I'm a real boy!

Every Friday during this emerg elective, I'm supposed to go to resuscitation rounds. Unfortunately, every Friday thus far I've been so eager to watch my new downloaded sepisode of "The Office" and "Scrubs" and "Andy Barker Private Investigator", I've forgotten to go to all of the rounds. This Friday though, I remembered.

Resuscitation rounds consist of going through different scenarios we might encounter in practice where the patient is in need of serious and timely medical care. The patient is a plastic mannequin who blinks, breathes, and has detectable pulses. Just like a real person! Also, he also has about 9-10 extra nipples made of brass to attach electrodes to. I think they're not made to be nipples though, just to look like them.

The best part about the mannequin is that he can talk. Everybody else seemed to think this was nothing out of the ordinary. I was amazed! It could hear your questions, interpret your words and respond appropriately! Just like a real person!

He even coughed and hacked when he had chest pain, and when he was defibrillated he screamed! Just like a real person!

I turned to one of my classmates and said "That mannequin is just like a real person!". Bemused, he said "Yeah... that guy controlling him behind the one way glass sure is good."

Oh.

So we spent the next couple of hours going through scenarios, each one of us rotating through the role of team leader. Because I'd missed all the previous sessions, I had no idea what to do as leader. Nuts to those NBC Thursday nights! Why do they have to be so distractingly entertaining!

It didn't help that the preceptor told us that the scenario was going to be really tough, to finish off the session. I was becoming more and more anxious as the start drew close. Suddenly, I remembed that it was only a drill. Stupid mannequin! He's not even alive! He should be glad he's getting any medical care at all!

Pulseless electrical activity. Ahhhh... I studied this several weeks ago, and of course I'd forgotten the list of things that could cause it. And I had never studied the proper intervention. My mind raced through possible treatments, or at least temporizers but nothing seemed to work. As soon as I'd tried one thing to correct problem A, problem B would surface while problem A was just getting worse. Wash, rinse, repeat.

So the patient died, and I was surprised at how crappy I felt. Nobody really died. Nobody's family has to listen to bad news. Strangely enough, I felt really guilty. I hadn't studied enough, and I hadn't been ready. I guess that mannequin's even more realistic than I thought. Just like a real person...