‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (in the Pediatric Emergency Department)

In lieu of a traditional episode this holiday season I wanted to share a reading of the Pediatric Emergency Medicine version of a famous Christmas poem.

Transcript

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and I’m working a shift,
The symptoms were varied, the pace was quite swift.
The screens glowed with orders, the rooms filled with care,
In hopes that discharge summaries soon would be there.

The nurses were moving with hustle and speed,
While families recounted each child’s urgent need.
And I at my computer, my coffee in hand,
Prepared for the onslaught that none could have planned.

When out in the lobby there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
Away to the triage I flew like a flash,
Dodging spilled apple juice and a child with a rash.

The ambulances were wailing, the scene quite a sight,
As the complaints rolled in on this hectic night.
When what to my weary eyes did appear,
But a febrile infant, his parents in fear.

A nursemaid’s elbow in need of a tug,
And a kid with a cough wrapped tight in a hug.
A forehead lac with blood streaming red,
And a teen who proclaimed, “I think I’m half-dead!”

With quick-thinking teamwork, the cases we tamed,
And I whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now flu! Now croup! Now migraines and pain!
On seizures! On sepsis! That ankle is sprained!

To the trauma bay stat, through triage with speed,
Move quickly, move calmly, and meet every need!”
As the snow flakes that fall when wild winter winds fly,
We hustled and triaged as new patients arrived.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard down the hall,
The sound of retching – a vomiting call.
Ondansetron ordered, the nurse prepping the dose,
I saw a pale toddler, looking morose.

He was sick from his tummy to the tip of his nose,
And the sounds of his misery steadily rose.
His eyes were all sunken, his cheeks far too pale,
But a popsicle bribe led to a triumphant exhale.

The shift rolled along with splints left and right,
Broken forearms galore on this holiday night.
And ketamine laughter soon filled the air,
As a lac repair finished with great skill and care.

Abdominal pains brought more to the bays,
With parents repeating, “He’s been sick for days.”
A scan ruled out danger, the appendix intact,
While the next patient arrived with an asthma attack.

The hours wore on, the crowd didn’t cease,
Yet amidst all the chaos, we found moments of peace.
A mom’s grateful smile, a child’s sleepy yawn,
Reminded us why we keep carrying on.

So I sat at the computer and typed one last note,
Cleared my inbox of tasks and the orders I wrote.
And I heard myself whisper as I turned off the light,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a calm night!”