No pethidine for you, epilepsy lady!
Mar. 27th, 2008 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
squeefulfishWell that was a very fun exam to do. It's the first time I've gone into one of them and panicked at the sight of the first question - iron supplementation - and then beamed at the rest of the paper. Beamed, I say. The head of department came over to see if I was alright because I looked a bit insane. But it was in the good way.
Urg, iron supplementation? I know I know something on that but nowhere near enough to write decently for 45 minutes. Thinking back, well, I possibly do know enough to have scraped a pass on that question. But it was fine cos the other option was the pharmacokinetics of both pregnant women and the neonate which as luck would have, I knew. Inside out. So here, have a nice factual piece and given how much I'd learned about jaundice I was bloody well getting it in there somehow! Managed it without it being too contrived (because le liver is very important in metabolism of drugs, a neonate with severe jaundice has a bit of a problem because the liver's working so hard to conjugate the bilirubin that it sees drugs and says "WAIT!")
But the other two questions, oh man! What fun! A question on how a midwife may address the issue of rising Caesarean Section rates and if it's possible to stem the tide at all. Bother, have just remembered that I forgot to mention previous section as a cause for subsequent ones. Poop. (Don't take that to mean that it's not possible to have a vaginal birth after CS - it bloody well is. I know cos I caught a VBAC baby! Listen to the midwife, she knows something.) Oh well, was bloody pleased with the rest of the answer, citing recent research and dragging in what little I know for my sociology module too. My sociology lecturer would be so proud of me, if she knew who I was :) Oh, and ah! I even brought in the research I'd done for Presentation of Doom. Whaddya know, it's all interlinked! Just like bodies. Which are great.
Wrote further on the necessity of utilising the multidisciplinary team to the most in the case of the women with epilepsy (didn't quite use the title, but not far off) and access to maternity services in Ireland. I had so much fun writing the last two that I almost didn't want the exam to end. Came out somewhat confused though, as the work I used was a little bit more relevant for tomorrow's exam, but like I said it just shows how everything is interlinked. Beamed again at head of department on the way out who'd hung around to gauge reactions. The maniacal laughter that we'd experienced on the way in was replaced by actual proper laughter of joy.
Back to base on D'Olier Street for more coffee, though no talk of dipping babies in either paint of marzipan. We just alluded to it instead, and giggled on my ability to work folic acid into nearly every question I've answered so far this week. The first years were sitting on the comfy sofas and we contemplated showing them the exam paper, just to scare the bajaysus out of them. But that would have been mean, and we try to be nice. Sometimes being naughty is more fun though.
And then I got home to an empty house. Which is unusual for me, there's always _someone_ at home because of the crazy waking hours difference between different family members. No-one at home can just mean it's grocery shopping day, or it means there's something wrong. Unfortunately it was both. Niamh was at a swimming camp yesterday and when she went to the toilet the door slammed on her finger, blood everywhere poor child sent home. Wouldn't let anyone but my mother even look at it and she screamed so much when she did that I was on the verge of picking her up and dragging her to hospital there and then. I know screams, I know pain. I'm not used to pain that doesn't have a definite end point, but that doesn't mean that I'm not used to seeing the signs of someone who's in a lot of pain. Mum disagreed, even though the child's nail was hanging on by sheer force of will and the finger-tip was not healthy looking. Still, it's a sick people thing so I bowed to her superior experience. Filled the poor baby up with as much paracetamol as her little liver will allow us give, bandaged up the finger and sent her home after dinner.
Today Eva brought her to the pharmacist to see if there was anything she'd recommend, both for pain and for healing. Get that child to the hospital was the reaction. So she did. And Niamh's now been admitted after having seen some specialist or other. The words X-ray and crushed were used. And my poor little niece is in hospital and I don't like this. She's such a brave little thing and I'll have to hurry home tomorrow instead of having my promised boozy lunch because I want to see the little darling.
