. He is very sick, and I don't know if he is going to live. 15 years old. Very sad. My heart is heavy right now, because this morning the kid was normal, and now he is in the ICU clinging to life. I saw his mother as I was leaving the hospital, and she just looked stunned. It isn't like people here don't love their kids as much as we love our kids. It is just that they don't have places like Eggleston Children's Hospital to take their kids. Instead they bring them to a local health center, who promptly transfers them to a hospital several hours away. This kid had the PCN shot at 10:00AM, and I saw him for the first time at 1:00PM. That is 3 hours the kid was already suffering. In Atlanta he would have been life-flighted to Eggleston, or else treated with epinephrine and Benadryl (which we DON'T HAVE!) at his local hospital. Anyway, needless to say I am angry and sad, because I don't know if this kid is going to live.

OK, well, I am home again, and I think I am going to take a shower to try to relax away that code. Yeah, the kid did code, and I was the one doing chest compressions. I really hope he doesn't die.

Please pray for Rodgers, that is his name. Pray that his lungs clear and his heart keeps beating. And pray that his brain was preserved, in spite of the period of reduced oxygen. Pray for his mother as well, that she can find comfort in the Lord. And pray for me, also, that this call night would be calm, and that nothing dramatic would happen.

Thanks for checking in on me, and sorry I haven't written in a few days. The internet connection has been bad for the past few days, and this is the first time I have been able to log in to the blog. I hope everyone had a safe and enjoyable July 4. Turns out they don't celebrate it here; we were in the OR all day... Hope the fireworks were pretty.

Today as I sign off, I am thinking of a U2 song, Pslam 40.
I waited patiently for the Lord
He inquired and heard my cry.
He picked me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay.
I will sing, sing a new song.
I will sing, sing a new song.

Today, I am thankful that in the face of death, I can sing a new song, a song of salvation, that death is not the end, thanks to the work of Jesus on the cross. All this suffering is temporary compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ. And the hope of heaven. Although I have to admit the suffering gets hard to watch sometimes. And the helplessness of not being able to stop it. But I will sing my new song of the grace and mercy of my God.

Talk to you soon!
Jill