The failed VAC Chronicles

"I want to apply the VAC dressing today" I bellowed to my colleague across the corridor of the ward, as she gently wheeled in the patient to the dressing room. She looked sceptical but was always supportive of me and my stupidity. She managed to muster a smile through her tired face "sure, why not?". Her apprehension stemmed from my previous failed attempt at the Vacuum-Assisted Closure dressing; VAC as we lovingly referred to it. Each dressing counted in ways one couldn't imagine- to the patient and to the hospital. However, this was part of a large trial to find a new device. This was ground-breaking, earth-shattering research we were part of, or so it felt! My Colleague and I were bestowed with the responsibility to complete the project efficiently and promptly. Our predecessors had left a lot of work, so we had to make up for the lost time. The clock was ticking on this project, and I was making it worse by delaying it with my over-enthusiasm. It had been 36 hours of grinding work in the hospital for us, and we still had paperwork to fill and dressings to finish. My colleague dragged her feet into the dressing room, slumped on a chair, waiting for me to position the patient. The juniors were running helter-skelter at this point, so we took it on ourselves to finish up work quickly. I heard my stomach grumble, as a readied the patient's foot for the dressing. Applying a VAC takes skill, not one that I possessed. My hands shivered as I began to position the sponge, not out of fatigue, but out of the fear of failure. It was then I decided, in the best of the patient, to give up! I began to furiously remove my sterile gloves, as a tear rolled down my cheek. My partner in crime jolted up from her seat and embraced me. "Who am I kidding, I cannot do this, not now, not ever" I sniffled, struggling to hold back my tears. My confidante just smiles at me through her tired eyes. You see, my partner and I were not always this friendly in the past and have had our fair share of tiffs. At that moment, the past was forgotten, as she began to console me. "You can do this; you just have to try! You are the best" she said softly, as she wiped the tears off my blushed cheeks. "How about we do this together, and then I buy you a double scoop of Belgian Dark Chocolate ice cream?". I smiled, as she knew what my guilty pleasure was. Her encouragement was the boost my dreary soul needed, as I wore a fresh pair of gloves. With a firm yet loving hand, she guided me through each step. Every time fear crept into my mind, I would look at her, and my faith would be restored. Slowly, I was able to apply the dressing with a tight seal. As much skill as it takes to apply the dressing, the truth of the test was whether it would retain the vacuum. In the past, I had failed miserably at this step, and my heart began to race at that frightful thought. It was the moment of truth, as we connected the tubings to the machine. With bated breath we waited for the "swoosh" sound the dressing would make, as the air was sucked out of the foam, creating a vacuum within it. I kept waiting, and waiting, and waiting. The sound never came, and yet again I had failed. The disappointed in my heart grew exponentially, as I sat down next to the bed. I felt responsible for bothering the patient, my colleague and wasting precious material reserved for the completion of the project. I felt dejected as my face grew pale at the sight of the warning signal in the machine. My friend never gave up; she began to inspect the dressing and the machine. She suddenly steps back, and I heard "swoosh". I could not believe my eyes-the dressing was working! It turns out, I had not connected the tubes tightly enough to create a seal. How foolish of me! I just sat there and stared, as my VAC finally worked! I felt a sudden rush of energy as I rejoiced "it worked!". The patient was amused at me, at my child-like excitement, and congratulated me. As we shifted him back to the ward, I ran to my other friends and told them about my success story. I had finally done it! After the patient was comfortably back in his place, we did a cursory glance at the machine and walked away satisfied that we had done a good job. Without a warning, I hugged my friend, without whom I could not have achieved this Herculean task today. " It was inside you all along, you just had to stay strong and follow through baby," she said as I let go. She was right, it was in me all along. The fear of failure crippled me so much, that it began to affect the process. No one in this world is perfect or so grandly skilled. All of us struggle with something at some point in our lives, personally or professionally. However, the support of my colleague helped me overcome this fear of failure. I was no longer a failure at VAC. I felt proud of us, for bringing the project one step closer to completion. With this achievement, as small and trivial as it may seem to the outside world, it helped boost my confidence. No longer was I afraid to do this alone, afraid of making a mistake and failing. As we sat down at the ice cream parlour, and I dug into my ice cream, I thanked my colleague. " I could not have ever overcome my fear if it weren't for you," I said as she raised her eyes from her sundae. She flung a crackle at me, and this started a food fight between us. We laughed the night away and forgetting that I was a failure. Today was the end of my failed VAC chronicles.