An Anaesthetic Nightmare
Anaesthesia News, No. 156, July 2000.
Aidan M. O’Donnell.
Once upon a midnight dreary, as I pondered weak and weary,
On-call gassing, hours passing, since induction long before.
As I nodded, nearly sleeping, suddenly there came a bleeping,
Down the capnograph was creeping and the screen no witness bore,
To the patient’s respiration. Why this unforeseen cessation?
Why now this, and nothing more?
What a dreadful situation: late night plastics operation,
ODA away for coffee, registrar emitting snores,
Sadly no consultant cover, terrifying to discover,
I alone must thwart this menace, solve the problem and restore,
All the patient’s ventilation, pulmonary insufflation,
Only this, and nothing more.
Though I really blamed the surgeon, in my mind began to burgeon,
Differential diagnoses: had I seen this thing before?
Ran around with actions manic, fought the rising tide of panic,
Checked machine for disconnections, scattered papers to the floor:
Study notes for MCQ, last week’s bloods from ITU,
There to languish evermore.
Suddenly, amid despair, thoughts of “sniff the morning air!”
Casting wide the verdant drapes I yanked upon the patient’s jaw,
Then at last the bag was moving, respiration was improving,
Even monitor approving: watched the trace with mounting awe.
With the soothing oscillations, all my prior palpitations,
Began to settle as before.
Then there came the final suture, promising a happy future,
Off to bed for welcome snoozing, now unable to ignore,
Fatigue from all the anaesthesia, soon to sink into amnesia,
But the surgeon wasn’t finished: raised his eyes to plead, implore
“Only just a few more cases? On tomorrow’s list no places!”
Quoth the gasman: “Nevermore!”
with apologies to Edgar Allen Poe.
Copyright © Aidan O’Donnell 2000.
This article first appeared in Anaesthesia News, July 2000.
Unauthorised reproduction prohibited.
Aidan O'Donnell 
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