bermudapineapple
Stygmata wroteso where are the scary stories again ? you guys must have very mellow lives
Shut the forums down. We've got a badass over here.
mesa177
I was fixing an infant incubator in the ICN (Intensive Care Unit for Neonates a.k.a Newborns). The head nurse went to HR to deal with employee schedules (i.e. assigning shifts), another nurse went to the hospital pharmacy to get the new order for medication, and I was left in the company of 2 nurses.
Everything was mellow until the baby girl in the incubator next to me stopped breathing. Her heart rate went down and her oxygen saturation decreased to 80%. I knew what this meant: she needed to be intubated at once (placed on a ventilator to help with the breathing). Normally I just step aside and assist the nurses with getting the ambo bag off the crash cart, handing over the laryngoscope blades, switching on the ventilator and installing the patient circuit.
To my utter dismay, the 2 nurses in the department FREAKED OUT!! I was completely unaware that they were in fact TRAINEES and have not encountered a similar situation yet. I don't know what came over me, I just dropped the screwdriver and the cover of the heater I was working on from my hands, scrubbed Sterilium anti-bacterial on my hands, wore gloves, and opened the ambo bag on the crash cart. I started to give the breaths at the same frequency I've seen on a CPR poster (plastered in a hospital where I work occasionally at) and told one of the nurses to contact either the head nurse or the nearest nurse in the ICU, OR, or ER (generally nurses there have vast experience with MI codes and situations that require intubations). I told the other nurse to bring me a ventilator and a patient circuit so we can get it ready by the time someone comes to perform the intubation. She brought the ventialtor but didn't know what the patient circuit looked like. I began to describe it bit by bit so she could know exactly what to get (which fortunately she did).
At this moment, an anesthesiologist had arrived from the OR and asked for the laryngoscope blade set so he can start the intubation... the one thing that slipped my mind in all this chaos. The nurses didn't know where it was or even what the blade looked like. He began to yell, so naturally I keep one hand on the ambo bag and reach for the set on the crash cart with the other. I tell the nurse to open it, and reached out for the Miller 0 blade. I hand over the ambo bag to the anesthesiologist (who was a bit startled by that... maybe because I practically shoved it into his hands), hook the blade onto the handle, reach for a chest tube in the drawer of the crash cart, put them aside, and grab the ambo bag right back again. The anesthesiologist grabbed the laryngoscope and chest tube and performed the intubation as I moved the ambo bag aside. He hooks the tube back to the ambo bag, and I switch on the ventilator and start connecting the patient circuit while asking the anesthesiologist what parameters I should set. When I was done, he removed the ambo bag as I handed him the end of the patient circuit and I started the ventilation.
All I know is by the end of this, the baby girl was safely connected to a ventilator and I stood there for a couple of minutes staring at her. I've been put in much more dire situations than this, I mean I fixed a laparoscope bipolar forceps once in the middle of an on going operation with sterile blades and sterile tape strips to make it work while the spare forceps was chilling in Cydex for 10 minutes because one of the staff knocked it over by mistake to the ground. But this was something else. This was out of my turf, and although I've seen it happen more often than I would like, never did I imagine myself being forced into a position to take similar action.
I got a pat on the back by the anesthesiologist, and I took off my gloves to continue working on the incubator. I don't know how, but I finished and left. When I reached home, I just walked to my room, closed the door, and wept. For 15minutes, I was responsible for the fate of someone else's life. I may be tougher than some people, and thankfully I don't tend to panic, but I hardly see myself do that again. That day I gained a new kind of respect to nurses and doctors alike.
Stygmata
Once my wife checked my internet history !!!
rolf
I probably would not have the time to be scared.
Die_Kapitan
Stygmata wroteOnce my wife checked my internet history !!!
Let me guess, she asked you to sit down and asked you that question we all get asked when someone checks our internet history: "what are dank memes?"
NAM
I have been through a couple of near death experiences (plane on fire, drowning once, and one damn accident) but there is no more frightening experience more than being attacked by a flying cockroach in-front of your mother and your girlfriend and shouting with them like a 4 year old girl :S shit changed after that ...
bermudapineapple
Well done, mesa177. Calm mind.
rolf
Was the baby Okay? No permanent damage?
MrClass
Well done sis. I am sure God will return the favor somehow.
I gave my mom and dad scary experiences :D
For mom: I was like 2 years old. Somehow managed to open the backdoor of the house (we were in the states, and you know how those traditional houses were in the 1980's), and began crawling on the street trying to catch up the school bus of my older sisters. Mom came back to the house and couldn't find me. She ran outside like a lunatic and found me half way across the street. I regret nothing.
For dad: We went together to the public beach to enjoy the water. Dad was laying down on the sand while I went to the water to have some fun. Was like 11 back then. Saw some people swimming to the deeper waters and said, sure, I can do this too. Few minutes passed by, then saw a couple of life guards looking furiously around. I wondered what was going on. Then I heard my dad scream my name. I raised my hand and I looked in wonder. I swam back to shore and asked my dad what's going on; did someone drown or something? He said they were all looking for me. I said why? I'm ok. He said, well you drifted 100 meters away from our spot and there were sharks spotted in your area.
