Agonal Aunt

A consult from the specialist in bad advice. Volume 1.

The following are a series of queries from desperate subscribers. If you have something you need Agonal Aunt to help with - a doomed workplace romance, declining standards of hospital canteen food, hideous bodily disfigurement - please slide into the DMs for emr.poetry (IG) or message me through a paid subscription here!

‘How can I effectively slide into the Epic DMs/chat of a hot PICU nurse when I’ve seen them during my neuro consults?’

Have we learnt nothing from the recent Tameside Hospital scandal in which an anaesthetist stepped out of an ongoing surgery for a ‘comfort break’ in order to have sex with a nurse? The hospital is no place for romantic pursuits, sexual or otherwise, and the only discharges we should be edging towards are those of the patients going home.

But, if you insist on this reckless course of action, then consider employing some gross medical negligence to your advantage. For instance, try charting something incorrectly - perhaps a lethal dose of Keppra - then hurriedly message the PICU nurse advising her of your mistake and how the near-miss really got your heart racing - much like it does every time you are around her. Technically, then, you’ve ‘saved’ the patient, and advised her of how unbelievably tacky you are. Once on more friendly terms, you could send messages like: ‘Have you got a 256Hz tuning fork there? Because I’m feeling some good vibes from you’; ‘Are you Wernicke’s encephalopathy? Because you make me feel ataxic and forget who I am’; ‘Are you movement against full resistance? Because you’re a 5/5.’ The list is endless.

By the way I’m deeply impressed that your EMR has a direct messaging function. Instead of leaving passive aggressive notes for all to see, but really only meant to victimise some poor intern on the gen surg team, you can now cyberbully them directly. Epic really is the superior EMR.

‘My workplace has put a suggestion box for ways we can support each other, and I can’t think of anything.’

I have a question for you: have you considered if you are actually a psychopath? I mean not to cause offence, simply to state whether this staggering lack of empathy for your fellow employees could indicate a deep-seated pathology that speaks to your moral value as a human. As I said - no offence.

Nonetheless, have you considered asking your colleagues if they are OK? Text them, ‘RU OK?’ and hope to Mother Mary they text you back ‘nb, hbu?’. How about wearing crazy socks once a year? How about every day? Word has it this is the final, definitive cure for mental illness. Gabor Maté is very good on this.

‘A colleague of mine was passed over for a permanent position in my department because of (insert reasons here) but continued to be brought in to cover shifts, rubbing salt in the wound. He was also included in the department email of upcoming rosters (which didn’t have his name on it, more salt). He ‘replied all’ to the entire department and exec saying “can you explain why I’m being sent this roster when I’ve been ignored and passed over. Is this some kind of pathetic joke?” Intel says the ‘reply all’ was deliberate. Is this good practice for the rest of us going forward? Are we all actually underutilising the ‘reply all’ function? Could this be the secret to emotional wellness, if we let those inner thoughts out to the whole department and exec team? It seems really fun.’

Well, I’m sure a certain medical admin from the Hunter New England health network may disagree. That particular saga should teach us that the Reply All function can be used for both good as well as evil. With great broadband comes great responsibility. One day, when I was working for a particular state health system, someone made the grave error of sending a fairly innocuous email to the entirety of… well… the state health system. Doctors, nurses, physios, dieticians, speech pathologists, medical administration, ward podiatrists, and cleaners all replied, continuing on the cursed cascade of emails like vintage chainmail spam from 2002. ‘Not sure why this has been sent to me’ and ‘please remove me from this group’ from pissed-off punters rung across the digital cloisters of 0s and 1s, all while continuing to, ironically, Reply All. Eventually recipes for Berry Bliss Balls, memes and other nonsense came flooding in like the many heads of hydra: as soon as one was deleted, three more replies popped up in its wake. Eventually a vaguely disturbing silence fell across our inboxes as no more recipes for lemon scones or pictures of Boromir were shared with all. We began to wonder if this community we had built was lost forever.

To answer your initial question perhaps a nuanced, ‘everything in moderation’ is most suitable. A network wide chain of horror? Perhaps not. But, a catty remark aimed at embarrassing the hospital executives? Always.

‘I have a hot, single consultant. He knows he’s hot. The end.’

I am reminded of the popular song Fit But You Know It by English rapper Mike Skinner, in which he makes an unsuccessful romantic advance with a woman at a bar which he ultimately blames on her own self-knowing attractiveness. It is steeped with the usual perverse male logic, faulting the woman for her presentation when it was really his own hesitation and rumination that failed him.

I suspect your declaration of ‘the end’ in this question (?) really suggests anything but. Perhaps you, like Skinner, are projecting your own insecurities onto your consultant. I also worry about your inclusion of the fact he is single, laying bare your true intent - that is, to woo him with your comprehensive understanding of his specialty. I bet you’re reading the latest RCTs in his particular field of interest every night before kissing a love-heart framed picture of him then turning out the lights, you sicko. You probably love those interminable ward rounds with him, followed by the weak extra-hot canteen moccachino he buys you as recompense. You disgust me.

Fine. If you’re that desperate, that you simply must find love in the hospital, you have my blessing. But please, please, if he happens to be an anaesthetist, let him finish the case before having a cheeky root in the store room.

‘My patient keeps pulling on his airway tube.’

I am concerned by the fact I am only replying to this weeks after your message. Hope he’s doing OK?