Valuable Learning Experience
Well, a monstrous fuck-up this morning.
Back in medical school we had these things called "valuable learning experiences". A VLE is something extraordinarily painful and maybe seemingly futile that teaches you something, usually on a spinal reflex, "avoid this shit at all costs" kind of level. When you step in a rabbit-trap you get a valuable learning experience.
Something you did + some terrible consequence + time to "reflect and appraise"= VLE.
Well, we in the ED had a VLE today. And what happened wasn't all our fault, and we did a lot of good, and maybe even if we did the thing we did wrong right it wouldn't have changed anything, but the consequences of this may be exceedingly dire.
I am sitting at home so tired I can barely type. I have to sleep. And while I sleep I'm going see if I can change the blueprint in my head, rewire my personality, tear some circuits out and hammer something new and radically different together, change my mind and heart and personality by eleven o'clock tonight, rewite the whole fucking thing.
Tonight, possibly, I will write what went wrong with the blonde woman, and why I found myself performing only partially successful CPR in the Xray room on a woman barely out of her teens.
John Mk I.
Back in medical school we had these things called "valuable learning experiences". A VLE is something extraordinarily painful and maybe seemingly futile that teaches you something, usually on a spinal reflex, "avoid this shit at all costs" kind of level. When you step in a rabbit-trap you get a valuable learning experience.
Something you did + some terrible consequence + time to "reflect and appraise"= VLE.
Well, we in the ED had a VLE today. And what happened wasn't all our fault, and we did a lot of good, and maybe even if we did the thing we did wrong right it wouldn't have changed anything, but the consequences of this may be exceedingly dire.
I am sitting at home so tired I can barely type. I have to sleep. And while I sleep I'm going see if I can change the blueprint in my head, rewire my personality, tear some circuits out and hammer something new and radically different together, change my mind and heart and personality by eleven o'clock tonight, rewite the whole fucking thing.
Tonight, possibly, I will write what went wrong with the blonde woman, and why I found myself performing only partially successful CPR in the Xray room on a woman barely out of her teens.
John Mk I.
posted by Bronze John at 9:03 AM
1 Comments:
Asshat - that is so deep.
John - Its only 'cos she was blonde and young, if she was 82 with AF and called Mrs Cheesecake, would you still feel this way?
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