Well, shit.
TrollFatGuy
This is an awesome thread. Here's my contribution:
When I was a mere 13 years old (old enough to understand when you are in real trouble yet not old enough to avoid it), I used to play a lot of "wrestling" with my younger brother. The age gap between us is 5 years which had meant that he was just 8. To put size into the equation, I'm quite on the heavy side and I had just started my growth spurt then and the weight gap was somewhere between 40 to 45 Kg...
I was The Rock and he was John Cena... Quite typical. Anyways, I was on my usual spree on the moves list that The Rock had had, and one of these moves was the Samoan drop, whereby I pick my brother up on my shoulder (John Cena FU-style) and drop him to my back with my head barely touching his stomach. This time, however, I had put a little too much weight on his head and he suddenly started turning blue-ish. His breath got tense and heavy and I panicked; if I called my parents I would be in trouble (Yeah, that's what I thought, I was only thirteen at the time).
I don't know when I decided I wanted to call my parents but I just started crying out loud and that's when they heard me and came to help. My brother was rushed to the ER only to find out that his asthma had kicked in... I confessed everything to my parents that day and they said that it wasn't my fault directly and that it was all the dust we had generated through our playing. I could see through the lie, unfortunately, and the guilt still comes back whenever I quarrel with him nowadays. I also still have a recurring dream/nightmare opf me performing that samoan drop and right before I land I wake up.
Damn scary knowing you almost killed your brother.
bermudapineapple
TrollFatGuy wroteThis is an awesome thread. Here's my contribution:
When I was a mere 13 years old (old enough to understand when you are in real trouble yet not old enough to avoid it), I used to play a lot of "wrestling" with my younger brother. The age gap between us is 5 years which had meant that he was just 8. To put size into the equation, I'm quite on the heavy side and I had just started my growth spurt then and the weight gap was somewhere between 40 to 45 Kg...
I was The Rock and he was John Cena... Quite typical. Anyways, I was on my usual spree on the moves list that The Rock had had, and one of these moves was the Samoan drop, whereby I pick my brother up on my shoulder (John Cena FU-style) and drop him to my back with my head barely touching his stomach. This time, however, I had put a little too much weight on his head and he suddenly started turning blue-ish. His breath got tense and heavy and I panicked; if I called my parents I would be in trouble (Yeah, that's what I thought, I was only thirteen at the time).
I don't know when I decided I wanted to call my parents but I just started crying out loud and that's when they heard me and came to help. My brother was rushed to the ER only to find out that his asthma had kicked in... I confessed everything to my parents that day and they said that it wasn't my fault directly and that it was all the dust we had generated through our playing. I could see through the lie, unfortunately, and the guilt still comes back whenever I quarrel with him nowadays. I also still have a recurring dream/nightmare opf me performing that samoan drop and right before I land I wake up.
Damn scary knowing you almost killed your brother.
Don't beat yourself up about it. It wasn't intentional and you were both children. What does he think about it?
rolf
Nemesis-301 wroterolf wroteNemesis-301 wrote
yeah, I wanna conquer my phobia, but I should do it gradually
Didnt you already conquer it?
No? What do you mean?
You have already confronted your worst fear. Didn't that free you in some way?
TrollFatGuy
tt400 wroteTrollFatGuy wroteThis is an awesome thread. Here's my contribution:
When I was a mere 13 years old (old enough to understand when you are in real trouble yet not old enough to avoid it), I used to play a lot of "wrestling" with my younger brother. The age gap between us is 5 years which had meant that he was just 8. To put size into the equation, I'm quite on the heavy side and I had just started my growth spurt then and the weight gap was somewhere between 40 to 45 Kg...
I was The Rock and he was John Cena... Quite typical. Anyways, I was on my usual spree on the moves list that The Rock had had, and one of these moves was the Samoan drop, whereby I pick my brother up on my shoulder (John Cena FU-style) and drop him to my back with my head barely touching his stomach. This time, however, I had put a little too much weight on his head and he suddenly started turning blue-ish. His breath got tense and heavy and I panicked; if I called my parents I would be in trouble (Yeah, that's what I thought, I was only thirteen at the time).
I don't know when I decided I wanted to call my parents but I just started crying out loud and that's when they heard me and came to help. My brother was rushed to the ER only to find out that his asthma had kicked in... I confessed everything to my parents that day and they said that it wasn't my fault directly and that it was all the dust we had generated through our playing. I could see through the lie, unfortunately, and the guilt still comes back whenever I quarrel with him nowadays. I also still have a recurring dream/nightmare opf me performing that samoan drop and right before I land I wake up.
Damn scary knowing you almost killed your brother.
Don't beat yourself up about it. It wasn't intentional and you were both children. What does he think about it?
He still thinks it was the dust and barely remembers the whole ordeal. He doesn't really remember the exact actions that day, I think he was still too young.