"Notification," the radio crackled. "thirty-three-year-old female, status epilepticus. Down at her doctor's office. No response to Valium times two. Three minutes out." The nurses sprang to work preparing the medication cart, IV bags, and blood-drawing kit.
Status epilepticus can spell disaster. Unrelenting electrical discharges from neurons force a patient's limbs to contract and release without pause. The facial muscles twitch and contort, as if pummeled by a hail of invisible darts. The face turns a deep, impossible blue. While routine epileptic fits end within minutes, status epilepticus, left untreated, can go on for hours, destroying muscles and making neurons sizzle.
The patient, flanked by two perspiring paramedics, rolled in. Her arms and legs jerked rhythmically. Everyone in the emergency room clustered around.Mike, the other attending doctor on duty in the ER, took a look.
"Bit odd, huh?" he offered.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
