Wednesday, July 25, 2012

PRIVATE ADDICTION.



GETTING HIGH ON YOUR OWN SUPPLY.



I knew there was something wrong when she refused my offer for her to sit down.

She sneered at me, "I told you I'm the head of this Hospital, you didn't answer me!"

Indeed, she had worked in the Hospital and retired over a decade back as a Matron, but she wasn't the Head of the Hospital... She had simply lost her mind.

She now talked and behaved irrationally.

She pointed her walking stick menacingly at me - I put myself in defense mode, just incase she attacked me....

Her problem began about 14 years ago, when she developed an addiction for a popular analgesic injection- Fortwin (Pentazocine). As a nurse, she had unrestricted access to the drug and continuosly injected herself, this went on for about 7 years without medical intervention and still persisted after she was diagnosed.




"If you give me Fortwin, you will see that I am okay", she told me in the midst of some random ramblings and insults directed at me : "I asked you the other time, what's in your head? That your head",she directed her next set of ramblings at me.

I tried to examine her, "Don't touch me!" She exclaimed, as I humbly withdrew.

She was a pitiable and embarrassing sight, a former Nurse now a psychiatric case, all because she didn't know where to draw the line.


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Friday, July 20, 2012

HUMOR - COUNTDOWN TO BRAZIL 2014 - LETTER TO MY PATIENTS.




Dear Patients ,

How are you?

You know I care so much about you , that is why I am taking out time to write you this note.

As we all know, the World Cup is around the corner - I feel it is necessary we are all prepared for some changes that will occur during the events, I have thought long and hard before coming to the following conclusions:

1.COMPLAINTS

Make your complaints brief and to the point. I am really not interested in your family and social history.


2. LENGTH OF SICKNESS .

If you have been sick for over 5 days and are just coming for the first time, another 2 hour wait for the TV highlights to end will not kill you.


3. PATIENTS ON THE WARD.

You are advised to keep arms that have IV lines ABSOLUTELY still during the period of any match I am watching, as any tissued lines will not be reset.


4. PREGNANT WOMEN.

I have a soft spot for you.

If you know your Expected Date of Delivery falls on a day my country has an important match, kindly come to me now for some quick tips on self delivery( items needed: warm towels and really sharp scissors or garden shears.)




5. INJURIES.

- Except your head is cut off, be satisfied with a bandage for any...and I mean any kind of injury.


6. CONSULTATION TIME.

now for any kind of complaint is one minute, if you feel you need to talk more, I will be glad to refer you elsewhere...


7. PATIENTS AND NURSES

- The fact that I am watching the TV on the wards does not mean I came in for consultations...


8. PEOPLE WITH JUST ONE

of the following symptoms will not be seen:

1.Inability to sleep. .

2.Headache.

3.Cough or catarrh.

4. Lack of appetite.

5. Pain
....(Please note that pain and agony are not the same thing) .

The aforementioned should go to their local Pharmacy.


9. If you suddenly see me jump up and start dancing while consulting, don't think your doctor has run mad - it's a goallll!


Thank you for your support.

Signed
Your Football loving Doctor.

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SIGNS OF MENTAL ILLNESS.


"DEAR PARENTS FORGIVE ME IF I HAVE OFFENDED YOU."

I knew there was something wrong, the moment I saw her.

The way she gazed at me made me very uncomfortable, I shifted in my seat.

But she wasn't looking at me - she was looking through me. She never blinked all the time I looked at her, the tears streamed down her eyes from the pressure of keeping her eyes open without blinking. Her neck remained at an awkward angle as she continued to look at / through me.

She was in her mid 20's and she had lost her mind.

It had started gradually, she forgot little things - she forgot where she kept things in the office and at home, she forgot how to operate her Laptop.

She had told her mother about this and was subsequently taken to the hospital. After some tests were done, they saw nothing wrong with her .

Now, she was no longer talking, all she could do was continue to stare and pull at her hair.

I enquired about the usual predisposing factors for a mental breakdown for a girl that age - boyfriend, drugs, alcohol and substance abuse - nothing significant.

Except this - Dad had decided to live with his girlfriend and had been in an argument with her mother, she had been caught in between the argument. But was that enough to lead to a mental breakdown?

Another thing - she had kept some money in an envelope addressed to her parents saying, "Dear Parents, If I've in anyway offended you, please forgive me."

