Friday night, I sat vigil at two of my patients’ bedsides, as their sick-but-stable status turned into sick sick sick. I poured fluids into their veins and started them on medications to attempt to keep their blood pressures high. I worried and fretted and worried some more. I kept them alive that night, but by morning, they were even sicker. I cried that morning even before rounds with the attending, not having slept, but knowing that I should have done something more. Hindsight, that perfect microscope, tells me that I should have placed arterial lines and expanded antibiotic coverage. I should have intubated one of them sooner. Maybe it would have made a difference. But things weren’t so clear at three in the morning and even 5 days later, it’s still not entirely clear.

They’re both dying right now. I’ll probably end up declaring their deaths tomorrow on call.

It’s been a hard month, in varying shades of good and bad. It’s been a busy month, a month that hasn’t left a lot of time for recollection and organization of thoughts. I’ll hopefully be back to regular posting come September.