Yeah, sure, by all means. Go scrub up. Scrub? He said scrub!
It's one thing, O Best Beloved, to watch a procedure from the sidelines. It's another to scrub. And scrubbing is always, always better. Unless you want to be able to leave. Or sit down. But when you know you need time in the OR in order to get good reviews at surgery review time, you want to scrub. And I'm deathly afraid that they'll all notice I never scrub in on the big long procedures, mostly because everyone else is excited about scrubbing in and I'm not. So when the chance to see the lap chole came up I was all about scrubbing in.
And it was a neat operation, with K and Dr. R doing all the work, and me holding the camera now and then. A lap chole, if you didn't know, is short for "laparoscopic cholecystectomy", which means they take your gall bladder out through your belly button. It's a nice piece of work. No pimping, but in true Dr. R style he came to me after the operation. "Suppose we made a mistake. Suppose we clipped the common bile duct instead of the cystic duct. What would you expect to see?" Right on, baby. I stuttered for a few minutes, thinking he must mean something harder than what I was thinking, which turned out to be exactly what he was looking for. Conjugated hyperbilirubinemia, jaundice, acholic stools, and dark urine. Bingo. Every now and then I get something right.
Furthermore, not only was I asked to close up the skin on two of the lap wounds, he told me what he wanted me to do, watched me do it, and he and K both sounded Genuinely Impressed at the stitches I did. Now, knot tying...This was the first non-instrument tie I ever tried on a real person, and while my efforts were passable they were not sterling. Tonight, I think I will practise knot-tying a bit, as I understood it quite well once.
Left surgery feeling good already. Dr. R tends to have that effect on me. Paged Andy. No answer, which meant that he was in cardio surgery still and I was to go to his case as well.
Nancy is four, a little girl adopted from china with an imperforate anus. Second girl I've told a story like this about. This time, she's already been repaired and we're going to take her colostomy down so she can look - and poop - like a normal little girl.
Surgery went fine - I got to cut sutures, suction and watch K freak out about how she didn't think it was a perfect enough anastamosis. It's really an interesting way to do it, O Best Beloved. Think about the problem at hand: How do you sew two hollow tubes together so that (a) they don't leak, (b) they stay sewn together, and (c) they don't obstruct the passage of things through them? The answer? Later, after rounds.