Had depression about her parents' separation led to her mental breakdown? Was that just a tip of the iceberg? Was she contemplating suicide?
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Thursday, July 19, 2012

MY OKADA STORY - A DOCTOR'S POINT OF VIEW.

Guest Post by Dr. Busuyi.


EDITORS NOTE: Due to a certain state government's recent "ban" on commercial motorcycles popularly call "okada" I felt I should once again bring up this post for you to air your views.



"I don't want to die!"

"I don't want to die, please help me!" "Please save my life!" He pleaded passionately.

He was brought by good Samaritans in the early hours of a calm day.

Looking at him he looked moribund. His life seeping away.


He was a young man in his early 20s; unkempt and in a lot of pain; dirty, with a foul stench emanating from his body.
Oh that smell!

He was also penniless.

He was in a pool of his own blood with multiple deep lacerations on the chest and the abdomen.

There was nothing left to the imagination,he was a living study in human anatomy - his stomach and intestines
were out of his body,
clearly exposed for all to see.

He was a local commercial motorcyclist who, as is common to many of them, was riding at break-neck speed when he suddenly had to apply his brakes.

He was immediately launched like a rocket off the motorcycle and landed on the metal wires used in demarcating the dual carriage way on a popular street in the city's Metropolis. The wires tore into him like a prize turkey.



Of course he had no protective gear on.

It was a gory sight. A scene straight from the horror movies; blood here, blood there and blood everywhere. One of the ones you know that just can't survive.

We rushed him to the theatre, his life hanging by a thread, in a pool of his own blood, no time to ask un-necessary questions like who would foot his bill.

It was a gruelling surgery, but survive he did. He was lucky all the necessary manpower and equipment were available.

The lacerations were all sutured; The stomach and intestines were returned into the abdomen.

Luckily for him, his spleen and abdominal aorta were spared. If not, he would have been dead in minutes.

He recovered.

I felt proud to be a doctor, a life saver used by God. It was one of the most memorable days of my career.

But there was one small problem - who would pay the bills?



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Follow Dr Busuyi on twitter @drbusuyi

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

SAFETY IN THE WORK PLACE 2



Read Article 1 here.

HE DIDN'T HAVE TO DIE. (Stories that touch the Heart.)

That day Dr B woke up, nothing could have prepared him for the series of events that would lead to his untimely death.

Dr B was a privileged child of his parents who are both Doctors, they had ensured he had a world class medical education.

Dr B would probably still be alive if he had not met the patient that day. But he did.

Just when all seemed to be going well - it happened - a physician's nightmare - Dr B pricked himself with the needle he was using on the patient.

The patient was HIV Positive.

Dr B panicked.

He informed his parents(who are Doctors).

His parents panicked.

Dr B was eventually given some Anti-Retroviral drugs, possibly to prevent any effect or progress of the HIV virus.

Dr B reacted to the Anti-Retroviral drugs and was rushed to the hospital.

Dr B died a few days later from complications of the reaction to the drugs.

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Wednesday, July 11, 2012

ADVICE FOR MEDICAL SCHOOL.



Thinking of starting that career in medicine?  Here are a few tips that may help guide you:

1. KNOW WHY YOU ARE THERE.

Do you love being a doctor and caring for the sick? Or were you just the best Science student who naturally drifted towards medicine? Or was it your parent's decision? This is fundamental in determining your attitude to the course.

2. SIX YEARS IS NOT A LONG TIME.

Take it from me, six years goes by in the twinkling (or two ) of an eye.

3. IT IS NOT HOW FAR, BUT HOW WELL.

You don't have to be perfect and know everything, but what you do know, know it well.

4. DON'T PROCRASTINATE.

Don't wait till tests and exams are coming up before you prepare for them. Read in convenient little bits after each day's lecture rather than a fire brigade approach when exams are near.

5. DON'T DEPRIVE YOURSELF OF SLEEP.

Except absolutely necessary. Even when necessary, sleep. Your brain will reward you with excellent recall, but you should have been following tip 4.

6. USE MNEMONICS OR CODES TO RECALL COMPLEX STUFF.

There is no Doctor that remembers absolutely everything, but we do have a way of recalling important details either by codes, diagrams, poems, or even songs.

