What should have been quite a quite on call yesterday had turned 180 degrees into 'the battle for internal jugular vein' by midnoon. Not since the Japs surprised the Yankee navy armada in a remote Pacific naval base called Pearl Harbour, has human history witnessed the kind of shock and awe I get when I found out that I had to perform an elective internal jugular vein catheterisation on a warm Saturday afternoon, for a what supposed to be a regular haemodialyis.
Despite a massive radar support via an ultrasound machine, the vein seem to shy away from my 16 gauge needle.
Thank God I didn't hear any 'popping sound', the last thing I want on my bloody hands today is an iatrogenic pneumothorax, bilaterally.
Have I renewed my medical practice insurance policy? Gulp!
Despite a massive radar support via an ultrasound machine, the vein seem to shy away from my 16 gauge needle.
Thank God I didn't hear any 'popping sound', the last thing I want on my bloody hands today is an iatrogenic pneumothorax, bilaterally.
Have I renewed my medical practice insurance policy? Gulp!
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