the room. I’m pulling the crash cart toward the bed while Jonathan hurries to the phone to call up to the operating rooms. Even though I just got to work, we’ve done this so many times that its second nature. We don’t even bump into each other anymore.
“Charging to 120,” I say as I hand the paddles to Doctor Andersen. He’s my favorite doc to work with here in the ER.
“Clear!” he shouts as he presses the paddles to the patient’s chest and shocks her heart. We all stop and look at the monitor, hoping to see a steady, regular rhythm. What we get is a flat line and alarms. “Charge again to 150,” is the order and I adjust the machine. We do this several times, increasing the joules to 200. When that doesn’t work we try injecting epinephrine while Jonathan performs CPR. All of a sudden the cardiac monitor beeps.
“Hold compressions,” Dr. Andersen says and again, everyone freezes. There’s another beep and another, and finally the patient has a regular heartbeat. I breathe a sigh of relief and begin to move things out of the way so she can be transported to surgery.
“Jonathan, please take this patient upstairs and hurry back because we have a rig ten minutes out. CJ, I’m glad you came in when you did. Let’s get this room cleaned up and ready for the next trauma. Skylar will help you,” our charge nurse, Geneva Ann, says.
We all get to work, knowing that there are more patients coming in. The thing about working in the emergency room is that you never know what your day is going to be like. Sometimes things are really quiet, though that is a rarity. Most of the time I am running from room to room, taking care of people with minor injuries or major catastrophes. I’ve been a nurse here since I graduated from college four years ago. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline rush or the sense of family that keeps me here. I would have a similar feeling as a flight nurse, but that would mean leaving this team that has become so important to me.
“The rig just pulled up, let’s go, CJ,” Geneva Ann says as she hustles past the room. I drop what I have in my hands and follow her out to the ambulance bay.
"Hey, Keith. Whatcha got this early in the morning?" I ask as I snap on my gloves. He’s my favorite EMT, always professional and knows exactly what he’s doing.
"Car versus pedestrian at Sixth and Main. This gentleman was the pedestrian. Vitals are stable, no loss of consciousness, but the arm and leg need looked at," Keith replies as he pulls the gurney out of the ambulance and rolls it into the ER.
We enter the exam room and the orderlies are there to transfer the patient to the bed. Once we have him situated, I start my intake.
"Hi, my name is CJ and I'm going to be your nurse. Can you tell me your name?" I look up from my tablet to gauge his responsiveness. He turns to look at me and smiles.
"Curtis Lindey, but you can call me Curt, beautiful." I shake my head but decide to let that one go.
"Can you tell me what happened today?" I focus back on my tablet to record his answers.
"I have no idea. I was crossing the street and a car came out of nowhere and hit me. But now that I'm here, I'll have to thank that guy." He reaches out and puts his hand on my forearm. I move away from the bed to get the blood pressure cuff that's attached to the wall at the head of the bed.
"Are you having any pain?"
"The only pain I have is that I can't get closer to you, baby," he replies. When I turn around to start taking his vitals, he's pulling his shirt off favoring his right side. I can't help but notice the two large paw print tattoos on his chest. It looks like a cartoon bear stepped in orange ink and stood between his nipples and his collarbone. It's taking all my control not to point and laugh at this dumbass. I wrap the cuff around his right arm and pump it up to the point where he starts to squirm.
"Are you sure you're not in pain? It seems that a man like you could handle a little squeeze on
“Charging to 120,” I say as I hand the paddles to Doctor Andersen. He’s my favorite doc to work with here in the ER.
“Clear!” he shouts as he presses the paddles to the patient’s chest and shocks her heart. We all stop and look at the monitor, hoping to see a steady, regular rhythm. What we get is a flat line and alarms. “Charge again to 150,” is the order and I adjust the machine. We do this several times, increasing the joules to 200. When that doesn’t work we try injecting epinephrine while Jonathan performs CPR. All of a sudden the cardiac monitor beeps.
“Hold compressions,” Dr. Andersen says and again, everyone freezes. There’s another beep and another, and finally the patient has a regular heartbeat. I breathe a sigh of relief and begin to move things out of the way so she can be transported to surgery.
“Jonathan, please take this patient upstairs and hurry back because we have a rig ten minutes out. CJ, I’m glad you came in when you did. Let’s get this room cleaned up and ready for the next trauma. Skylar will help you,” our charge nurse, Geneva Ann, says.
We all get to work, knowing that there are more patients coming in. The thing about working in the emergency room is that you never know what your day is going to be like. Sometimes things are really quiet, though that is a rarity. Most of the time I am running from room to room, taking care of people with minor injuries or major catastrophes. I’ve been a nurse here since I graduated from college four years ago. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline rush or the sense of family that keeps me here. I would have a similar feeling as a flight nurse, but that would mean leaving this team that has become so important to me.
“The rig just pulled up, let’s go, CJ,” Geneva Ann says as she hustles past the room. I drop what I have in my hands and follow her out to the ambulance bay.
"Hey, Keith. Whatcha got this early in the morning?" I ask as I snap on my gloves. He’s my favorite EMT, always professional and knows exactly what he’s doing.
"Car versus pedestrian at Sixth and Main. This gentleman was the pedestrian. Vitals are stable, no loss of consciousness, but the arm and leg need looked at," Keith replies as he pulls the gurney out of the ambulance and rolls it into the ER.
We enter the exam room and the orderlies are there to transfer the patient to the bed. Once we have him situated, I start my intake.
"Hi, my name is CJ and I'm going to be your nurse. Can you tell me your name?" I look up from my tablet to gauge his responsiveness. He turns to look at me and smiles.
"Curtis Lindey, but you can call me Curt, beautiful." I shake my head but decide to let that one go.
"Can you tell me what happened today?" I focus back on my tablet to record his answers.
"I have no idea. I was crossing the street and a car came out of nowhere and hit me. But now that I'm here, I'll have to thank that guy." He reaches out and puts his hand on my forearm. I move away from the bed to get the blood pressure cuff that's attached to the wall at the head of the bed.
"Are you having any pain?"
"The only pain I have is that I can't get closer to you, baby," he replies. When I turn around to start taking his vitals, he's pulling his shirt off favoring his right side. I can't help but notice the two large paw print tattoos on his chest. It looks like a cartoon bear stepped in orange ink and stood between his nipples and his collarbone. It's taking all my control not to point and laugh at this dumbass. I wrap the cuff around his right arm and pump it up to the point where he starts to squirm.
"Are you sure you're not in pain? It seems that a man like you could handle a little squeeze on
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