Neuro Bedside Emergencies

Source: ICU FAQ.org

1: What if my patient becomes unresponsive?
2: Has a change in mental status?
3: What if I have a change in mental status?
4: Climbs out of bed?
5: Climbs out of bed naked and runs around the unit?
6: What is APS?
7: What if my patient starts refusing treatment in an emergency?
8: What if my patient seizes?
9: Repeatedly?
10: Does repeated seizure activity really injure the brain?
11: What is a blown pupil?
12: What if they’re both blown?
13: What if my pupils are blown?
14: Acute CVA?
15: Sudden rising ICP?

Neuro:

1. What if my patient becomes unresponsive?

Even though there may not be one apparent, things happen to patients for a reason. It’s usually a matter of figuring out the context – this can be hard for a newbie who’s still trying to figure out which way to turn the stopcock on an a-line. The thing to try to focus on however is pretty simple - keep in mind the basic question: "What’s wrong with my patient?" This sounds stupid but actually isn’t, since the poor newbie is still struggling to remember how to read the CVP – and it’s definitely a fact that equipment of any kind has a genuine hatred for new staff. I remember flushing a toilet once in a patient bathroom during my first week at a job, and watching horrified as the plumbing came apart, off the wall, in front of my eyes, convinced I’d somehow flushed it wrong…

The goal for the new ICU nurse (for any ICU nurse) is to try to figure out what the patient is doing – but when your patient does something unexpected, there is just no substitute for experience. So go get some: go get the resource nurse, and go get the team. This points up the most basic principle of ICU nursing: it is a group process. Tattoo that backwards on your forehead so you can read it in the mirror. Several heads are always better than one. Don’t get isolated in your room.

Anyhow. Patients can become unresponsive for lots of reasons – your clues will probably lie in the reasons why they were admitted in the first place. There’s a neat maneuver that they do in the ER when a patient comes in unresponsive: they give a quick cocktail of meds that might reverse whatever is causing the problem: an amp of D50 for low sugar, an amp of narcan to reverse opiate OD, a dose of thiamine for (is it the Wernicke’s alcoholic thing?) – there might be some others. What’s a banana bag?

Unless the situation is really emergent (brand new seizures in a patient with a broken foot), you usually have some sort of diagnostic context to help you puzzle things out – is there an underlying neuro problem? Is their blood sugar too low? Blood pressure low? - have they flipped into some unpleasant cardiac rhythm? Rather than trying to think of every possible cause, my point is that you will almost always have something to go on.

2: Has a change in mental status?

This is so common in the unit (and I’m not just talking about the patients), and can have so many causes. All sorts of meds will do this for example, and often you’ll discover that the Ativan you’ve been giving at bedtime makes Mr.Yakowitz confused, every time, but that he does fine with benadryl to help him sleep. Or the other way around. What’s the patient’s ammonia? Is his calcium really high? Is he "sundowning", or "sun-upping"? Is it "ICU psychosis"? Lots of things to think about – try to think about reasons having to do with his admitting diagnosis.

3: What if I have a change in mental status?

Otherwise known as “Alteration in Reality, Potential vs. Actual”. I’ve been a night nurse for 20 years – I know about this one. Lots of reasons for your own mentation to change: not enough sleep, not enough caffeine, too much caffeine, low blood sugar…one time I had to do the "dad thing" to a young woman who insisted, as she was sliding down towards the floor, that she was just fine, she needed to go turn her patient right now… I had to speak to her firmly, stuck her in a chair, and someone got her some orange juice. How is it that some people "forget to eat"? Not to be antifeminist or anything, but this really is totally a chick thing. Guys never "forget to eat" – forget to eat? I carry power bars in my bag to eat standing, a bite at a time along with some Gatorade if I can’t get out to the back room. What good are you to your patient if you’ve fainted on the floor?

The point is: this really is one of the hardest jobs there is. Not kidding. Nurses have such an ingrained sense of how little they matter that they have trouble perceiving their own value, much less the real impact of the anxieties and burdens that come with working in the ICU. Take care of yourself – you really took on the big one when you came to the MICU. You’re in the majors now.

One more thought: is there another profession that sees death so often? In this job we may spend 25 years treating patients who are trying to die…give yourself credit, and wear the invisible golden badge (the one only your co-workers can see) with pride.

4: Climbs out of bed?

Happens all the time. Your responsibilities are simple: keep your patients safe. If your patient is competent, oriented, can get up and wants to, then you should help her. (If she’s still intubated that might be a problem.) Keep the bed in low position. Know the hospital’s restraint policies. Read more on this topic in "The House of God", by Samuel Shem. Kind of a dirty book, but hilarious. Not very accurate on nurses, though.

5: Climbs out of bed naked, and runs around the unit?

Well, this one does actually happen once in a while. He’s still your patient though, isn’t he? Call security, call the team, try to keep him safe until you can get him back into the bed. Something that came up recently in the "Med Tips" article might be useful to keep in mind – a patient who’s pulled out all his IV lines can still be given safe sedation by nebulizing a dose of, say, 5 mg of morphine through a neb mask. Surprising but true – a year or so ago we had a similar situation, and the attending pulled that idea out like a rabbit out of a hat. Worked really well.

6: What is the APS?

This stands for the Acute Psych Service – this is an in-house resident psychiatry service available for emergency consults 24/7. Good to know.

7: What if my patient starts refusing treatment in an emergency?

Obviously this depends on the situation. An elderly patient with a terminal illness may be completely rational (and I believe in the right) if she decides to refuse being intubated for the fourteenth time.

