Know Your Role!

I never thought that I'd be quoting Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson in the category of "Critical Life Lessons," but it seems that I have.

A little lesson: Chief Resident, Sr. Residents, Jr. Residents, Interns, then Sub-Interns (3rd year med students get a protective bubble).

That's me, Wayne, the one at the bottom of the totem pole. Our chiefs already told us that "the s**t rolls downhill," at the intern (and sub-intern) meeting on Friday. Remember where I am again?

So, already I have been accused of calling an attending by his first name (come on now... I call administrative assistants by their last name out of respect), and one of the jr/sr residents treats me like a five yr old... In any other context, I would have told these people about themselves and their mothers....
bUt I'm the sub-i, so I can't say "boo" and that, well that truly sucks....

Life, I suppose, or something like that.

If I learn nothing else from this rotation, it will be humility, patience, and sleep-deprivation.

Time continue the pain... Off I go to sleep, only to awaken in a few short hours.

Day 2... or "My argument for a caffeine drip, a foley, and mandatory nap-time"

Day 2. The fear is gone, only replaced by anxiety... How do I "act like an intern?"
How do I "See as many cases as possible" and take care of my patients? How many patients am I responsible for? Should I be responsible for?

My closest friend since childhood, and one of the few people that knows me better than I know me, called me a few nights ago... He reminded me that everything would be ok, and that I needed to be my usual, driven self. He was right. I went in, picked up my patients and presented them. My chief resident didn't kill me on day one, and I made it through the day unscathed...

Well, almost. I kind of tripped and fell during rounds... Fortunately on the 3rd year med student saw it (well her, and the medicine team). I'm all right. The only thing that I bruised was my ego.

I have some excellent residents that I work with, and the attendings are helpful.

I like where I am, but I have to tell you, this hospital is a mess when it comes to the layout. Hallways are clearly not designed by anyone who knows a thing about patient care and transport (I am YET to see a hospital where they had the good sense to have rounded corners). It is only a matter of time before I lose some vital appendage in "an unfortunate transport accident" and Star in the next Austin Powers film.... And random hallways going to random places. A wrong turn, and you suddenly find yourself in a much older part of the OR suite, and you retrace your steps, trying to make it look like you knew what you were doing all along... (right!)

Progress, or something like it.
Another day, another opportunity to be "educated"

Once more unto the breach, dear friends...

It is Sunday, 4:06 am. In 24 hours, I will likely be IN the hospital at this time.

So much to do.

Walking rounds at 5:45 am. (That means the my notes have to be DONE before then... before the intern's notes, as I've been told)

I am a sub-intern... an acting intern, if you will.
A medical student auditioning for surgery.

And I am terrified.

I go to Office Depot, and Staples, and Stop and Shop, hunting for supplies as if a storm is brewing.

At least, that's what my roommate said when he saw everything neatly laid out in the pantry.

In many ways, a storm is brewing.

Hurricane Surgery.

I outfit my white coat with equipment as if it's a flak jacket. I have my color-coded index cards (soon-to-be-punched), the mini color-coded index cards for meds, the binder rings for the index cards, the little book where I will keep my running tally of cases, my portable hand sanitizer, attached to an ID holder. I have my colorful scrub hat, and its backup (yes, I have a backup scrub hat). I have TED stockings, since rumor has it that they work for leg pain or something. I've checked out Sabiston's Textbook of Surgery (the book is massive, by the way) from the library, and have a discounted copy on the way.

I should sleep, but I can't.

Already informed the parents that they won't be seeing much of me for the month.

I'm trying to remind myself that I won't be seeing much of the sun for the month either.

I have this simple mission.... shine for the next 28 days... Just six words (or five, depending on how one views '28')

I suppose that I can't complain. After all, this is thing thing that I've been dying to do for years.

Let's see how it goes....

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.....