- 1: This is a full night of sleep on the uncomfortable bunk beds in the GWU call room. On occasion, I’ve had a night with one consult. Only once in 2 years did I have a night in which not a single consult was called from the ED and all the patients on the psychiatric unit slept as soundly as I did.
- 4: There’s a man I’ve seen in the ED seven times over the last 2 years. That’s more than 10% of my nights on call, so we’re well acquainted – though he has trouble remembering me. He’s an alcoholic, though I know the official diagnosis is alcohol use disorder–severe. His addiction is, indeed, severe; I’ve never seen him sober. Every time, he tells me how his wife is cheating on him, and he’s been depressed since his eldest son was killed in a shooting 10 years ago. He sits under a bridge and drinks liquor until he either goes home or to an ED. I feel for him. Several times, other residents and I have transferred him to a local detoxification unit with discharge to a 30-day drug rehab program. It doesn’t stick. The last time I evaluated him, I sent him home to his wife with a cab voucher. My emotional pain is equal parts pity and frustration over my ineffectual impact on his life. He, and others like him, used to cause me more emotional pain. Eventually, the pain is dulled.
Dr. Jacqueline Posada
- 5: The mean pain scale score of a GWU resident on call is 5.13. Analysis of the survey data showed the emotional pain score is correlated with the specific resident on call, and my personal average is 5.04. From the way residents talk about being on call, I expected the mean pain scale to be higher. There is no vignette for the mean score; I think of it as all the unremarkable calls blurred together.
- 8: Emotional pain rises with a fraught clinical scenario. One weeknight, I had to involuntarily commit a young lawyer who was psychotic yet adept at hiding it. The lawyer was brought into the ED by police after his brother in Chicago called them to his apartment. The patient had called the brother while standing on his 10th-floor balcony talking nonsensically about conspiracy theories and why he needed to end his life to save the world. In the ED, the patient denied every single part of the story. When I called the brother for collateral, his distress moved me as a both sibling and psychiatrist. The lawyer denied the story up and down, called his brother a liar and the favorite child, and refused to sign into the psychiatric hospital voluntarily. I felt I had no choice but to place him in an involuntary hold. It was a long and busy night, and I tried to put myself in his position and that of his brother who had called the police. Eight is the emotional pain of involuntarily committing someone whose story isn’t black and white. Eight is the pain of exercising authority and beneficence over patient autonomy.
Residents’ Corner
Reflections on providing on-call overnight care for psychiatric patients
