I worked as a respiratory therapist what I would classify as a Level IV Trauma Center when I was doing temporary medical staffing. They were technically supposed to (and I repeat) SUPPOSED to have a doctor in house, but often times the ER doc (actually an FP doc) could found at the same hotel I was staying at, asleep unless there was a patient that "urgently" needed his attention. The docs would be there for shift change, then leave after an hour if there weren't any patients and go back to sleep. We would have to call them and tell to come in if something bad was coming in. Of course, if you ask the hospital there's a doctor on the premises 24-7. Yeah, right. :lol: Heck, I slept most of the nights I worked, all night, on the bed in the "trauma" room.
The nursing staff was made up almost entirely of 'travelers' (temporary staffing agency personnel like myself) so no one was real familiar with the hospital, the only RNs that worked technically directly for the hospital were the house supervisors and maybe a couple others out of the entire hospital.
On at least four occasions during the month I worked there (boy was I glad to get out of there) we had patients crash and/or code and we called the doc in and even after they arrived they just let me (as the RT) run things because they couldn't remember ACLS protocols, etc.
:blink: Same went for when we had a patient who needed to be intubated or vented- "Hey Dr. -------, what do you want for vent settings?" Response: "Why are you asking me? You're the RT, you tell me what they need."
One night one of the docs told the RN's before he left (and I quote) "If anything bad happens, listen to him until I get here" (points at me). Of course then we had a code come in (a drive up nonetheless) so I got to play ER doc- reminds me again why I want to become a dentist and not an MD- until the doc finally got back to the hospital about 30 minutes later. By this time, the patient had received at least 6 or 7 rounds of epi, was maxed out on lidocaine, had received amiodarone, had been defibrillated at least 5 times and was in an agonal rhythm- for which we gave two doses of atropine and were trying to pace. Doc walks in, looks at me, goes "How's he doing?" :blink: :unsure: "Great doc." I told him what we had done and that we had seen no improvement, so he goes, "Well then why are you still working on him? Why haven't you pronounced him?" Apparently he didn't realize that none of us could legally do that.