And that was my day. Fell asleep round 5, woke up at 9 (and then again at 11, when I actually got out of the bed.) Made some breakfast and shall spend the next 6 hours frantically cramming for tomorrow and then I'm done. The entire weekend off! All mine!
I'm gonna be bored, aren't I?
Urg, iron supplementation? I know I know something on that but nowhere near enough to write decently for 45 minutes. Thinking back, well, I possibly do know enough to have scraped a pass on that question. But it was fine cos the other option was the pharmacokinetics of both pregnant women and the neonate which as luck would have, I knew. Inside out. So here, have a nice factual piece and given how much I'd learned about jaundice I was bloody well getting it in there somehow! Managed it without it being too contrived (because le liver is very important in metabolism of drugs, a neonate with severe jaundice has a bit of a problem because the liver's working so hard to conjugate the bilirubin that it sees drugs and says "WAIT!")
But the other two questions, oh man! What fun! A question on how a midwife may address the issue of rising Caesarean Section rates and if it's possible to stem the tide at all. Bother, have just remembered that I forgot to mention previous section as a cause for subsequent ones. Poop. (Don't take that to mean that it's not possible to have a vaginal birth after CS - it bloody well is. I know cos I caught a VBAC baby! Listen to the midwife, she knows something.) Oh well, was bloody pleased with the rest of the answer, citing recent research and dragging in what little I know for my sociology module too. My sociology lecturer would be so proud of me, if she knew who I was :) Oh, and ah! I even brought in the research I'd done for Presentation of Doom. Whaddya know, it's all interlinked! Just like bodies. Which are great.
Wrote further on the necessity of utilising the multidisciplinary team to the most in the case of the women with epilepsy (didn't quite use the title, but not far off) and access to maternity services in Ireland. I had so much fun writing the last two that I almost didn't want the exam to end. Came out somewhat confused though, as the work I used was a little bit more relevant for tomorrow's exam, but like I said it just shows how everything is interlinked. Beamed again at head of department on the way out who'd hung around to gauge reactions. The maniacal laughter that we'd experienced on the way in was replaced by actual proper laughter of joy.
Back to base on D'Olier Street for more coffee, though no talk of dipping babies in either paint of marzipan. We just alluded to it instead, and giggled on my ability to work folic acid into nearly every question I've answered so far this week. The first years were sitting on the comfy sofas and we contemplated showing them the exam paper, just to scare the bajaysus out of them. But that would have been mean, and we try to be nice. Sometimes being naughty is more fun though.
And then I got home to an empty house. Which is unusual for me, there's always _someone_ at home because of the crazy waking hours difference between different family members. No-one at home can just mean it's grocery shopping day, or it means there's something wrong. Unfortunately it was both. Niamh was at a swimming camp yesterday and when she went to the toilet the door slammed on her finger, blood everywhere poor child sent home. Wouldn't let anyone but my mother even look at it and she screamed so much when she did that I was on the verge of picking her up and dragging her to hospital there and then. I know screams, I know pain. I'm not used to pain that doesn't have a definite end point, but that doesn't mean that I'm not used to seeing the signs of someone who's in a lot of pain. Mum disagreed, even though the child's nail was hanging on by sheer force of will and the finger-tip was not healthy looking. Still, it's a sick people thing so I bowed to her superior experience. Filled the poor baby up with as much paracetamol as her little liver will allow us give, bandaged up the finger and sent her home after dinner.
Today Eva brought her to the pharmacist to see if there was anything she'd recommend, both for pain and for healing. Get that child to the hospital was the reaction. So she did. And Niamh's now been admitted after having seen some specialist or other. The words X-ray and crushed were used. And my poor little niece is in hospital and I don't like this. She's such a brave little thing and I'll have to hurry home tomorrow instead of having my promised boozy lunch because I want to see the little darling.
And that was my day. Fell asleep round 5, woke up at 9 (and then again at 11, when I actually got out of the bed.) Made some breakfast and shall spend the next 6 hours frantically cramming for tomorrow and then I'm done. The entire weekend off! All mine!
I'm gonna be bored, aren't I?
