THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, August 6, 1995 TAG: 9508020058
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K3 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: MY JOB
SOURCE: BY PAM STARR, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 73 lines
ZINA ALEXANDER will never forget the first time she performed a complete obstretical ultrasound scan.
She was a student in the ultrasound technologist program Tidewater Community College and had to scan a patient under a teacher's eagle eyes. A little nervous, Alexander squirted conductor gel on the woman's abdomen and moved a transducer across the skin. Sound waves bounced off the fetal tissue, creating an image on a television-like screen in front of Alexander.
Only it wasn't the happy picture Alexander had expected. The image showed that the fetus' heart was not beating. It was dead. Alexander managed to make it through the procedure, but broke down afterward in the hallway.
``I was very, very upset,'' recalls Alexander, 34. ``When I left the room I cried like a baby. I couldn't help it - I'm a mother of two myself.''
As an ultrasound technologist (UT) at Sentara Bayside Hospital, Alexander is the consummate medical professional. Competent and caring, friendly yet detached. The wide range of feelings that Alexander experiences every day, from exhilaration to sorrow, makes it imperative that she keep an emotional distance. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to work.
``I scan with a poker face,'' Alexander says in her office. ``If I didn't, I'd cry. I've had patients promise to take me to lunch or dinner if I tell them what I see. But I'm not allowed - that's for the radiologist.
``Nine times out of 10 the patient knows something is wrong, though, before they even come to me,'' she adds. ``And every now and then the tears come and you think, `God, I hate my job today.' ''
Thankfully, that doesn't happen often. Although female pelvises constitute nearly half of what she scans, Alexander also sees patients who have cysts or tumors in other parts of the body, or diseased organs. Ultrasound uses sound waves instead of X-rays to allow viewing of the internal organs and tissues. Alexander says that a diseased liver, for example, will show up as very bright on the screen. If the doctor wants a biopsy, Alexander will mark it with the machine first.
``You have to know all the organs, the obvious and not so obvious pathologies (nature of diseases),'' says Alexander, who lives in the Strawbridge section of Virginia Beach with husband Marcus and two sons. ``You always have your books, but a lot you keep in your head.''
Ultrasound technology is a changing field, something that Alexander enjoys about her job. The former X-ray technician is required to take additional courses every year because ultrasound use is becoming more common and machines are continually upgraded. The machine she scans with now, which uses Doppler radar, costs about $250,000. But that doesn't make her nervous.
``It's like a little baby - if you take care of it, it'll be good to you,'' she says. Alexander graduated from TCC's accredited ultrasound technologist program in 1992.
Her favorite scans are of healthy fetuses. When a fetus pops up on the screen, Alexander takes its measurements, determines the location of the placenta and examines the brain and organs. Most of the time, if the fetus is old enough, Alexander can tell if it's a boy or a girl.
At Sentara Bayside, Alexander works 12-hour shifts three days a week and is on call from 5:30 p.m. to 7:30 a.m. On average, she sees between eight and 16 patients a day and has to allow for emergencies and walk-ins.
Although Alexander greatly enjoys ultrasound work, ultimately she would like to go back to school and earn a bachelor of science in pharmacology. Her goal is to become a pharmacist before she reaches 40.
``I keep thinking I'm too old to go back to school,'' she says with a grin. ``But if I don't do it, I'll regret it.'' ILLUSTRATION: Photo
D. KEVIN ELLIOTT/Staff
Ultrasound technician Zina Alexander performs a scan on an expectant
mother.
by CNB