call me...

Well, I stated yesterday that I would post on my blog... however, at that time, I was unaware of the duties that I would have to take on today. A time at work and not for play... to be at work ALL THE LIVE-LONG DAY.
That's right, it got sprung on me at work today that I will be taking call tonight. So, without preparation, or the chance to go home and get what I need to spend the night here I sit with a moment of time between other moments of time where who knjows what will happen. Call is like a pinata... of sorts. Sometimes you just keep swinging and swinging and are always on edge; and nothing happens. Then sometimes when you get a hit you get more than you can handle. I suppose that sometimes it makes me feel more like the donkey whose tail needs pinning on, but that is another party game for another time.
This grab bag of plastic surgery call fun has started in a semi-exciting way already. There was an accident in which an 18 month old boy got some facial lacerations over his left forehead, through his eyebrow and on his eyelid. In this wound were imbeded shards of glass among other things. It was something that probably could have been handled in the ED in 20 minutes with some ketamine sedation. However, the interesting part of the story is the dynamic of the mom and dad... Aside: The mom and dad have 9 children [mom is about 40 and was being evaluated in the ED as well] and belong to the Church of God. Admitting to my nievete, I am quite unfamiliar with this denomination to the point that I have never heard of them. They are, I was informed by a minister, like a pentecostal type structure with strict beliefs like Johovah Whitnesses [minus the blood transfusion ethic] and believe in the traditional family heirarchy very strictly. The issue is that when it came time to get consent from mom, she would not allow us to sedate her child for the procedure. She seemed to insist that we do the procedure without sedation. Thinking that she may be irrational, we contacted the father who would not give consent when he was told that there is a small fraction of a possibility that putting his child under anesthesia would cause respiratory depression and death. Well, he then said to talk to his wife. So, upon talking to the wife again, she told us to basically keep running around and talk to her husband because there was no way the her husband would tell us to talk to her... HE IS the decision maker; apparently. So, eventually, he got to the hospital and we got consent for the OR. This is because he felt better having anesthesia taking care of the sedation and having his son intubated. Whatever. So, we went back to the OR [finally after two hours of going through this consent process] and did the 15 minute procedure of suturing up a few of the facial laceration after a thorough wound cleaning. It was really cool, for me [don't mean to be selfish] becasue I got to use some of the smallest sutures that I have to date. I believe that we used 6.0 catgut [Dad, if you read this, you would know what I mean]. It was also neat to be suturing on the face as first assist right across from the attending and have him say I was doing a good job [small pat on back]. Anyway, enough of my little excitement... the kid did well and has been sent home and should heal well. Funny thing about the family... all the children have the first letter of their first name beginning with 'A'. Well, that has been my night thus far... we will see how the rest goes. I suppose that I will write more at a later time and date... so, until then, if you have any q's just ask or comment.
-Garry