7. HAVE HOBBIES.

This is essential to keep you balanced, hobbies and positive extra curricular activities keep you sane and may come in useful as alternate sources of income in the future.

8. KEEP EMOTION IN CHECK.

Positive or negative relationships have the potential of either building the medical student or totally destroying him or her.

9. HAVE A FAINT IDEA.

Of what you want to do after you graduate. Often times, this is a cross roads for most young doctors. 'To be or not to be.'

10. HAVE A ROLE MODEL.

Someone that inspires you, that you want to be like, for example Dr Ben Carson.

11. COPE WITH FAILURES.

Yes, only a very few go through medical school without failure, dust yourself and move on.

12. STARTED BUT YOU'VE LOST INTEREST.

My advice? Get your degree first then you can dump it for your true love.

Hope I have been of help?


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SAFETY IN THE WORK PLACE1.



HOW NOT TO ENCOURAGE A COLLEAGUE


The patient was slowly slipping away. . .

I had battled relentlessly to save his life; I was obviously losing the battle. I couldn't even secure an IV line for him; his veins, though visible had collapsed. Time was ticking away, I was helpless.

The patient was HIV positive and in a very bad state; I was conscious of the risks to myself continuosly trying to secure an IV line in him.

A doctor, seeing my helpless situation, came to my side and said. "Do be careful, hope you heard about the Doctor who died after being pricked with a needle used on an HIV positive patient?"

Now that's what I call encouragement.

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Tuesday, July 10, 2012

MILITARY PHYSICIAN.



It's amazing how you can be afraid of someone without exactly knowing why - but you dare not try to find out.

That was the kind of fear all the house officers had for colonel B. You just didn't try to disobey him, period.

Col. B was a Military Doctor and we were all interns in a Military hospital.

He had a lean physique, with a well groomed moustache that would make even Hercule Poirot green with envy, his uniform was always well starched with the creases in perfect alignment as if on attention; his army beret perched perfectly at an angle as if in a constant salute of its own

The most intriguing aspect of Col. B's dressing was his writing pens:

He had about five different pens, all neatly aligned in his breast pocket below his army badge; each with a different ink colour, each with a different function. He had them all - green, black, red, one was even a stamp. It was a delight to watch him select the pen he wanted to use for a particular function, signing or writing.

Col. B never took any nonsense; you had to have reviewed and made a summary of your patients before 0800 hours (8 a.m); Col B arrived for his ward round at 8 a.m - not 7:59am and not 8:01am.

Col. B walked briskly, it was a common sight to see house officers with their stethoscopes and papers flying, running, trying to keep up with him. But by far the most peculiar thing about Col. B was his car. It was a tiny open air vehicle, I restrain from calling it a convertible, with just enough room to fit his frame, smaller than any other vehicle in the hospital, probably a well kept relic of colonialization. It looked something like this:


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Saturday, July 7, 2012

A CONVERSATION IN ALCOHOL


The Patient came in with severe right upper abdominal pain and the following conversation ensued between us:

Me: "Do you take alcohol ?"

Patient: " Yes, very much so."

Me: " How many bottles a day?"

Patient: " I can't say."

Me: "Up to ten?"

Patient: "More than that."

Me: " Twenty?"

Patient: " More, I really can't count the amount."

Me: " How many cartons a day, One?"

Patient: " More than that depending on the supply."

Me ( getting bewildered): "Two cartons?"

Patient: " I drink until the supply is exhausted, no matter how much."

Me : " How long have you been drinking like this?"

Patient: " Its been a while."

Me: " Ten years?"

Patient: "More."

Me: " Twenty?"

Patient: " About that."

Me( Incredulous): " So you have been drinking cartons of beer daily for Twenty years?!"

Patient: "Yes."

Me: "Where do you work? A brewery?"

Patient: Smiles.

Me: " Do you smoke?"

Patient: " Yes, of course."

Me: " How many sticks of cigarette a day?"

Patient : " More like packets"

Me: " How many Packets?"

Patient: " I can't say"

ME : " One packet?"

Patient: " More than that."

Me: "How many years have you been smoking like this?"

Patient: "I can't remember, a long time."

Me: " Ten years?"

Patient: " No, more than that."

Me: " Twenty years?"

Patient: " About that."

Me (Gives up.)





N.B: The Right upper abdominal pain suggested the patient's liver was already affected.

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