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Story time...
May. 7th, 2017 12:30 amThey tell me journaling is good for a variety of reasons: self-expression, cleansing the soul, entertaining, information exchange... The list goes on for a bit. At one time I considered myself a "content producer", cranking out daily posts and the occasional tech piece. That ended for several reasons (to be detailed later and elsewhere), and my next foray into an online presence came about through LiveJournal and the existence therein of a similar community as I'd been a part of through the Daynotes Gang. That's a rather longish way to say, "Thank you" to those who are reading and interacting on here on DreamWidth.
That said, times have changed; systems have evolved; life has proceeded; and the wheel is turning on its eternal axis. ...and since Sweet Lethe has shown herself to be absent this night, I may as well relax to the inevitable and let the Muse have her time in the moonlight. Forthwith, three tales from days past of a gentleman of my acquaintance in my professional persona (yes, a CV would be an excellent idea):
Dr. G was a physician well into his sixties working as an ER doc in a local hospital during the mid-seventies. The translation of that sentence: he had made the transition from being an "doc who worked in the emergency room" to a board-certified ED Physician, something even the current generation of hotshots considered a bit daunting. As I recall, I was doing some routine CE, which meant I was working up patients in treatment rooms and presenting their case to the on-duty physician. I'd passed along one case to Dr. G.; and as he wandered down the hall, he stopped at an extensive flip-up rack of medical journals (mid-seventies: no computers). He selected one volume; had me read up on the reference there that matched the presumptive patient condition; and passed along the maxim, You don't have to know everything about a subject, just where to find the information. I'm thinking he missed his calling as a librarian, and would love the Internet as an information source today.
Fast forward several years. Dr. G is still working in the ED; the staff has grown enough to warrant two or maybe three physicians during the day, but still only one on duty late at night. I'm working as a flight medic at this hospital as a part-time job and rotating my duty time between the ED and rehab (working, not admitted). It's the night shift and a floor nurse shows up downstairs and asks if Dr. G. is working. I let her know he is, but he's in a room with a patient and can anyone else perhaps help. Her answer is to say, I'll wait; I wanted to check with him about my pregnancy. Okay... Maybe we do the blood tests in the ED?
After a bit, Dr. G. comes back to the station and she asks him about her pregnancy. He looks into her eyes for a moment and pronounces, It's a girl. WT??? So I ask an ED nurse about this bit of medicine that I didn't recall from medic school. What I get back is that Dr. G. has a rep for something like a 90%+ correct call on the baby's gender after the third month of pregnancy, and that essentially all the in-house staff who are "with child" check in with him when they reach the end of their first trimester. "McCoy"; "old country doc"; and "Star Trek" are my only thoughts...
...and a few years later there is an early morning radio call from a crew that is headed toward this ED; the nature of which is enough to send my partner and me there to assist. Details are waved, but it's a trauma call and the entire ED staff ends up working the patient. I'm in the nurse's station as Dr. G. walks in to start his day (after drinking some "been in the pot all night" coffee) and asks where everyone is. I let him know the nature of the call and he heads down the hall with me tagging along. When he arrives, the scene is one straight out of a Level 1 trauma center (which this hospital is not for another year or so). Dr. G. asks the attending physician what he has and that MD says, Well, if I could, I'd crack his chest and...; but I'm tied up with the resuscitation. (Level 1 stuff, two physicians and plenty of staff to pull that off.) Dr. G. just turns to the closest RN and says, Let me have a thoracic tray, please. He then goes about the procedure as though it was just another day. "No flippin' way!" is in the thought balloons over every head in the room as they watch "an old country doc" do his thing.
Just another day...
That said, times have changed; systems have evolved; life has proceeded; and the wheel is turning on its eternal axis. ...and since Sweet Lethe has shown herself to be absent this night, I may as well relax to the inevitable and let the Muse have her time in the moonlight. Forthwith, three tales from days past of a gentleman of my acquaintance in my professional persona (yes, a CV would be an excellent idea):
Dr. G was a physician well into his sixties working as an ER doc in a local hospital during the mid-seventies. The translation of that sentence: he had made the transition from being an "doc who worked in the emergency room" to a board-certified ED Physician, something even the current generation of hotshots considered a bit daunting. As I recall, I was doing some routine CE, which meant I was working up patients in treatment rooms and presenting their case to the on-duty physician. I'd passed along one case to Dr. G.; and as he wandered down the hall, he stopped at an extensive flip-up rack of medical journals (mid-seventies: no computers). He selected one volume; had me read up on the reference there that matched the presumptive patient condition; and passed along the maxim, You don't have to know everything about a subject, just where to find the information. I'm thinking he missed his calling as a librarian, and would love the Internet as an information source today.
Fast forward several years. Dr. G is still working in the ED; the staff has grown enough to warrant two or maybe three physicians during the day, but still only one on duty late at night. I'm working as a flight medic at this hospital as a part-time job and rotating my duty time between the ED and rehab (working, not admitted). It's the night shift and a floor nurse shows up downstairs and asks if Dr. G. is working. I let her know he is, but he's in a room with a patient and can anyone else perhaps help. Her answer is to say, I'll wait; I wanted to check with him about my pregnancy. Okay... Maybe we do the blood tests in the ED?
After a bit, Dr. G. comes back to the station and she asks him about her pregnancy. He looks into her eyes for a moment and pronounces, It's a girl. WT??? So I ask an ED nurse about this bit of medicine that I didn't recall from medic school. What I get back is that Dr. G. has a rep for something like a 90%+ correct call on the baby's gender after the third month of pregnancy, and that essentially all the in-house staff who are "with child" check in with him when they reach the end of their first trimester. "McCoy"; "old country doc"; and "Star Trek" are my only thoughts...
...and a few years later there is an early morning radio call from a crew that is headed toward this ED; the nature of which is enough to send my partner and me there to assist. Details are waved, but it's a trauma call and the entire ED staff ends up working the patient. I'm in the nurse's station as Dr. G. walks in to start his day (after drinking some "been in the pot all night" coffee) and asks where everyone is. I let him know the nature of the call and he heads down the hall with me tagging along. When he arrives, the scene is one straight out of a Level 1 trauma center (which this hospital is not for another year or so). Dr. G. asks the attending physician what he has and that MD says, Well, if I could, I'd crack his chest and...; but I'm tied up with the resuscitation. (Level 1 stuff, two physicians and plenty of staff to pull that off.) Dr. G. just turns to the closest RN and says, Let me have a thoracic tray, please. He then goes about the procedure as though it was just another day. "No flippin' way!" is in the thought balloons over every head in the room as they watch "an old country doc" do his thing.
Just another day...
