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Twenty days to go... - Nobody wears a white coat any more...
...a tribute to becoming a doctor.
ayradyss
ayradyss
Twenty days to go...
Today, O Best Beloved, I began my trial by fire. These next three weeks (only 3 weeks) will be the last Surgery rotation of my year, perhaps of my medical school career. And I'm not sorry in the slightest.
Trauma surgery at one of the city's most interesting trauma centers - the same indigent hospital where I did my Peds rotation. And, as per my luck, no trauma happened. We rounded, went to M&M and Grand Rounds (during which I slept), finished rounding, and wrote notes. I made friends with Joerg, the 4th-year on the service, who showed me how to find a locker (and the OR) and has generally been very helpful. Without Joerg, I would be dead. He's from Heidelberg, in Germany, and wanted to know where
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Today, O Best Beloved, I began my trial by fire. These next three weeks (only 3 weeks) will be the last Surgery rotation of my year, perhaps of my medical school career. And I'm not sorry in the slightest.
Trauma surgery at one of the city's most interesting trauma centers - the same indigent hospital where I did my Peds rotation. And, as per my luck, no trauma happened. We rounded, went to M&M and Grand Rounds (during which I slept), finished rounding, and wrote notes. I made friends with Joerg, the 4th-year on the service, who showed me how to find a locker (and the OR) and has generally been very helpful. Without Joerg, I would be dead. He's from Heidelberg, in Germany, and wanted to know where <ljuser="loonyatcbh"> was at., because it was a good topic. And I couldn't remember.
Joerg and I went to lunch, and then all the fun happened. I went to find an intern after all my notes were written. I found one who was on the phone regarding our patient in detention. My patient, most unhappily for me. He'd pulled his chest tube out once again - this makes four times - and now the X-ray said pneumothorax. Which meant another Chest tube. His fifth. The man was convinced that if he pulled out his chest tube, he would be able - allowed, even, to go home to the prison. Despite his 104-degree fevers. So we gave him morphine and Atavan and we put the chest tube back in. Well, they did. I hooked up the vacuum pump.
Then up to chat politics with Joerg over a Coke, and talk about how much it sucks that we have to take the CSA next year.
Going to meet at 3 for a PEG/trach, I was told, and at 3 we were at the bedside. They sent me to get a bite block. I got it, after going to the OR and then to the basement, only to find that they'd found another before I got back. Watched. I love this hospital; we had the most dysfunctional endoscope I've ever seen. No, really, Best Beloved. The picture was attempting to climb off the top of the screen, nobody could figure out the suction for 20 minutes, and to get the air to flow Joerg had to hold his finger over the connection of the scope.
I left before we did the trach - I had to go to Opthalmology lecture at four, which is where you find me now, half-paying attention to a talk on opthalmologic trauma and half trying to stay awake...

Which, of course, was when he ended. Posting now. Remind me later to tell you about the Prophet of the Second Coming...

now feeling:: tired tired

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