A patient we had some months ago demonstrated a different scenario: a man in his fifties, I think with some degree of COPD at baseline, but with a clearly treatable pneumonia that was pushing him over the edge towards the snorkel. He began to refuse everything – nebs, meds, and began climbing out of the bed to go home. This is the kind of situation that legally requires a stat assessment of competency – we called the APS.

8: What if my patient seizes?

For the first time ever? For the third time in an hour? Intubated? Not? The basics are clear – get help, get the team, treat acutely with things like benzos (we usually use Ativan for acute seizures), try to keep the patient’s airway clear and prevent aspiration. If he’s intubated, try to get a bite block in place – we’ve seen patients bite through the pilot line, deflating the ETT cuff. Also, biting the tube closed is not usually a healthy thing – I’ve seen agitated patients arrest doing this once or twice over the years. The jaws are very strong. Put seizure padding on the bed rails, and check their dilantin level. Or valproate, or whatever.

9: Repeatedly?

Hopefully you’ve got the neuro service on hand (or their assessment and treatment plan). Is this a sudden change, increasing in frequency? Time for more benzos, more dilantin? Phenobarb? Time for neuro to come back and have another look? Time for another (don’t say it!) CT scan? Ack!

10: Does repeated seizure activity really injure the brain?

I ran this one past Jayne, and her opinion is that it’s the hypoxia that goes along with repeated seizures (if the patient isn’t intubated) that causes the damage. We got a patient in last week who’d been in “status epilepticus” for 90 minutes without being intubated – she woke up and wanted to know what all the fuss was about. (How did she breathe that whole time?)

11: What is a "blown pupil"?

This refers to a pupil that’s suddenly gone big, independently of the other one. This usually something acutely bad is happening on one side (the opposite side?) of the head. Jayne: is this because rising ICP compresses the area that holds one of the optic nerves? Pretty clear that I’m no neuro nurse.

12: What if they’re both blown?

Make sure it’s not just dark in the room. Has the patient’s level of consciousness has changed? Everybody knows about "fixed and dilated" pupils – this is a true BBIT (big bad ICU thing), indicating a prolonged hypoxic injury to the brain.

A couple of exceptions: sometimes a patient will have a dilated eye exam done by opthalmology, and they may not remember to tell you that your patient’s pupils are going to be sort of massively enlarged for a while. The other thing is that a patient who is post-code may have dilated pupils from atropine, rather than hypoxia – these should go back to normal after several hours.

13: What if my pupils are blown?

Don’t forget to bring sunglasses after your eye exam. Otherwise, is the room candle-lit? You know what to do.

14: Acute CVA?

The single enlarged pupil may be your major clue if you have a patient who is otherwise sedated or chemically paralyzed. The critical piece of the puzzle is: is this an embolic or a hemorrhagic event? Quick trip to the CT scanner.

We had a really nice example of "brain attack" treatment a few weeks ago. Gentleman about 80 years old came into the ER, suddenly unable to move his left side, unable to speak, previously completely functional. Apparently the window for assessment and treatment is really short for this kind of event – two hours? – Jayne says it’s three hours for an embolic stroke, as against the 4-6 hours that an MI patient has to get into the ER for lytic treatment. Anyhow, I guess the window was still open, and the man flew right through it, got his lysis, and by the time he was finishing up the dose, back in CT scan, he was able to speak and move freely. By the time he got to us, and when I was doing my resourcely nurse duties running around checking things out, he looked up at me.

"How are you doing, sir?" says I.

"I’m just fine, sir." says he, "How are you?" (Yeah, they call me “sir” now. Getting grey around the edges. Okay, more than just the edges.)

I guess I looked a little funny with this enormous goofy grin on my weary old-gome-nurse face, as I stood there in the doorway – he looked as if he was a little worried about me. “Saves” like that are so incredibly gratifying – we rescued this guy from being paralyzed and speechless, hopefully for the rest of his life. So cool.

15: Sudden rising ICP?

What year is it?

Not too long ago, a patient couldn’t tell me who the President was, but he looked pretty much with it, so I asked: "Well then, who’s Monica Lewinsky?" That got an enormous grin – I think he was pretty well oriented.

Everybody remembers the triad (is it "Cushing’s" triad?) of symptoms: falling heart rate, depressed respiratory rate, and widening pulse pressure: systolic heads north, diastolic heads south. The "critical element" however, as they say, is much easier than that: mentation goes first. A patient who was previously arousable and oriented will abruptly become too "sleepy" to respond to questions. Intra-cranial bolts are nice I’m sure, and once or twice a year we get them, but the first real clue to rising ICP is the patient’s decreased level of consciousness. (Whenever we get a bolt I always ask the neuro ICU nurses to come down and tell me if it’s working right. Anything that I only see once a year makes me nervous.)

These changes can be really abrupt - here’s a story by way of example: years ago, I think during the Crimean War, I was working in a medical CCU and, being the owner of the only open ICU bed in the hospital, I was sent the gift of a fresh post-op craniotomy patient for recovery. As my grandpa would say: "This, I know from nothing!" But, a nurse is a nurse is a nurse, right? Anyhow, I got explicit instructions on postop assessment from the neurosurgeons, and I just documented the crap out of that entire situation – the patient’s answers to questions, strengths of extremities, pupil exams, tongue stuck out at midline (didn’t Mark Green get into trouble with his tongue that way?), severity of postop pain – I’m sure there were others which now, 700 years later I don’t remember. Anyhow, I sent the patient to the floor after the prescribed number of hours postop with a sheaf of documentation, after a surgical postop check to clear the transfer.

I got a call about 20 minutes later – had the patient been unconscious when he left the CCU? No way, I told them – check the assessment sheets. Between the unit and the floor, the patient had become suddenly unresponsive. Zapped to CT scan – she’d re-bled. Unbelievable. Be very careful!

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