Almost....!!

Ah, nothing like the eve of my last day in the trauma ICU. My Hell-Month is over. I never have to think of it or dread it ever again. No more taking orders from surgery residents ever again.

I did like some of this month. I like getting to know the families of the patients and working with all the nurses. Everybody was really nice. I just don't like rounding all day. It's boring. I also felt like the surgery department's scut monkey, but that's a whole other story.

This month was rough. I lost some patients that I really cared about. The hardest part was watching their families suffer. I wish I could just bear half the weight they are feeling. The thing about the trauma ICU is, most of the patients are younger. It's filled with the 17 year old brain dead boy who just made a bad decision while driving...too new at it to know better. Or there's the 83 year old lady who was in a car accident and broke both her hips-and injury she won't survive. Then there's the 27 year old guy who got shot in the head and now there are 3 people alive today because he donated his organs to them. Anyway, you get my point. It's emotionally exhausting. Now I know why some doctors seem cold and emotionless. Doing this day in and day out would make anyone clinically depressed and divorced. I didn't spend enough time there to become that way. I hugged parents after their child died and then went home and cried myself.

To throw another event in all this, my 39 year old stepsister died suddenly 2 weeks ago today. She had been sick with an asthma exacerbation and in the hospital for a week. Back home, she still felt bad and just stayed in bed. Unfortunately, that set her up for a pulmonary embolus. I don't think she ever knew what hit her. She was short of breath and vomiting, then she was dead. Everyone in my family though it was her heart. I told my brother that 39 year old women don't drop dead suddenly from a heart attack, they die from clots in their lungs.

She and I weren't close at all. In fact, we hardly spoke to each other. We had some..er...differences of opinion on things. Now I'm left feeling guilty that I wasn't more friendly to her. I wasn't mean to her, but I wasn't nice either. I was nothing. She has three kids, two of which my dad is now raising because their dad's don't want them. I'm going to try and make it up to Angie by being good to her children.