Finished clinic and went back to the hospital to finish working on a patient whose hemoglobin is mysteriously dropping at the rate of 1 per day. Had just finished doing that when my pager went off. It was the OB floor. You have a patient here. Scheduled repeat section. She's ruptured. And I was up the stairs to the third floor, getting ready to do a C-section that was scheduled for Valentine's Day, and I walked in the room.
Dr. B! She was all smiles. We know each other by now; we've met so many times. And now here I was filling in details of her history for the nurses, changing into scrubs, calling to tell my Angel to hold dinner, no eat. I'll eat when I get home.

Six pounds, 14 ounces. He was beautiful.

There's something about your own patients, people you know, that you've taken care of. There's something about knowing that the woman handing her baby over to you for his first examination trusts you because of the relationship you've built. And there's something about discussing follow-up and first shots. It's something I can't explain.

I may be home at 9:30 PM from a grueling day, but it's a happy 9:30 PM.

now feeling:: accomplished