Friday, March 11, 2011

Spitting fire

A personal story from the emergency department, in which I am very thankful for face masks. Very very thankful.

My resident injected the lidocaine into and around the peri-rectal abscess.  "Do you feel the burn?" she asked our patient, somewhat redundantly, as he yelped and writhed and tried to escape from the needle. He answered in the affirmative with a couple of choice - and quite colorful - words, and she nodded at me, handing over the scalpel. I felt the abscess again, feeling where it was fluctuant and spongy, and then, after testing to make sure the lidocaine was working, I stabbed the exact center of the abscess.

And I immediately cried out in surprise.

Because, see, the moment the scalpel touched the abscess, pus shot out, like good Ol' Faithful. My eyes closed instinctively, and when I finally opened them again, seemingly hours later but really probably no more than a few milliseconds, I was more than aware that the pus previously inside the abscess was now outside, sprayed across my thankfully mask-covered face. I started dry heaving and gagging. I looked furtively at my resident, hoping my mask was effectively shielding all of my grossed out facial expressions. She merely raised her eyebrows, waiting for me to complete the procedure, even though I wanted to dash from the room and into the closest shower. But my feet stayed firmly planted to the ground, as my fingers continued to coax more fluid from the abscess.

I kept my mouth pursed tightly shut, hoping that my mask was strong enough and pus-proof enough that none of it would seep through the paper-like material and onto my lips.

After packing the cavity, we let our patient know that the procedure was finished, washed our hands, and stepped out of the room. Where I promptly tore off my mask and rinsed out my mouth.

Moral of the story: wear a face mask, kids, for even the simplest of procedures. And don't be ashamed to wear those nerdy lab goggles. Masks and glasses are infinitely better than pus in the eye/mouth. Infinitely, exponentially, eons better.