We had a woman come in tonight who was a drowning. Young and vital and somehow drowned in a freak accident. Asystole at the scene. Probably down twenty plus minutes before she got to us. She was young and I wanted so badly to save her so we hit her with everything--went way beyond ACLS and pushed and pushed and pushed. And she came back. She had a rhythm and she had nice thudding pulse, but she had been down so long that her brain is probably unsalvageable. Even afterwards it was dicey, and really I had to work to keep her stable.
Went to talk to the husband. He was there with her children. They were totally unprepared. It was grim work. I never know what to say and find myself stumbling over words and trying to be clear and compassionate and always wondering if I'm doing either. Just miserable.
I talked to the Biscuit and asked her to be up when I get home. I realize that I'm wanting so much to save someone to make up for having hurt the other lady so badly. I'm scared and desperate before codes and even before intubations--I'm physically nauseous when I have to intubate someone, no matter how straight forward I know it will be. It would be nice to help someone. To really help someone--to bring them back and give them back healed and whole to their loved ones.
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Today at work the Biscuit came in. I was up front checking out the rack--the rack of charts that presages either a good or bad night for us--when a tall gangly woman in an atrocious green dress walked into my field of view. It looked suspiciously like the Biscuit's Sympo-friend and--lo and behold!--it was. Out in the ghetto. And beside her--the Beautiful Biscuit. What a treat! But why....
She came bearing gifts. The type of gifts ER personnel like best--food! Her church bridal shower had ended and she and the green dress had driven forty miles to drop off the left-overs with me at work. She was beautiful, happy, charming and bearing Italian food--I had to struggle to not walk a around with a big sloppy grin on my face. What a woman!
All night nurses, techs, secretary and staff were thanking me for the food. At first I demurred, but finally I just gave in and was appropriately gracious. The Biscuit has done more to make me liked by the ED than anything I have done for myself. She's magical! People who like me--my friends and family, even my parents--like me more because I have found her. Incredible!
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Full days recently. Originally these days were scheduled for leisure, and thus the front end of my February was stacked with shifts. As it turned out the Biscuit and I planned so much into our off time that vacation ended up being more taxing than a normal work schedule. Fun, a lot of fun, but exhausting.
The highlight was going up to Santa Barbara to see the Tour of California come into town. For the unitiated, this is the first year of the TOC--a 9 day long bike race from SF to LA that has attracted top European teams, and the cream of American cycling. Top riders like Landis and Julich and Leipheimer brought there teams over, and the top American teams--i.e. Discovery--came out as well. World class cycling literally delivered to California's doorstep.
I love Santa Barbara and this was too good an opportunity to pass up. We went to the top of this monster climb just outside of town and watched the riders race by--they were flying, easily whipping over a hill that would have stopped me in my cleats. The Biscuit dressed up (or, more truthflly, was dressed up) as the Devil; an homage to the Tour de France Devil, Didi. The girl's a superstar. Just so much fun to be with.

Granted, not the most flattering photo--but again, you gotta love this girl!