So. . . .two days ago I float off my happy little unit to a medical telemetry unit. No sooner do I take report on my patients than I get a phone call from Pharmacy.
"About that fentanyl order for Ms Smith in Room 4. . . . ."
"Hang on," I say, "Let me grab her chart, I just got report and haven't taken a close look at it yet."
I grab the chart, flip through to the last order written (about 10 minutes before shift change) and say, "You mean that order that Doctor Jones wrote for 2 MILLIGRAMS of fentanyl?"
The pharmacist says, yes, that was exactly the order she was talking about.
I told her that I would contact the doctor immediately and get a clarification.
So I call the doc. . . . . . . . .
"Hi, Doctor Jones, this is KC from unit **. I'm taking care of Miss Smith, and I wanted to talk to you about the 2mg order you wrote for fentanyl."
"Yeah, what's wrong with it?" (This said in a very surly, belligerent tone of voice.)
At this point, I thought I had heard wrong. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I *asked* you what was wrong with the order??!!" the doctor replied.
"Well, since the usual range of a fentanyl dose is 25-50 MICROGRAMS in this type of situation we may want to re-write your previous order for 2 MILLIGRAMS."
"Why would I want to do that? I was just up on the floor and wrote you an order!!" The doctor is sounding very angry at this point.
At this point, I'm afraid I quit being nice.
"Well Doctor, since the dose you wrote would kill the patient, I thought you might want to give me a different one."
And July was months and months ago. . . . . . . .
I'm sure she was probably sleep deprived and was thinking morphine instead of fentanyl when she wrote the order, but still. . . . . . . . .
This is why I love floating. It makes me so very appreciative of my home floor's patient population, our PAs, our Residents, and our Attendings.