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The Changed Nature of Scut: An Absence at the Bedside
It was a late night on call when my pager went off. I called the floor. The nurse informed me that my patient, Mr. McDonough, had a fever. I grumbled and trudged to the ward to do one of the numerous fever work-ups of my internship.
“Hi, Mr. McDonough, I hear you have a bit of a temperature,” I said as I entered the room. He looked at me, tried to smile, and agreed. He was sweating, and his blanket was tossed from his bed. I looked for a vein to draw blood and noted his clammy skin. His pulse was strong but rapid. He was breathing easily. I examined him more carefully and heard the rhonchi in his chest. He coughed some sputum into a cup for me, and I ordered a chest x-ray. I worried as I walked up to the house officers' lab to Gram stain the sputum and look at the urine. He just …
