Today, I was the official code captain for a real code for the first time in my life. I wasn't the person standing at the door trying to learn how to manage a critical patient yet stay out of everyone's way. I wasn't the person placing orders for the medications that were administered and the portable films that were performed. I wasn't even the person at the bedside bagging the patient while following the orders of an attending. I was the person who entered the scene to find inappropriate bagging and lack of coordinated resuscitation who subtly took charge, took over performing chest compressions, and began directing my very limited team on how to manage this patient. I even decided when to stop after 20 minutes of CPR with no resultant pulse. There was no attending, no back-up to call, no one more knowledgeable than I on whom I could rely.
It's difficult to explain how I feel following such an experience. It was exciting to take charge, because despite my quiet personality, I am a leader at heart and was able to make sure things got done as well as they were able to be. But I'm also incredibly sad. She didn't make it. I was the one who decided when to stop. That's an enormous responsibility... to say we've done what we can but this is the end. It's a very painful decision to make, especially on a child who had seemed relatively well just two hours ago on rounds.
The experience has given me a lot to think about and is one that I'll not soon forget...
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