Post-it reads “what to do when a surgeon and an anesthesiologist have a pissing match over what room to put the case in?”
Background- a critically ill patient and a disagreement over which OR room to put the case in.
My reaction to this wannabe alpha male posturing that I did not say at the time but is very appropriate, would be to say”Whip them out boys. Let’s compare lengths. Yes, even the women.”
After they stared at me in disbelief, I would gently suggest the bigger room. Because if the case they are wrangling about is as bad as they think it is, we are gonna need the space.
No, this didn’t really happen.
But only because I was not the one who took the case information.
Would I have absolutely said this to a feuding surgeon and anesthesiologist? Yes. I have, and I would again. Because when they are lost in their arguing and their chest-thumping, a patient is getting sicker and sicker. The size of the room doesn’t matter; it is the readily available equipment needs of the case.
I think the anesthesiologist had it right. The room the surgeon wanted to use barely had enough room for the scrub and the nurse, and the anesthesia team, never mind the specialized equipment and supplies the anesthesiologist might need. And it was farther from the crash cart and the ICU that the patient invariably would end up in. This means that it was farther from help.
And, as we all know, distance equals time. This is time that can be useful to save the patient’s life. I absolutely backed up the room decision that they came to, with minimal prodding.
But this wasn’t my case or my monkeys. I was called in as a second set of hands. To help and get blood and send blood tubes for needed tests. And make phone calls to the ICU and the supervisor to smooth out the transition to ICU.
Dispatches from the Evening Shift 