poem

 Sign Out

Pinpoint hole in the cecum but no spillage of stool

Chest x-ray whiteout of the right lung field

Says her pain is 3/10 and it’s an intra-abdominal catastrophe

This one is stoic

That one hysteric

Code white is called and when everyone arrives

It’s a mistake. He just took off his monitor.

On rounds the next morning she’s dead.

DNR. DNI. Comfort care only. 

Contact precautions. C diff. Enterobacter.

Gown and glove and mask before entering

The ER needs you stat in trauma bay 2

The ICU wants to transfer out the perfed duodenal ulcer

And the medical service is refusing to be primary

The case went perfectly. Wouldn’t have done anything different

The standard of care has been met

Alternatives to surgery thoroughly discussed 

You’re only as good as what you’re working with 

You’re only as good as the tools you use

You’re only as good as your lover thinks 

You’re only as good as the light from the moon

Poor protoplasm. Dirty fat. Rovsing’s sign. 

Too many times I’m just waiting for bad news.

Looking outside after you spent 3 hours mowing

The grass and you’ve cut the wrong lawn.

They always come in threes. 

Early dismissal. Too many tardies. Perfect attendance

I learned this from a master

I read everything he ever wrote

One time I had the perfect fried bologna sandwich

You can save one but not all of them

Wheels in the room by 7:30 AM

The lung has collapsed

The bowels are blue

The heart has stopped

Irreversible ischemia

End stage renal disease. 

He’s starting to brady

Activate the algorithm. ACLS. Shock shock shock. 

Here, let me take over

You’ve been doing it too long

You’re going to get burned out

It’s time to re-dose the epinephrine.

Scalpel please. Never slapped. 

Another set of towels. Reglove. Let’s change our gowns.

I’ll need the endo tower. 

Is that the ureter?

I only drink to shake the thermometer

Yes I can hear you. What did you say about the exam?

Code Gray. Code Brown. Code Violet.

Audible bleeding. Cheyne-Stokes respirations

Tell me about your bowel habits

Your 10:15 is running a half hour late

Are you available for your add-on at 1?

Sponge and needle counts correct

Eating in the hallway, on the way to the ER

You’ll feel a little pinch and then a burn

You’ll feel better when it’s over

Twenty years, it goes by in a flash

I can’t promise an outcome I can’t control

We’ll do our best

How did this happen, doctor?

But he’s going to be alright, right?

I’m sorry for your loss

We tried to save her 

I’m sorry for all the carnage

It looks worse than it is 

My plane leaves in a few hours 

Can I sign out to you now?

2/11/26