Pediatric shift

I'm less than two shifts away from finishing my residency and I thought it was necessary that I ask, nay DEMAND to go to pediatric surgery.

Little adults these small loud creatures are not (hah!).

The wide teary eyes staring back at me while I hold the oxygen mask over the face they belong to with an iron grip are always and I do mean always, wide with fear. Anesthetic induction in kids is definitely a lot more traumatic to them compared to the surgery. It's also a bit traumatic for the anesthesiologist, to be quite honest.

It all starts with some pampering and baby talk and devolves into the eventual "pin him down!" and "please keep the kid from kicking me in the face/scratching off any more of my skin!". I like to call it the "Raya and Sekeena method". The physical immobilization, the mask firmly held over their squirming faces and the terror of it all. Those poor kids.

It's for their own good though and if I have to be the mean guy they have nightmares about for the rest of their life (and there must a shit-ton of kids "dreaming" of my masked face right now), then so be it!

 

Source : http://www.kindernarkose.ch/cartoons.htm

No Regrets

He was undergoing a metatarsal amputation of the right foot, which means they were chopping off all his toes at the same time. They had already taken his left leg just below the knew. Diabetes tends to do that to you if you don't treat it with the respect and care it deserves.

We gave him spinal anesthesia, so he was awake but silent for most of the operation. I actually thought he was asleep until he suddenly said, " I don't have any toes anymore. Everyone has ten and now I have none. ". He said it with a calm smile on his face as he continued, " But I've had a full life. I've seen the world. Thanks be to God for everything".

I just sat there not knowing what to say. What can I say to that, anyway? It was sad and tragically poetic.

I hope I speak the same words in 40 years or so - minus the part about the toes, of course.

Here's Edith Piaf - Non, je ne regrette rien.

I'm a horrible person...

Sometimes I get angry. Get angry at patients, get angry at myself for doing so and eventually get angry at everybody else.
I get angry at patients because they can be so frustrating sometimes. It's horrible because they're so weak, vulnerable, horribly aware of their own vulnerability and where I work, they're often quite destitute. They also give you the vague impression that they're going to be back very soon because they just can't and/or won't take care of themselves. You know that diabetic will be back in less than 6 months to get another toe ( or maybe a whole foot) chopped off. You know that drug addict will be back in less than a month to get another part of him fixed after fighting with another drug addict.Then there are the relatives, who are a whole different ballgame.
So when it's 3 a.m. and patients won't cooperate because they're so terrified or they're insulting because they don't trust us since the only doctors available at 3 a.m. in government hospitals are the really young ones, I tend to lose my temper. I become impatient and I yell. I become pushy and downright harsh.
So when an initially terrified young woman woke up after a C-section and weakly kissed my arm to thank me before I even realized what she was trying to do, I felt like the worst person in the world. I don't deserve any gratitude because even though she might not be aware of how horrible I can be, I unfortunately am.

Didn't see all this coming...

I never started this blog with the intention of neglecting it but I can understand how it looks that way considering I haven't so much as looked in its direction in almost a year.
Anyway...I have my reasons..trust me.
The last time I wrote, I was talking about how difficult it was to get my papers done so that I can graduate and start my residency. Well, a few stacks of paper and many sleepless nights after that, I started my anesthesia and critical care residency.
The funniest thing I've realized about my chosen career after just a few months down its path, is that for someone who puts people to sleep everyday, I hardly get any sleep myself. Whoever thought up 36 hour shifts was obviously devising an extremely advanced way of slowly crushing the collective souls of residents everywhere. It's even harder when you have to sniff that lovely magical knock-out gas that accidentally leaks out of our decrepit machines and builds up in the OR everyday. No wonder coffee isn't cutting it anymore!
Then there are the dee-lightful staff members. I've said it once and I'll say it again; prospective university staff members need psychological evaluations before being released onto the rest of us. I can only smile, nod and say " yes ,sir/ma'am" while wanting to gauge my eye out with a blunt spoon for so long before cracking.
*Sigh*...more on that later..I need to go punch my fist through a wall or something...