Abstract

“Let's get one thing straight: there is no such thing as a show code,” my attending asserted, pausing for effect. “You either try to resuscitate, or you don't. None of this halfway junk.” He spoke so loudly that the two off-service consultants huddled at computers at the end of the unit looked up… We did four rounds of compressions and pushed epinephrine twice. It was not a long code. We did good, strong compressions and coded this man in earnest until the end. Toward the final round, though, as I stepped up to do compressions, my attending looked at me in a deep way. It was a look in between willing me as some object under his command and revealing to me everything that lay within his brash, confident surface but could not be spoken.