The Stuff of Nightmares

I was blog browsing today, and I always find it quite interesting how bloggers can put their relationships out there. Isn't that a lot of pressure? Isn't that something very personal to share?

I suppose it's no more personal than sharing your nightmares. And I'm still wondering whether sharing mine is the right thing to do. They disturb me. They mainly involve work and death.

I suppose it's quite normal to dream about work, I was speaking to a good friend this morning, she's been having nightmares about work too. She's about to start lecturing second year students and dreamt that she drew a blank about a something she was trying to teach and the students had to teach her.

My work is somewhat uglier, so are my nightmares.

I've been working in ICU for the past month and a bit, these are critically ill patients and so the incidence of death is higher than in the general patient population. I've had a few deaths, they've been bothering me.

Last night I fell asleep dreaming of dying and no one being able to save me. The only other doctor around was the O&G registrar and he couldn't intubate me. I land in ICU and I'm aware, but everyone around me is unaware of how aware I am. I am unable to communicate. No one can save me, they're all standing around talking about how futile it is and all I want to tell them is not to give up, because I want to live.

Before waking up, I dreamt that I was seeing a little boy who had been sexually abused and had cigarette burns on his scrotum. I felt powerless to help him besides dressing his wounds. The system was failing him, completely.

It reminded me of a boy of about 7 years old, whom I saw in a clinic as an intern. His mother had sent him to the shop and he was raped en route. I had to examine him of course, but when I asked him to show me where it was painful, and he had to remove his trousers, he burst into tears. I barely held mine back.

I recently found it somewhat amusing when a colleague, whom I'm not at all close to, called me to ask me if I was ok, what with my recent spate of deaths. (All teenagers, by the way.)

As South African doctors, we're just expected to deal with it. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen, they say. Deal with it, learn from it, don't make the same mistakes next time.

This morning, while taking morning bloods from a patient, I splattered blood all over myself, the patient and the patient's bed. It was actually less than 3ml of blood, but the force with which I was trying to inject it into the blood tube, propelled little droplets in all directions. Thankfully the patient lived through it, unfortunately she was completely conscious, and wasn't too happy to have blood spattered in her face. I hope I haven't given her nightmares!!