Brandon O
Puzzled by facies
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Hi guys. Thought you might enjoy a somewhat less whacky scenario; this one happened to me a few weeks back and am interested in opinions, since I just got a chance to follow up on the dx yesterday. Since it was a while ago, some of the details are sparse or fictional, but you should get the drift.
You're dispatched for a routine transfer from St. Whatever Dialysis back to Misty Greens rehab. Ms. Elderly Renal is one of your frequent fliers, but this is your first time taking her.
On arrival at St. Whatever, staff direct you to the patient's seat and indicate to you that she was recording a run of hypotensive BPs during her run of dialysis. You see them charted on the monitor, like this -- 100/61, 120/78, 96/59, 121/75, 91/61, fluctuating during the course of her treatment, but basically low. They further indicate that Ms. Renal has been very stuporous, barely responsive and communicating little if at all, just puddled in her seat for the majority of her treatment. Neither of these are typical for her, according to staff; "it's not the Ms. Renal I know," you're told.
The patient presents as an elderly black female slumped in her chair, wrapped in blankets. Her eyes are more or less open but she's clearly obtunded, her verbal responses varying from nothing at all to brief, grunted, coherent words. She obeys simple commands.
You notice immediately that the right side of her face seems to be noticeably drooping; asking her to smile, it is more pronounced. She is barely able to lift her arms in front of her, so although her right arm seems to lift less well it is difficult to tell. She squeezes your fingers with fair strength and you can't decide whether it's your imagination that has her right side weaker. You have her repeat a sentence after you (which in appropriate tradition is something like "why the hell is it always raining in Boston?"), and she gets it right but slurs it.
Radial pulses are equal, but very nearly impalpable; you manage to count one at around 100. The last BP from the computer automatic cuff is 91/61, but you're unable to obtain one manually. Respirations are 18 or so. Her hands are perceivably cold, up through her forearms. Pulse oximetry and BG chem are unavailable to you.
The paperwork available to you is just a master copy of your company's dialysis run sheet, which has a PMH including various uninteresting tidbits. You look in particular for history of CVA or baseline hemiparesis, and also for diabetes; you see neither, but these documents have a habit of not being especially exhaustive.
Having expressed its concerns and scribbled some things in Ms. Renal's dialysis book, staff pats you on the back and sends you back to Misty Greens. You load her up and are sitting in the back of your truck. Now what?
I'm particularly interested in what you guys would do, not when viewed through zebra-calibrated retrospectoscopes, but if you actually took this routine transfer tomorrow. This is one of the two major decision-making points so I'll unfold the rest of the story for you later.
You're dispatched for a routine transfer from St. Whatever Dialysis back to Misty Greens rehab. Ms. Elderly Renal is one of your frequent fliers, but this is your first time taking her.
On arrival at St. Whatever, staff direct you to the patient's seat and indicate to you that she was recording a run of hypotensive BPs during her run of dialysis. You see them charted on the monitor, like this -- 100/61, 120/78, 96/59, 121/75, 91/61, fluctuating during the course of her treatment, but basically low. They further indicate that Ms. Renal has been very stuporous, barely responsive and communicating little if at all, just puddled in her seat for the majority of her treatment. Neither of these are typical for her, according to staff; "it's not the Ms. Renal I know," you're told.
The patient presents as an elderly black female slumped in her chair, wrapped in blankets. Her eyes are more or less open but she's clearly obtunded, her verbal responses varying from nothing at all to brief, grunted, coherent words. She obeys simple commands.
You notice immediately that the right side of her face seems to be noticeably drooping; asking her to smile, it is more pronounced. She is barely able to lift her arms in front of her, so although her right arm seems to lift less well it is difficult to tell. She squeezes your fingers with fair strength and you can't decide whether it's your imagination that has her right side weaker. You have her repeat a sentence after you (which in appropriate tradition is something like "why the hell is it always raining in Boston?"), and she gets it right but slurs it.
Radial pulses are equal, but very nearly impalpable; you manage to count one at around 100. The last BP from the computer automatic cuff is 91/61, but you're unable to obtain one manually. Respirations are 18 or so. Her hands are perceivably cold, up through her forearms. Pulse oximetry and BG chem are unavailable to you.
The paperwork available to you is just a master copy of your company's dialysis run sheet, which has a PMH including various uninteresting tidbits. You look in particular for history of CVA or baseline hemiparesis, and also for diabetes; you see neither, but these documents have a habit of not being especially exhaustive.
Having expressed its concerns and scribbled some things in Ms. Renal's dialysis book, staff pats you on the back and sends you back to Misty Greens. You load her up and are sitting in the back of your truck. Now what?
I'm particularly interested in what you guys would do, not when viewed through zebra-calibrated retrospectoscopes, but if you actually took this routine transfer tomorrow. This is one of the two major decision-making points so I'll unfold the rest of the story for you later.