Last night, I dreamed that I was following my senior brother on rounds when suddenly the patient’s breathing worsened. The senior immediately started resuscitation, and I was responsible for squeezing the resuscitation bag and continuously recording pulse oximetry, blood pressure, and other vital signs. Later, for some unknown reason, the senior left, leaving only me and a few junior brothers and sisters present.
When it came to me, the pulse oximeter readings dropped rapidly. I was completely baffled because I didn’t know the patient’s medical history—only that the situation was very critical. Among those present, I was the most experienced (meaning one grade higher than the juniors 
).
At that moment, I didn’t know why I didn’t call the supervisors or nurses; I just directly instructed them. I taught one how to squeeze the resuscitation bag (the key was to do it slowly), asked another to fetch the medical record, and I myself listened to the patient’s breath sounds. There were widespread moist rales and small bubbles—I suspected a large amount of secretions was blocking the airway.
When the medical record finally arrived, I saw that the patient had COPD. At this point, the senior brother surprisingly returned. Combining the current breathing difficulty, blood oxygen, and auscultation findings, we decided to give the patient a dose of steroids (upon waking: it should have been methylprednisolone, so why was adrenaline used?), and we were preparing for endotracheal intubation and suctioning. My mind quickly ran through the steps for intubation since I had only previously inserted tubes on models, worrying about what if I didn’t do it well.
In the middle of this, a large group of classmates arrived to observe rounds, filling the ward and noisily chatting; I shouted at them to get them out (upon waking: I remembered being shouted at like that during emergency rotations when observing resuscitations).
In the end, before the steroids were given or intubation was performed, under the encouragement of the family and another classmate patting the back, the patient coughed up a few large thick sputum plugs. The condition improved, and after observing for a while, the blood oxygen gradually went back up.
Afterward, I reflected in the dream on this rescue: why didn’t I call the supervisors or nurses! Why didn’t I call the supervisors or nurses! Why didn’t I call the supervisors or nurses!
But after waking up, I thought maybe I’m gradually starting to feel that I can handle things on my own.