Superglue

Who knew Superglue could create so much of a problem?

As usual, I get a head of myself. I’m halfway through my term here in Alice Springs; three weeks of working in the Emergency Room, making snap decisions, prescribing treatments, injecting drugs and saving lives.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

As a student, I get to see the sickest of the sick patients – but only from across the room. My time is spent working on the folks who have coughs-and-colds, strained backs, and – if I’m really nice to the nurse at the front desk and promise her chocolate – suspected fractures on occasion (they like to throw me a bone every once in a while…). I work up the patients, come to some kinda logical conclusion of what’s wrong, and write down a plan of what should be done. I then talk to a senior doctor who cocks their head at me, tells me my logic is flawed, how my plan will only tell me how foolish I was in the first place to even think of medicine as a career, and how maybe I should see if the traveling circus needs any extras for their Dwarfs-on-Parade act.

But maybe that’s just my interpretation of their laughing at me.

One of the things they do let me do in the ER is a lot of suturing; other than the occasional drop-stitch, it’s really hard to screw up – therefore, safe for me to do. While the first 10 patients were neat – I found a neat little backstitch that speeds things up – the next 10 became a bit of a bore. It was then one of the nurses suggested I try this medical-grade Superglue on this kid who came in with a cut to the side of his forehead. I say medical-grade with good cause: this is pretty-much the same stuff you can get at any local store, just packaged for doctors and sold for about 10 times as much. Anyway, always one to enjoy a good industrial-grade adhesive, I put on gloves, cleaned the kids boo-boo, and got to work with the glue.

Things were going well. The kid had quit crying, mum had calmed down and was out using the phone, and the gash was closing nicely. It was when I got to the end of his cut that I realized where the little finger of my glove was:

Stuck to the kid’s wound.

I tug my hand, his head comes with it. While normally this would have provided hours of amusement, I decided removing my hand from the glove might be a better idea. I knew I needed to move fast to get this glove off of him – not so much that the glue was setting, but I didn’t know when mum would get back. I grab the box, read the instructions and realize this stuff isn’t meant to come loose. I look around and realize I am surrounded by tons of medical equipment, none of which is going to help. With the kid screaming, and sweat pouring off my forehead, I took the most logical course of action possible:

I yanked ‘til the glove came loose.

And with that, it’s the weekend. Some of the more observant among you may have noticed this hitting your inbox a little earlier than usual; I’m heading out this morning to go to Uluru/Ayers Rock with a classmate. I’ll have tons of pictures and stories next week, but for now I need to go and pack my gear. Not to mention getting this glove off my hand…

As always, Love to All and keep working on your 101 List!
Bryan