While cleaning up and sorting my external hard drive, I saw one photo of me way back in nursing school wearing an OR scrub suit for a case completion duty. I love that special area despite the strict protocols and expected high precision, along with the blood and smells. I also enjoyed Operating Room case completion because it allows me to enhance my practical skills with lesser pressure since it’s not graded. Plus it’s more fun when assigned in the same clinical group with your buddies!
It was halfway in one of those completion duties when I got paired with my college bestie Marc – a vivacious summa cum laude material – with him as a scrub nurse and me his circulating. We were both thrilled since it’s the first case we’d be working on together. Then the NOD notified us that a case was called in, so I went to the assigned OR theatre to prepare together with her. A few minutes later, the patient came in the OR – a middle-aged lady for Cesarean Section. My Clinical Instructor knew that this would be my 10th CS case, so she was pretty confident I can do the necessary preparations without her breathing down my neck.
Well, nothing prepared me when I took off the blanket draping the patient’s lower half and saw two tiny arms sticking out of her vagina. Before I could say anything, I just saw the small fingers twitch slightly. Wide-eyed, I turned to my CI but she assured me that it was just a reflex and that the baby is long dead. After all, the baby was stuck in that position for four (4) hours now so the chances of survival are zero. I looked at my patient, she was too weak to say anything and was half-asleep. I felt heartbroken seeing her situation but was also apprehensive. I know what I saw, and I just had this strong feeling that maybe this baby was still alive somehow. But the NOD came over and with finality said, “He’s dead, and it’s one of those days you get these sad cases. You’ll get used to it.” That was harsh but a reality of this profession. I also found out in the endorsement notes that during assessment in the ER, no heartbeat was heard via Doppler hence the baby was declared deceased.
Minutes later, the operation started and it’s the first CS I’ve assisted that was so solemn even the boisterous OB-Gyne who performed the procedure was unusually quiet except for giving instructions. She took the little one out of the uterus and said “baby out” while she laid him gently on the mother’s torso. Almost automatically, I went a little closer to the OR table to see this little angel gone too soon. Clasping my hand in silent prayer, I looked at him and to everyone’s surprise, his limbs twitched, and he croaked in an attempt to breathe. We were all stunned and looked at each other like “OHEMGEE!!! He’s alive!!!” The anesthesiologist immediately yelled out “PEDIA! PEDIA! WE NEED PEDIA!” that sent the Circulating NOD out of the theatre then came back with the pediatrician in tow, who scooped up the baby swiftly and went to the adjacent OR theatre to care for the newborn.
Joy and hope flooded the somber room that the OB-Gyne cried out excitedly to the mother, “Ma’am, buhi imong baby!!! (Ma’am, your baby is alive!!!)”.
I was a little teary-eyed as we had this celebration of life. I looked at our patient as her eyes filled with tears of joy. Then the doctor asked her,
“Ma’am lalaki imong baby, unsay imong ipangalan? (Ma’am, you have a baby boy, what would you name him?”.
I guess it was the overwhelming feeling of happiness mixed with anesthesia that she just smiled back at us wordlessly. Then our CI loudly said to the mother,
“Ma’am, gusto ka ug Marc? (Ma’am, do you like Marc?)”, the patient nodded happily.
The usually chatty Marc was speechless too. Well, he just went on a rollercoaster ride of emotions being the scrub nurse, who not only has to deal with the pressures of the procedure but also of the unexpected turn of events. When he heard that the baby will be named after him, he let out a laugh as the doctor told him “Oh, may miracle baby ka na! Swerte yan! (You now have a miracle baby! That’s lucky!)”
It was truly a memorable case for all of us as the procedure went well and ended in a cheery mood. We were all glad to hear from the pediatrician that the baby was okay and miraculously survived such an ordeal.
Looking back on that duty, I could say it’s one of the testaments to God’s will. If it’s meant to be, it will be as they say. I don’t know what became of baby Marc after that, yet I do think that he is destined for something great. Although I know very well that a case like his is rare, I couldn’t help but affirm my belief that hope blooms even when things may seem dire.
ladyveilchen writes 