IV

Do you know how you can repay a doctor? But so from a good heart? Not? Then read ...;)

Today morning at the Department under the slogan: VISIT WITH MRS. PROFESSOR.

Everyone who has ever been to a university clinic knows what it looks like. The Professor, along with the entourage of doctors and nurses, and often also students, walks from one pain bed to another, wondering if the delinquent resting in him is sure to be treated well, if the doctor knows what he is treating him for and if he finally does it well (treatment means). In the time of the National Health Fund, it also means whether it is to be still lying here, and whether it is not treated too expensive. The Professor with the entourage is usually a crowd of coats of about twenty people.

The visit came to a patient lying by the window, led by one of the younger doctors, who, full of nervousness with the "light" of the Professor, started to talk about the patient. In the middle of the first sentence, the professor interrupted him, asking the patient directly how she was feeling.

She was a roaring woman of fifty, who did not regret the money for her own food, and after feeding a few children. The patient started the litany to the Sacred Heart, Professor, how it all hurts her, how a little heart knocks her hand with any movement, that she is still not good (as evidenced by the remnants of bananas and oranges on the table by the bed), that she is close to death and that medical aid looks and begs for it ...

The professor, after listening to the prayer and reviewing the patient's examinations, stated that she did not see anything disturbing here, but if the woman felt so bad, we would also do a coronary angiography. The female was about to start kissing the Professor's hands when she remembered that she was sick and only sighed heavily. The visit went on ...

As we were four beds away, we heard a sudden scream.

Somehow, a wasp, attracted by the smells of the leftover orange, came to visit you. Every insect did not know that the patient apparently suffered from some kind of person-phobia. The patient made a few sudden swings of her hand, which did not make the slightest impression on the greedy animal, except maybe the desire to get to know the intruder, who in this way repels the tasty remnants. To this closer interest, the patient reacted with another scream, a sudden upright standing on the bed, grasping a pillow, and several vigorous attempts at the God-Spirit of the guilty insect. The professor has already started to say something about her calm behavior, when OSA was tucked under the hem of the patient's nightgown, probably due to the turbulence of the air of pillow attacks. We heard a scream from which the windows trembled, the patient, with a flash of madness in her eyes, torn off her ethereal clothes with one move and let her dance on this bed in complete negligence, and roll her shirt over her head, and yell invectives to tact, and do squats or two jumps . We became speechless with this "reality show", and I prayed in my heart that the bed springs would be durable, because the X-ray is broken, and the trauma is far away. jiggle.

Eventually, a doctor and two nurses caught up with her and they made her sit on the bed with difficulty (the wasp, in all the confusion, had disappeared somewhere).

The professor said:

His lungs and heart are healthy, discharge today. First psychiatric consultation ...

* * * * *

Thanks to the beautiful aura, the May Day night was warm, so many "picnics" were extended until late at night, very late.

I was "lucky" to spend that first May night in the hospital on duty, and because apart from me, there were also only elderly nurses, and most of the patients went home for a "long weekend", I could count on going to bed early (not that I was very happy with the comfort of the doctor's office).

Of course I was woken up at three in the morning (in the morning?)

A nurse from the emergency room called that a man brought a woman and "hysterically" demands "rescue".

As you sleep (if you sleep at all) in a gown on duty, after throwing off the blanket and quickly recovering over the sink, after two minutes I appeared in the emergency room.

There was a young, twenty-year-old woman on a couch, in heavily rumpled (and partially dressed inside out) clothes, pale skin on arms and legs, but intense purple on her face. A nurse was just measuring her blood pressure. , a little over thirty years old, who at the sight of me threw himself at me (literally !!!) with a shout:

- May the Lord save us !!!

The shout was loud, and even without it, there was already a nervous atmosphere in the infirmary, which was heated by the nurse, saying that the patient had 180/70 and a pulse of 120 / min.

So I definitely pushed the guy out of the way and approached the patient, at the same time "prescribing" the preparation of the intravenous infusion, but before I could ask the patient at least one question, I heard the guy roar:

- THE DOCTORS COME ABOUT TIME !!! May the Lord help us, because they will kill us !!!

Something touched me. I didn't ask who. I asked when?

Finding that about 45 minutes I calmly went to the first aid kit and gave the woman Postinor *

Most of the symptoms (at least for a guy) disappeared right away. The woman had to be allowed to calm down. Long live picnics.

* POSTINOR - one of the few contraceptive preparations that we use "after" and not "before". The elapsed time plays a very important role.

* * * * *

Many of you, Dear Fighters and Dear Fighters, have expressed "gratitude" to a doctor in various ways in their lives. Sometimes it was a simple "thank you", sometimes an enclosure in an envelope, there are flowers (I know people who usually say that they don't drink flowers ), there are alcoholic beverages. During home visits to rural hamlets, one sees dozens of eggs, various no-fledged birds, and carrion of all kinds. This is supposed to be the custom. People approach this custom differently ...

I happened to be on duty at the cardiology emergency room, where an unconscious "man in the prime of life" was brought to me by the half-night wheel The patient was without documents, but because he did not smell of alcohol, the ambulance decided to bring him to me, not to the sobering-up center.

Already in the first examination, I did not like a few things, the ECG and a quick blood analysis confirmed my suspicion of a heart attack. As we live in the European Union and we have the Health Service at a high European level (...) I was able to quickly (only three hours) convene a cardiological intervention team in the person of a hemodynamic doctor (this kind of plumber, only sews blocked pipes called commonly arteries, in the heart) and assisting staff. During the intoxicating moments of waiting, I revived the patient twice, who did everything he could to move to another world. I managed not to let him.

The patient endured all the tortures to which we subjected him all night and in the morning he even regained consciousness in his kindness. And here we met a total surprise - the first thing I heard was: "Job Twaju Mati, szto were you standing?"

The further dialogue looked a bit more cultural, it turned out that the patient (Georgian, nota bene) knows the basics of the Polish language (Ku..wa, Pierd..le etc.) so I could get a normal medical interview with him. He stayed under my care for a whole week, and the tests confirmed that the coronary vessels were completely unblocked - of course for the money of the Polish taxpayer.

When issuing the excerpt and making recommendations as to what to do (I was strangely calm that I would fray my tongue and the patient would not comply) after a few moments the patient switched to verbal expressions of gratitude. From his gibberish (sorry, I'm not an outstanding linguist), I understood that he was aware that if it weren't for me ... and so on.

Finally he lowered his voice and said:

- "Doctor, I am not going to give you money, because you will get this one from those jokes from my room. I will give you a phone call to myself"

Surprised, I started to say that it is not necessary, that there is nothing to talk about, that everyone would do it, that it is my profession and crap like that. The patient, however, suddenly grabbed my shirt by the neck and pulled me towards him saying straight to the face:

- "Take the Lord with a good heart! And call the Lord! I know people who can arrange everything and everyone!"

After that, it was not appropriate to refuse….

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