No one likes PEDS calls. If anyone tells you that they do, they are a liar. No one likes seeing little kids sick, hurt, or worse. With that being said, everyone (I assume) does like helping kids and making them feel better. Well my partner and I had an opportunity recently in one of the many cities we cover to witness both.
So there we were, sitting at post. Minding our own business. When we hear the tones go off for what we assumed was a seizure. OK, game face. Which also happens to include lights, sirens, and a large amount of diesel fuel. While this is all going down, I am tapping away on my touch screen work laptop trying to save some time and get as much of the documentation done as possible before getting on scene. Just the stuff that will be required for every call. Nature of call, time of call, and so on. Then the call finally gets sent to the pager. I pick it up to glance at it, and the words "blue" and "baby" are present. !@#$! Not good!
Once the string of obscenities my partner and I both let out have been completed, I start to go over dosages in my head for some of the meds we may or may not be giving. OK, got it. Now that I have that preloaded in my skull, hopefully that will help me when we get on scene.
Upon arrival to the call, we find a wide eyed, wide mouthed baby who is not making much noise and has a fixed gaze to left. May not sound all that exciting, but when a little baby is not crying, pooping, sleeping, or eating, there is a problem. So we spring into action and do our ALS thing for this kiddo in acute distress.
Now it is important to point out that when dealing with pediatric patients, math is always required for proper dosing of medications. Parents are usually a good resource for this. Unfortunately, when they are crying and very distraught, it makes it a bit more difficult to get the information you require. Sometimes you just have to guess. Another thing to point out is that it is not always easy to calculate medication doses for kids. Especially if you are under a lot of stress and thinking from your brain stem. Thankfully after a quick weight estimate and some quick math done on the back of a 4X4, we have our dosage. I wasn't super comfortable with it, but it will have to do for now.
I was surprised at how easy of a stick this little one was. Our other option was to give it rectally, but we got the IV in so fast that we were able to give the meds that before we had it drawn up. SCORE! And while all of this is happening in a very stressful and emotionally charged environment the pt also got a set of vitals, an ecg, blood sugar, oxygen, and so on. This all goes down in a matter of minutes
After that is all said and done, the little one stops seizing. Sweet! I then scoop this little bundle of joy up in my arms and get them secured to the gurney for transport and we are off to the local ER for further treatment.
While enroute I can't shake the idea that my math was wrong. People always tend to second guess themselves with pediatric pts and apparently I am no different. But the kiddo is crying, which in my line of work is a great thing. It means that they are alive and breathing. A silent kid is a sick kid. No bueno. The rest of the ride is uneventful and the little one improves. However, I am still doing the math for the medication dosages in my head thinking that I @#$%$ something up.
Once at the hospital and after I give report to the RN, I sit down and do the math for the medication dosage and keep coming up with the same answer. I even have my partner do the math too and he gets the same answer as well. Finally after about what seemed like 20+ times of figuring out the proper dosage, I finally admit to myself that I gave the right dose.
I guess when it comes to kids, most people feel that they have very little room for error. No one wants to hurt a little one. They usually want to do the opposite and help in anyway they can. The lesson here is kids are difficult. No matter what. However, I am glad that little one is doing well today.
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