My first clinical

So last night I had my first clinical, helping out with triage in the ED. I was pretty anxious about it, not just about making mistakes. I was also concerned that by the end of my shift I would be like "screw this, I don't want to go into this field," and although I'm young, I've already completely dedicated about 3 full years to this goal and I would have no idea what I would want to get into besides EMS.

It didn't go that way at all. It totally reaffirmed my devotion to the field. I love talking to such a wide range of people with such a wide range of problems... the 1-year-old with pink eye, the bawling, drunk lady who got beat up in a bar fight... the cheery 92-year-old woman who slipped and fell... the 21-year-old developmentally disabled girl carrying her teddy bear and complaining of ear pain... the hefty middle-aged man with a staph infection and surgical complications. I absolutely loved it.

My second patient was a middle-aged man in excellent shape. He dropped a 400 lb. dough mixer and it gashed his shin on the way down before landing on his right foot. This man must have had an extreme tolerance to pain because he walked in (albeit slowly and with a limp) and sat down, completely calm and polite the entire time. This was especially amazing considering he had a recently diagnosed stress fracture in his left foot. Poor guy; I hope that the new injury wasn't too bad.

A couple of minutes later a young man was wheeled in, slumped over, shirtless and pale. He had crashed into a tree and for some reason he had been treated by paramedics on scene but his family drove him to the hospital. His family said his shoulder and humerus were broken, and indeed he still had an air splint on his upper arm and a barf bag on his lap.

His head was slumped over and he was shivering as I started to take his blood pressure. He was obviously in an extreme amount of pain, and he started heaving a little bit.

"Sir, are you okay?"

"Yyy...yeah... I'm just a little... nauseous."

At this point I had come to terms with the fact that I was going to be puked on. I had known it would happen sooner or later, and this was it.

Miraculously, he managed to avoid vomiting the entire time I took his vitals. No word on when or if he puked on someone else.

It was a good night. I had a great preceptor who was eager to teach and happy to hand me the reins. I wasn't hit, pissed on, yelled at or puked on. I obtained vitals with ease, and learned a lot.

I can't wait until I get to work in the back.