Glove Monsters

There are services that carry teddy bears or other friendly objects with which to palliate their pediatric patients. I think this is a neat idea, but due to cost and infection-control issues, it’s not exactly a universal piece of equipment, so the rest of us have to make do with what we’ve got.

I started handing out glove balloon creatures a year or two back. They’re not for infants or the very young, but okay for anyone who can be trusted not to choke on a rubber glove, and I’ve always had a good response. You can make it in front of them while they watch curiously, then present it with a flourish. Click below for an ultra-high-production-value tutorial video featuring yours truly.

I always name my glove animals, and for some reason mine always end up with Hispanic names. Maybe I’m a glove racist.

One possibly surprising category of patients who may appreciate these is the older (stable, obviously) psych patient. I’ve made several of these for teenaged girls during transfers to inpatient psychiatric care for suicidal ideation, and although it didn’t cure what ailed them, it seemed to help. Thom Dick writes about telling suicidal patients, “Please don’t die.” In the same vein, a small gesture like a balloon — something they can carry with them, even if only for a while — seems to help show them that there are people in the world who do care about what happens to them. One girl, who was otherwise quiet and withdrawn, clutched hers (“Juarez,” as I recall) tightly to her chest and stridently refused to let it be taken it from her, even as she had to surrender her clothing, belt, and shoelaces. BLS care? I think so.

Cheat Sheets

Now and then you see someone with one of those little spiral-bound EMS “pocket guides.” They make sense for paramedics, who have drug dosages and other information-dense (and in some cases, rarely used) protocols that need remembering; but they always seemed a little silly for the EMT-B, who mostly needs to remember not to drop anyone.

There are a handful of things that would be useful to me in a reference, however, and therein lies the rub: preprinted field guides invariably consist 75% of what you already know and are missing 50% of what you actually need. For instance, when I moved two years ago, one of my main concerns was learning the different points-of-entry in the Boston metro area (trauma, STEMI, etc.), a service area which runneth over with so much healthcare that even your hairdresser might be an RN. But I’m not going to find that information in any book I can find on a shelf.

The answer? Homemade references! I made my own cheatsheet by laying out what I needed on the computer (I used Adobe InDesign, but a word processor would work), printing it in foldable handbook size, and gluing and stapling it together into a booklet. This fits unnoticeably in my back pocket and goes everywhere with me during my shift, and it works great — it’s full of exactly what I need and nothing else. My original one has been falling to pieces, so I just recently revised it and made up a new one. I’ve considered laminating it, but I don’t want to make it any thicker, and that would make it difficult to write on for any revisions.

I recommend making your own cheat sheet if you get a chance. You can check out mine here; here’s a couple sample pages as an example.

And the final product: