I just had a realization.
I haven't written anything on this blog in almost 2 months. Where did the time go? How is it possible that time moves so slowly in my life but so quickly on this blog? Why have I had such writer's block lately? I can't answer these questions but I promise to be better about it. This blog has been a major stress outlet for me over the course of this deployment. I've felt very agitated lately and I think it has to do with my lack of writing. Deployment weighs heavily on my shoulders every minute of the day and this feeling of dread won't go away until he's home. It's incredibly difficult for me to separate these emotions out of the workplace and I think that sometimes my mood can carry over. Writing on this blog helps me to release some of these emotions. So.......I'm back.
What have I been doing over the last two months? Well, there's a very simple answer to that question.
I've been sticking my hand in many, many vaginas.
Yes, you read that right.
I spent a month working on the labor and delivery floor. I can now say that my hands were the first to touch the heads of 38 new human beings (or little goats as I like to call them). I was so happy to end the month but it is pretty cool to think about that little fact.
The actual act of delivering babies is fun and it's usually not even that hard. Not dropping them on the floor is the most difficult part. They are slippery little buggers!
Now I'm back in the Emergency Department and it feels good to be home.
Stay tuned for the regular return of Dr. Army Wife's blog!
Showing posts with label Medicine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Medicine. Show all posts
Monday, October 17, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The Evolution of a 12 hour Emergency Visit
You've either experienced it yourself or you've heard about it from other people. It's a common complaint and one that hospital administrators, medical workers, and government officials are always trying to solve. I'm talking about the lengthy emergency department visits.
I frequently hear friends or family complain about waiting seven, eight, nine, ten hours in the emergency department for their medical care. Honestly, I feel for you. I really do. I know it can be frustrating and boring and can seem completely unnecessary to have to sit on a stretcher in a hallway for hours upon hours.
I want to shed a little light on why this happens and hopefully change a few viewpoints out there.
First and foremost, the emergency department is primarily for emergencies. The main focus is to resuscitate and stabilize people who are very sick and who may not survive without intervention. That's not to say that back pain, sprained ankles, vomiting, urinary tract infections, sore throats, flu-like symptoms, or lacerations don't have a place in the emergency department. Sometimes people don't have primary care physicians, cannot get an appointment with their doctor, or feel so lousy that they want some help in the middle of the night. I understand. Most emergency doctors and nurses are in the field because they like seeing "any patient, any time, with any problem." We don't mind treating more minor complaints.
There's just one very important caveat: Sick people get seen first. Always.
This means that you may watch 20 people come through the doors and get taken back from the waiting room while you continue to sit in your chair. This is because someone qualified and trained in medical triage decided that all those people were more sick than you. Every effort is made to see people in a quick and timely fashion, but in reality there are just too many patients. Sometimes it can take 4 hours before there is no one who is sicker than you are and then it's finally your turn.
This also means that once you are in a room or on a stretcher in the hallway, it may take some time before you are evaluated by a physician. Emergency medicine is all about prioritizing so sometimes the doctor must let someone wait so that they can tend to a critical patient. Your physician may be spending that hour resuscitating a child who has stopped breathing. The hour you wait is an hour that someone else is fighting for their life.
Next comes tests. Perhaps you get blood drawn, urine tests, xrays, or CT scans. These all take time. It takes time for the blood to get to the lab, for the lab technicians to prepare it to go through the machines, and for the computers to calculate the results. The final step is that your doctor has to be able to get to the computer in between patients, see the results, and decide what to do with them.
There's a good chance that you will wait hours for your xray or CT scan. There are usually only 1 or 2 CT scanners for the whole hospital and the same concept applies here: Sick people go first. Just as you are about to go to the radiology department, another patient may bump you out of line because they were involved in a major trauma or there is concern that they are hemorrhaging internally. This may happen over and over again.
Technology rules the world but computers don't create results for your imaging studies. There is a radiologist sitting in a dark room looking at every image taken from every single patient in the department and meticulously interpreting it. This takes time and they read them in an order that puts the urgent patients first. They go as quickly as they can but they also have to be extremely thorough so that they don't miss anything on the images. Again, these results have to be entered into the computer and your physician has to find the time between patients to view them.
Next time you are in the emergency department (I hope you never are there), take a look around at the amount of patients that are in that small space. Your physician is treating every single one of those people at the exact same time. It's the ultimate juggling act.
Perhaps your doctor has your discharge paperwork and prescriptions in hand and suddenly a stroke patient comes through the double doors. Unfortunately, your paperwork will be thrown back down on their desk and that's another hour you might wait.
We live in a fast food society. There is an expectation that everything must be done promptly, that all information can be at our fingertips in seconds, and that a few minutes of waiting is a few minutes too long. The emergency department is it's own universe. There are no appointments and it isn't first come first serve. Every patient is valued but some are more critical and important than others in terms of promptness of care.
Next time you're heading into the ED for something that is not life or limb threatening, remember that there are others there for whom seconds literally count.
Grab a book, bring your ipod, and enjoy the show.
I frequently hear friends or family complain about waiting seven, eight, nine, ten hours in the emergency department for their medical care. Honestly, I feel for you. I really do. I know it can be frustrating and boring and can seem completely unnecessary to have to sit on a stretcher in a hallway for hours upon hours.
I want to shed a little light on why this happens and hopefully change a few viewpoints out there.
First and foremost, the emergency department is primarily for emergencies. The main focus is to resuscitate and stabilize people who are very sick and who may not survive without intervention. That's not to say that back pain, sprained ankles, vomiting, urinary tract infections, sore throats, flu-like symptoms, or lacerations don't have a place in the emergency department. Sometimes people don't have primary care physicians, cannot get an appointment with their doctor, or feel so lousy that they want some help in the middle of the night. I understand. Most emergency doctors and nurses are in the field because they like seeing "any patient, any time, with any problem." We don't mind treating more minor complaints.
There's just one very important caveat: Sick people get seen first. Always.
This means that you may watch 20 people come through the doors and get taken back from the waiting room while you continue to sit in your chair. This is because someone qualified and trained in medical triage decided that all those people were more sick than you. Every effort is made to see people in a quick and timely fashion, but in reality there are just too many patients. Sometimes it can take 4 hours before there is no one who is sicker than you are and then it's finally your turn.
This also means that once you are in a room or on a stretcher in the hallway, it may take some time before you are evaluated by a physician. Emergency medicine is all about prioritizing so sometimes the doctor must let someone wait so that they can tend to a critical patient. Your physician may be spending that hour resuscitating a child who has stopped breathing. The hour you wait is an hour that someone else is fighting for their life.
Next comes tests. Perhaps you get blood drawn, urine tests, xrays, or CT scans. These all take time. It takes time for the blood to get to the lab, for the lab technicians to prepare it to go through the machines, and for the computers to calculate the results. The final step is that your doctor has to be able to get to the computer in between patients, see the results, and decide what to do with them.
There's a good chance that you will wait hours for your xray or CT scan. There are usually only 1 or 2 CT scanners for the whole hospital and the same concept applies here: Sick people go first. Just as you are about to go to the radiology department, another patient may bump you out of line because they were involved in a major trauma or there is concern that they are hemorrhaging internally. This may happen over and over again.
Technology rules the world but computers don't create results for your imaging studies. There is a radiologist sitting in a dark room looking at every image taken from every single patient in the department and meticulously interpreting it. This takes time and they read them in an order that puts the urgent patients first. They go as quickly as they can but they also have to be extremely thorough so that they don't miss anything on the images. Again, these results have to be entered into the computer and your physician has to find the time between patients to view them.
Next time you are in the emergency department (I hope you never are there), take a look around at the amount of patients that are in that small space. Your physician is treating every single one of those people at the exact same time. It's the ultimate juggling act.
Perhaps your doctor has your discharge paperwork and prescriptions in hand and suddenly a stroke patient comes through the double doors. Unfortunately, your paperwork will be thrown back down on their desk and that's another hour you might wait.
We live in a fast food society. There is an expectation that everything must be done promptly, that all information can be at our fingertips in seconds, and that a few minutes of waiting is a few minutes too long. The emergency department is it's own universe. There are no appointments and it isn't first come first serve. Every patient is valued but some are more critical and important than others in terms of promptness of care.
Next time you're heading into the ED for something that is not life or limb threatening, remember that there are others there for whom seconds literally count.
Grab a book, bring your ipod, and enjoy the show.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Grasping to the Learning Curve
I'm here!
Really, I am.
I'm so sorry I have gone away & I promise to pay closer attention to this blog. Writing here and getting your feedback is so important to me. I'm going to catch up on reading your blogs too. Believe it or not, I have 707 unread blog entries right now from all of you. I'm sorry I've been so bad!
I've just been really really busy with this thing called INTERN YEAR. Let me just tell you, it's a lot harder than I thought it would be. They say the learning curve is steep when you transition from a 4th year medical student to a 1st year resident but I think the curve is not just steep. It's a totally vertical line. You basically spend your time trying to climb directly straight up on the learning curve while at the same time grasping on with all you have to prevent yourself from falling off completely. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel like a complete and utterly incompetent idiot. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't make mistakes. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't doubt my ability to do this and ultimately become a proficient doctor. In short, my confidence is at an all time low.
I wonder when I will stop feeling this way and when I will get to the point when I've climbed over the vertical curve and I am cruising up at the top. I wonder if I'll ever get there. They say I will. They say that everyone feels this way and that it will get better. It's hard to believe right now but I just have to put some confidence in the system and just keep pushing myself to get better every day.
Emergency Medicine is what I love. I know it's the right specialty for me and I'm sure I will be happy with my career. I want to love residency but it's a strong word when you aren't confident in yourself.
I'm happy to have the support of my husband, family, and friends to help get me through this. I also could not be doing it without this girl:
I get to come home to her wagging nub tail every single day and cuddle with her every night. No matter how my day was and no matter what happened, she is always there with endless love.
Deployment combined with residency is hard. Really hard.
It is is made so much better by my battle buddy.
Really, I am.
I'm so sorry I have gone away & I promise to pay closer attention to this blog. Writing here and getting your feedback is so important to me. I'm going to catch up on reading your blogs too. Believe it or not, I have 707 unread blog entries right now from all of you. I'm sorry I've been so bad!
I've just been really really busy with this thing called INTERN YEAR. Let me just tell you, it's a lot harder than I thought it would be. They say the learning curve is steep when you transition from a 4th year medical student to a 1st year resident but I think the curve is not just steep. It's a totally vertical line. You basically spend your time trying to climb directly straight up on the learning curve while at the same time grasping on with all you have to prevent yourself from falling off completely. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel like a complete and utterly incompetent idiot. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't make mistakes. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't doubt my ability to do this and ultimately become a proficient doctor. In short, my confidence is at an all time low.
I wonder when I will stop feeling this way and when I will get to the point when I've climbed over the vertical curve and I am cruising up at the top. I wonder if I'll ever get there. They say I will. They say that everyone feels this way and that it will get better. It's hard to believe right now but I just have to put some confidence in the system and just keep pushing myself to get better every day.
Emergency Medicine is what I love. I know it's the right specialty for me and I'm sure I will be happy with my career. I want to love residency but it's a strong word when you aren't confident in yourself.
I'm happy to have the support of my husband, family, and friends to help get me through this. I also could not be doing it without this girl:
I get to come home to her wagging nub tail every single day and cuddle with her every night. No matter how my day was and no matter what happened, she is always there with endless love.
Deployment combined with residency is hard. Really hard.
It is is made so much better by my battle buddy.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
You Call Me Doctor
Doctor.
You say that's me.
I'm not so sure.
It says "MD" on my name tag.
So I guess it must be true.
I have to let you in on a little secret.
Right now I'm just pretending.
In truth,
I don't know what I'm doing.
Or at least it feels that way.
It's July.
You shouldn't come to the hospital in July.
All these fresh faces.
All these new doctors.
I don't even know the way to the bathroom.
You call me "Doctor"
but it feels like
Halloween.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Officially Dr. Army Wife!
Well folks, the "Dr" in "Dr. Army Wife" is now official!
Yesterday I put on a heavy red robe, a goofy hat, and walked into a big arena filled with cheering spectators. I sat through some long speeches, walked across a big stage with my face plastered on the JumboTron, and accepted a heavy green hood around my neck. Someone called me "Doctor" for the first time and I gladly received a diploma that was about the size of my entire body.
Two days ago I was a medical student and today I am a physician. Granted, I am still far from competent, but hopefully I'll figure out what I'm doing after a few years of grueling residency.
There was, of course, one important person missing at my graduation -- my husband. The keynote speaker asked everyone to raise their right hand, grab a memory out of the air, and hold it to our hearts. He told us to think of the one important person who has supported us - the person who has helped us through the journey.
"That person may or may not be here today," he declared.
With my hand on my heart, I thought of him. I am so very lucky to have married a man who loves me, pushes me to pursue my dreams, and supports me through the good times and bad times. Even though he was across the world, I continued to feel his love and pride.
To my husband: I could not have done it without you. Those few small steps across that stage were minuscule compared to the steps we have taken together. Thank you for everything. I love you.
Yesterday I put on a heavy red robe, a goofy hat, and walked into a big arena filled with cheering spectators. I sat through some long speeches, walked across a big stage with my face plastered on the JumboTron, and accepted a heavy green hood around my neck. Someone called me "Doctor" for the first time and I gladly received a diploma that was about the size of my entire body.
Two days ago I was a medical student and today I am a physician. Granted, I am still far from competent, but hopefully I'll figure out what I'm doing after a few years of grueling residency.
There was, of course, one important person missing at my graduation -- my husband. The keynote speaker asked everyone to raise their right hand, grab a memory out of the air, and hold it to our hearts. He told us to think of the one important person who has supported us - the person who has helped us through the journey.
"That person may or may not be here today," he declared.
With my hand on my heart, I thought of him. I am so very lucky to have married a man who loves me, pushes me to pursue my dreams, and supports me through the good times and bad times. Even though he was across the world, I continued to feel his love and pride.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
I'm Not Your Doctor.
Please.
I'm begging you.
We just met.
You are not my patient.
I'm really not interested
in your
high blood pressure
high cholesterol
or
diabetes
I'm not at work.
Please don't tell me about
your
diarrhea
or
constipation
No, it's not normal
to have
blood in your stool
But seriously
I'm not your doctor
and
I don't even know you
I just want to enjoy my haircut
without hearing about your
menopause
I'm sure your hot flashes are terrible
and
I'm glad to know that you are taking
B12
I don't care that you have a
urinary tract infection
or that the
antibiotic didn't work
or that you
tried to drink cranberry juice
Can I please enjoy my martini?
I'm sorry you broke your arm last year
or that your appendix burst
and you needed surgery.
That is horrible that you had
significant hair loss afterwards.
I'm sure your
mammogram
hurt.
They always do.
I'm thrilled it was normal.
Your vaginal discharge
is none of my business.
I like not knowing.
Really.
I bet that hernia is uncomfortable.
and so are those hemorrhoids you kindly told me about.
The whole restaurant
enjoyed hearing
about that.
Your prostate exam?
Please, stop.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
I'll Always Be a Student
The sun shone on my face as I walked away from the hospital. It was a cool day but the sun felt warm and comforting. I looked back at the enormous building, smiled, and said a soft "farewell."
So much happened at that place.
I studied countless hours of biochemistry, immunology, and physiology.
I meticulously worked with my anatomy cadaver to reveal the intricacies of the human body.
I drank coffee.
Lots of coffee.
I studied 16 hours a day for a month to prepare for a single exam.
I hit the snooze button at 3:45 am.
Sometimes I never saw the light of day.
I made decisions that were right and I made others that were very wrong.
There were tears shed for dying patients and celebrations for babies born.
I watched 6 surgeons struggle for hours to save a man's life and ultimately succeed.
I helped families decide on hospice care and I watched as they said goodbye.
I touched the faces of 2 pound babies fighting for every breath.
I made children giggle hysterically through office visits.
I saw sheer joy as women heard their babies' heartbeats for the first time and I witnessed intense mourning when they did not.
I watched patients hit rock bottom on chemotherapy and I saw them smiling when they were cancer-free.
I learned about resilience and strength from patients who were not able to even tell me their stories.
Children with horrible genetic diseases showed me how to appreciate the little things.
I listened to a 27-year-old scream in pain every morning from her invasive cervical cancer. She was on enough pain medication to sedate an elephant and yet she still screamed.
Elderly women held my hand and reassured me that I would succeed.
Elderly men held my hand and told me I was beautiful (and other less tactful variations.)
I treated gang members, murderers, drug addicts, sex workers, and homeless schizophrenics.
In the same day, I treated philanthropists, teachers, social workers, and diplomats.
I learned something from every single patient that I came across and I wish I could thank them all.
Twenty-five years ago, I walked into early Kindergarten. This Friday I walked away from my last day as a medical student. The next phase in my career will bring countless new experiences, some of which will be wonderful and some heartbreaking. Regardless, I know that they will all teach me something important.
I may not be a student but I will always keep learning.
So much happened at that place.
I studied countless hours of biochemistry, immunology, and physiology.
I meticulously worked with my anatomy cadaver to reveal the intricacies of the human body.
I drank coffee.
Lots of coffee.
I studied 16 hours a day for a month to prepare for a single exam.
I hit the snooze button at 3:45 am.
Sometimes I never saw the light of day.
I made decisions that were right and I made others that were very wrong.
There were tears shed for dying patients and celebrations for babies born.
I watched 6 surgeons struggle for hours to save a man's life and ultimately succeed.
I helped families decide on hospice care and I watched as they said goodbye.
I touched the faces of 2 pound babies fighting for every breath.
I made children giggle hysterically through office visits.
I saw sheer joy as women heard their babies' heartbeats for the first time and I witnessed intense mourning when they did not.
I watched patients hit rock bottom on chemotherapy and I saw them smiling when they were cancer-free.
I learned about resilience and strength from patients who were not able to even tell me their stories.
Children with horrible genetic diseases showed me how to appreciate the little things.
I listened to a 27-year-old scream in pain every morning from her invasive cervical cancer. She was on enough pain medication to sedate an elephant and yet she still screamed.
Elderly women held my hand and reassured me that I would succeed.
Elderly men held my hand and told me I was beautiful (and other less tactful variations.)
I treated gang members, murderers, drug addicts, sex workers, and homeless schizophrenics.
In the same day, I treated philanthropists, teachers, social workers, and diplomats.
I learned something from every single patient that I came across and I wish I could thank them all.
Twenty-five years ago, I walked into early Kindergarten. This Friday I walked away from my last day as a medical student. The next phase in my career will bring countless new experiences, some of which will be wonderful and some heartbreaking. Regardless, I know that they will all teach me something important.
I may not be a student but I will always keep learning.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
It's a Match!
Just a quick update - I matched with my first choice residency program!!!!!!!!!!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Match
I am sitting in my apartment on the eve of the most important day in my medical education.
Match Day.
Let me explain:
"The Match" is the way in which all fourth year medical students secure a spot in a residency program. It's a long and arduous process that culminates in one day: Match Day.
It's the day we learn whether all of our hard work paid off. It's the day we find out if we will move to our desired part of the country. It's the day we find out if we get to stay in the city in which our family lives, our children go to school, or our husband works. It's the day we learn whether we get to go to that amazing program.
It's a HUGE day.
Every fall, medical students apply to multiple programs in their specialty of choice. They either get interview offers or they don't. After they are done with the interview season, each medical student makes a "rank list" of all the programs at which he or she interviewed (#1, #2, #3 etc in order of preference). The programs similarly rank all the applicants that they interviewed.
Then some little gnome in some alternate computer universe runs some elaborate algorithm that "matches" each applicant with his or her future program. Sometimes we think it's just someone throwing darts at a wall, but apparently there is a system. Thankfully, it is biased to the preference of the applicant. Let's say I rank Program A my #1 and Program B my #2. Even if Program A ranks me #7 and Program B ranks me #1, I will still get matched to Program A (unless all the spots have been taken by other students ranked higher than me). Understand? It's ok...most of us don't either. We just put faith in the system and hold our breathes.
The catch is that the program you get matched with is the program that you are stuck with. Do not pass go. Final answer. That's it. It is a legally binding contract. You have no choice.
This makes Match Day even more exciting.
Match Day is always the third Thursday in March. Every fourth year medical student in the country finds out where they will be going at noon EST.
This year it coincidentally falls on St. Patrick's Day.
I'm hoping this brings a lot of luck, especially since I married an Irish guy. It will definitely help with the celebration.
So, tomorrow at noon I will enter a large room on campus and a Dean will hand me an envelope. Sealed inside? My fate.
Wish me luck!!!! I'll try to post a short update tomorrow but I make no guarantees. Come on, it's Match Day and St. Patrick's Day.....
(PS - You may have the question: What if you don't match? Well, then you enter the "Scramble." Do you really want me to explain that one??)
Match Day.
Let me explain:
"The Match" is the way in which all fourth year medical students secure a spot in a residency program. It's a long and arduous process that culminates in one day: Match Day.
It's the day we learn whether all of our hard work paid off. It's the day we find out if we will move to our desired part of the country. It's the day we find out if we get to stay in the city in which our family lives, our children go to school, or our husband works. It's the day we learn whether we get to go to that amazing program.
It's a HUGE day.
Every fall, medical students apply to multiple programs in their specialty of choice. They either get interview offers or they don't. After they are done with the interview season, each medical student makes a "rank list" of all the programs at which he or she interviewed (#1, #2, #3 etc in order of preference). The programs similarly rank all the applicants that they interviewed.
Then some little gnome in some alternate computer universe runs some elaborate algorithm that "matches" each applicant with his or her future program. Sometimes we think it's just someone throwing darts at a wall, but apparently there is a system. Thankfully, it is biased to the preference of the applicant. Let's say I rank Program A my #1 and Program B my #2. Even if Program A ranks me #7 and Program B ranks me #1, I will still get matched to Program A (unless all the spots have been taken by other students ranked higher than me). Understand? It's ok...most of us don't either. We just put faith in the system and hold our breathes.
The catch is that the program you get matched with is the program that you are stuck with. Do not pass go. Final answer. That's it. It is a legally binding contract. You have no choice.
This makes Match Day even more exciting.
Match Day is always the third Thursday in March. Every fourth year medical student in the country finds out where they will be going at noon EST.
This year it coincidentally falls on St. Patrick's Day.
I'm hoping this brings a lot of luck, especially since I married an Irish guy. It will definitely help with the celebration.
So, tomorrow at noon I will enter a large room on campus and a Dean will hand me an envelope. Sealed inside? My fate.
Wish me luck!!!! I'll try to post a short update tomorrow but I make no guarantees. Come on, it's Match Day and St. Patrick's Day.....
(PS - You may have the question: What if you don't match? Well, then you enter the "Scramble." Do you really want me to explain that one??)
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The Conversation
Yesterday my husband and I had the conversation.
I'm talking about the "end of life" conversation.
Have you had one? Please do.
Deployment forces it upon you but it's a conversation that everyone should have and it's easier than you think. We ended our conversation with tears but it was worth it. I learned some things that I never would have known if I hadn't asked. For instance, I had no idea that my husband wants to be cremated.
Clearly, no one wants to talk about death. It's something that we all desperately try to avoid. We push it back into the far depths of our brains and never dare utter a word for fear that talking about it will make it come true. In truth, death is a part of life and we should all have control over our own lives.
God forbid anything suddenly happens to you. Making your wishes known is so incredibly important so that your health care providers can treat you in the way that you would choose. Also, understanding how your loved ones feel allows you to make easy decisions regarding their care. It avoids conflict, guilt, pain, and uncertainty.
Do you know what you would want if you were on life support with virtually no chance of a productive life? 10% chance of recovery? 40%? 70%? Would you want everything done or not?
How do you feel about feeding tubes? How do you feel about dialysis? Blood transfusions? Chemotherapy when you will likely die anyway? What does "quality of life" mean to you?
Do you want to be an organ donor? What about donating to education? Are there specific organs you wouldn't want donated?
Do you want to be buried or cremated or both?
What do you want for a funeral?
Do your loved ones know how you feel about these things?
Do you know how they feel?
Do you have a health care proxy? We should ALL have one. It doesn't matter if you are young, old, sick or healthy. If you are an adult, you should have a health care proxy.
What is a health care proxy?
A health care proxy is a person that you designate to make health care decisions for you if you are unable to do so yourself. It only takes effect if you are somehow incapacitated and cannot make your own health care decisions. This person will make any necessary decisions regarding your care and they will do so in a way that respects your wishes.
Who should I choose?
You should choose someone that you trust to make decisions based on your beliefs and not their own. It should be someone that you feel comfortable talking to about these issues. People usually choose their spouse, parents, children, siblings, or sometimes a close friend. Sometimes people even pick their lawyer. To avoid conflict (and Terry Schiavo situations), pick just one person. You can name others as back-ups if your health care proxy is unavailable.
How do I get one?
It varies a little by state but you don't even need a lawyer to get one. All you need to do take a little time to think about what you want for yourself, download your state form off the internet, fill it out, and have some witnesses sign it. Importantly, talk to your designated health care proxy about your wishes and let them know how you feel about different situations.
That's it. It's easy. I dare you.
Talk about it.
I'm talking about the "end of life" conversation.
Have you had one? Please do.
Deployment forces it upon you but it's a conversation that everyone should have and it's easier than you think. We ended our conversation with tears but it was worth it. I learned some things that I never would have known if I hadn't asked. For instance, I had no idea that my husband wants to be cremated.
Clearly, no one wants to talk about death. It's something that we all desperately try to avoid. We push it back into the far depths of our brains and never dare utter a word for fear that talking about it will make it come true. In truth, death is a part of life and we should all have control over our own lives.
God forbid anything suddenly happens to you. Making your wishes known is so incredibly important so that your health care providers can treat you in the way that you would choose. Also, understanding how your loved ones feel allows you to make easy decisions regarding their care. It avoids conflict, guilt, pain, and uncertainty.
Do you know what you would want if you were on life support with virtually no chance of a productive life? 10% chance of recovery? 40%? 70%? Would you want everything done or not?
How do you feel about feeding tubes? How do you feel about dialysis? Blood transfusions? Chemotherapy when you will likely die anyway? What does "quality of life" mean to you?
Do you want to be an organ donor? What about donating to education? Are there specific organs you wouldn't want donated?
Do you want to be buried or cremated or both?
What do you want for a funeral?
Do your loved ones know how you feel about these things?
Do you know how they feel?
Do you have a health care proxy? We should ALL have one. It doesn't matter if you are young, old, sick or healthy. If you are an adult, you should have a health care proxy.
What is a health care proxy?
A health care proxy is a person that you designate to make health care decisions for you if you are unable to do so yourself. It only takes effect if you are somehow incapacitated and cannot make your own health care decisions. This person will make any necessary decisions regarding your care and they will do so in a way that respects your wishes.
Who should I choose?
You should choose someone that you trust to make decisions based on your beliefs and not their own. It should be someone that you feel comfortable talking to about these issues. People usually choose their spouse, parents, children, siblings, or sometimes a close friend. Sometimes people even pick their lawyer. To avoid conflict (and Terry Schiavo situations), pick just one person. You can name others as back-ups if your health care proxy is unavailable.
How do I get one?
It varies a little by state but you don't even need a lawyer to get one. All you need to do take a little time to think about what you want for yourself, download your state form off the internet, fill it out, and have some witnesses sign it. Importantly, talk to your designated health care proxy about your wishes and let them know how you feel about different situations.
That's it. It's easy. I dare you.
Talk about it.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
The Other Kind of Pimping
If you wander through the hallways of a hospital, you may overhear seemingly inappropriate statements from physicians:
"Man, all Dr. XYZ does is pimp all day long."
"Yeah, I got pimped hard the other day."
"I just stood there and got pimped."
"Did you hear how much I got pimped at conference?"
Don't worry, your doctors are not working in the sex industry. The term "pimp" is part of everyday language in medical education and no one even thinks twice about its alternative definitions.
I'm not sure if anyone really knows where the term came from. Some people will tell you that it stands for Put In My Place but apparently the practice has been referenced as far back as 1628. In 1989, Dr. Frederick Brancadi published an article in the Journal of American Medical Association (JAMA) entitled "The Art of Pimping." He defined pimping as "whenever an attending poses a series of very difficult questions to an intern or student." More specifically pimping involves asking seemingly unanswerable questions for the purpose of maintaining the distinct seniority ladder.
Medical education is kind of like the military but without the push-ups, guns, and MREs. It is deeply rooted in hierarchy and respecting the order of things. Medical students are the bottom of the totem pole, followed by interns, residents, chief residents, fellows, attendings, department chiefs, chairs and so on.
Brancadi sarcastically elaborated on his definition:
On the surface, the aim of pimping appears to be Socratic instruction. The deeper motivation, however, is political. Proper pimping inculcates the intern with a profound and abiding respect for his attending physician while ridding the intern of needless self-esteem. Furthermore, after being pimped, he is drained of the desire to ask new questions - questions that his attending may be unable to answer. In the heat of the pimp, the young intern is hammered and wrought into the framework of the ward team. Pimping welds the hierarchy of academics in place, so the edifice of medicine may be erected securely, generation upon generation.
Dr. Brancadi's commentary on pimping is legendary and has sparked numerous follow-up pieces from other physicians. Even though he wrote his article over two decades ago, all of the general principles still hold true. It runs so rampant that there are actually entire books devoted to surviving pimp questions:
In my opinion, the worst pimpers are surgeons. I think this is because they have you physically trapped with them for hours at a time. You stand in one place and you can barely move for fear of contaminating something. You have to pee, your stomach is growling, and the only thing you have for entertainment is to stare at the surgeon's hands. You hold the retractors until you think your own muscles may just fall off. Just at the moment you feel like you may not survive, the surgeon looks up at you and says:
Surgeon: "Med student...(something unintelligible)....?"
Dying Med Student: "I'm sorry, Sir. I couldn't hear what you just said."
Surgeon: Dramatic sigh. "I said, what is this artery?!"
Confused Med Student: "Oh, umm, well I honestly can't see inside the surgical field but I'm guessing it's the external carotid?"
Surgeon: "You're guessing or you're telling me?"
Uncomfortable Med Student: "Well, I'm guessing because I can't see the artery from where I'm standing."
Surgeon: "Oh. Well, it's the .........(something unintelligible)...artery. It's only seen in less than 1% of the population."
Surrendering Med Student: "Oh ok, sorry. I'll have to look that up."
This video sums up the surgery experience pretty nicely:
There's a big distinction between teaching and pimping. One involves important information, applicability, and good intentions. The other involves obscurity, randomness, and alternative motivations. This, among a gazillion other reasons, is why I love emergency medicine. There is very little pimping in emergency medicine because emergency physicians have virtually no attention span or patience. The only thing that matters is what is relevant.
Therefore, I can honestly say that I don't care who invented that piece of OR equipment, who is singing the terrible song on the stereo, or why some organs are paired and others are not.
It doesn't change my management of aortic insufficiency if I can't remember never used eponyms such as Landolfi's Sign (alternating constriction and dilation of the pupil), Muller's sign (pulsations of the uvula), or Becker's Sign (pulsation of the retinal vessels). More importantly, I'd hope the ridiculously loud heart murmur would have tipped me off a little earlier.
When I grow up, I will be an attending emergency medicine physician and I will not pimp you.
Please don't take that the wrong way.
"Man, all Dr. XYZ does is pimp all day long."
"Yeah, I got pimped hard the other day."
"I just stood there and got pimped."
"Did you hear how much I got pimped at conference?"
Don't worry, your doctors are not working in the sex industry. The term "pimp" is part of everyday language in medical education and no one even thinks twice about its alternative definitions.
I'm not sure if anyone really knows where the term came from. Some people will tell you that it stands for Put In My Place but apparently the practice has been referenced as far back as 1628. In 1989, Dr. Frederick Brancadi published an article in the Journal of American Medical Association (JAMA) entitled "The Art of Pimping." He defined pimping as "whenever an attending poses a series of very difficult questions to an intern or student." More specifically pimping involves asking seemingly unanswerable questions for the purpose of maintaining the distinct seniority ladder.
 |
| www.roflrazzi.com |
Medical education is kind of like the military but without the push-ups, guns, and MREs. It is deeply rooted in hierarchy and respecting the order of things. Medical students are the bottom of the totem pole, followed by interns, residents, chief residents, fellows, attendings, department chiefs, chairs and so on.
Brancadi sarcastically elaborated on his definition:
On the surface, the aim of pimping appears to be Socratic instruction. The deeper motivation, however, is political. Proper pimping inculcates the intern with a profound and abiding respect for his attending physician while ridding the intern of needless self-esteem. Furthermore, after being pimped, he is drained of the desire to ask new questions - questions that his attending may be unable to answer. In the heat of the pimp, the young intern is hammered and wrought into the framework of the ward team. Pimping welds the hierarchy of academics in place, so the edifice of medicine may be erected securely, generation upon generation.
Dr. Brancadi's commentary on pimping is legendary and has sparked numerous follow-up pieces from other physicians. Even though he wrote his article over two decades ago, all of the general principles still hold true. It runs so rampant that there are actually entire books devoted to surviving pimp questions:
 |
| www.amazon.com |
Surgeon: "Med student...(something unintelligible)....?"
Dying Med Student: "I'm sorry, Sir. I couldn't hear what you just said."
Surgeon: Dramatic sigh. "I said, what is this artery?!"
Confused Med Student: "Oh, umm, well I honestly can't see inside the surgical field but I'm guessing it's the external carotid?"
Surgeon: "You're guessing or you're telling me?"
Uncomfortable Med Student: "Well, I'm guessing because I can't see the artery from where I'm standing."
Surgeon: "Oh. Well, it's the .........(something unintelligible)...artery. It's only seen in less than 1% of the population."
Surrendering Med Student: "Oh ok, sorry. I'll have to look that up."
This video sums up the surgery experience pretty nicely:
There's a big distinction between teaching and pimping. One involves important information, applicability, and good intentions. The other involves obscurity, randomness, and alternative motivations. This, among a gazillion other reasons, is why I love emergency medicine. There is very little pimping in emergency medicine because emergency physicians have virtually no attention span or patience. The only thing that matters is what is relevant.
Therefore, I can honestly say that I don't care who invented that piece of OR equipment, who is singing the terrible song on the stereo, or why some organs are paired and others are not.
It doesn't change my management of aortic insufficiency if I can't remember never used eponyms such as Landolfi's Sign (alternating constriction and dilation of the pupil), Muller's sign (pulsations of the uvula), or Becker's Sign (pulsation of the retinal vessels). More importantly, I'd hope the ridiculously loud heart murmur would have tipped me off a little earlier.
When I grow up, I will be an attending emergency medicine physician and I will not pimp you.
Please don't take that the wrong way.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The End of the Interview Trail...And An Award!
I drove down the highway singing as loudly as I could. As soon as I got home, I threw down my luggage, tossed off my heels, practically ripped off my suit, and plopped myself down on the couch.
I'm done with residency interviews.
It has been a long and tiring process and to be honest I didn't even have it that bad. Most people spend weeks going from hotel to hotel and program to program. They miss trains, deal with lost luggage, and end up sleeping in airports. Because of his job at the fire department, my husband and I are geographically limited for my residency search. Therefore it only made sense for me to interview at places within driving distance. I never paid for airfare, never got stuck in an airport, and never had to sleep on someone else's futon. I only stayed at a hotel for a couple nights. While some of my colleagues probably spent over $2000.00 on the interview trail, I spent a whopping $282.00.
Regardless, I'm tired.
I'm tired of wearing a suit when I will be wearing scrubs for the rest of my life.
I'm tired of small talk.
I'm tired of smiling and faking enthusiasm for every program even if I hate it.
I'm tired of asking questions for the sake of asking questions.
I'm tired of describing myself, voicing my strengths and weaknesses, and explaining why I chose emergency medicine.
I'm tired of awkward interview silences.
I'm tired of trudging through hospitals in uncomfortable heels.
I'm tired of pre-interview social events during which I nurse my one drink the entire evening as not to appear intoxicated but also not to appear a total prude.
I'm tired of listening to program directors recite the same statistics and describe the same thing at every program I visit.
I'm tired of sitting next to other applicants who hum "hmm mmm mmm" every three seconds.
I'm tired of trying to navigate my way through new cities and strange hospitals, all the while panicking that if I get lost I might be late.
I'm just plain tired and I'm so happy it's over.
Now comes the fun part - making a decision. No big deal, it's just the next 3-4 years of my life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On another note, I was given my very first blog award! Beckie over at He's Taken a Turn for the Nurse gave me the Versatile Blogger Award and I'm flattered. Definitely stop by her amazing blog and follow along with her adventures. Thank you, Beckie!
Wait, I thought interviews were over!
Ok, here are my 7 Versatile Blogger Choices (no particular order):
1. Tangerine Monday
2. Stethoscopes and Dog Tags
3. My Goal Is Simple
4. Stackett
5. Oh! Apostrophe
6. Consider the Lilies
7. FallonElla's Almost Fairytale
I'm done with residency interviews.
It has been a long and tiring process and to be honest I didn't even have it that bad. Most people spend weeks going from hotel to hotel and program to program. They miss trains, deal with lost luggage, and end up sleeping in airports. Because of his job at the fire department, my husband and I are geographically limited for my residency search. Therefore it only made sense for me to interview at places within driving distance. I never paid for airfare, never got stuck in an airport, and never had to sleep on someone else's futon. I only stayed at a hotel for a couple nights. While some of my colleagues probably spent over $2000.00 on the interview trail, I spent a whopping $282.00.
Regardless, I'm tired.
I'm tired of wearing a suit when I will be wearing scrubs for the rest of my life.
I'm tired of small talk.
I'm tired of smiling and faking enthusiasm for every program even if I hate it.
I'm tired of asking questions for the sake of asking questions.
I'm tired of describing myself, voicing my strengths and weaknesses, and explaining why I chose emergency medicine.
I'm tired of awkward interview silences.
I'm tired of trudging through hospitals in uncomfortable heels.
I'm tired of pre-interview social events during which I nurse my one drink the entire evening as not to appear intoxicated but also not to appear a total prude.
I'm tired of listening to program directors recite the same statistics and describe the same thing at every program I visit.
I'm tired of sitting next to other applicants who hum "hmm mmm mmm" every three seconds.
I'm tired of trying to navigate my way through new cities and strange hospitals, all the while panicking that if I get lost I might be late.
I'm just plain tired and I'm so happy it's over.
Now comes the fun part - making a decision. No big deal, it's just the next 3-4 years of my life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On another note, I was given my very first blog award! Beckie over at He's Taken a Turn for the Nurse gave me the Versatile Blogger Award and I'm flattered. Definitely stop by her amazing blog and follow along with her adventures. Thank you, Beckie!
Now for the "rules" of this award:
1. Thank and link back to the person who gave you the award
2. Answer 10 questions
3. Pass it along to 7 blogs you've recently discovered and enjoy
4. Leave your recipients a note, telling them about the award
The 10 Questions...
1. Why did you create this blog?
I kept the knowledge of my husband's upcoming deployment a secret for several months. We told virtually no one for a long time. After I let people know, I realized that I was having trouble talking about it and sharing my emotions and feelings. This blog is cathartic. It allows me to vent, share, celebrate, and reflect. Most importantly, it has helped me find other military spouses with whom I can relate.
2. What kinds of blogs do you follow?
At this point, mostly military spouse blogs. I'd love to follow more blogs from medically oriented folks as well.
3. Favorite make-up brand?
To be honest, I'm not much of a make-up person. I buy whatever my friends tell me to buy and I don't really wear much of it on a daily basis.
4. Favorite clothing brand?
Banana Republic & Ann Taylor are my go-to stores right now (mostly because my day-time attire ends up being "professional clothes" if not scrubs).
5. Indispensable makeup product?
Mascara is the only thing I wear on a somewhat regular daily basis.
6. Favorite color?
Blue
7. Favorite perfume?
It bothers patients so I don't really wear it.
8. Favorite film?
I really like Juno
9. What country would you like to visit and why?
Greece because it seems like such an amazing and beautiful place.
10. Would you rather forget to put mascara on one eye or forget blush on one side of your face?
I suppose blush on one side of my face. I don't wear blush so it's not really much of an issue! Wait, I thought interviews were over!
Ok, here are my 7 Versatile Blogger Choices (no particular order):
1. Tangerine Monday
2. Stethoscopes and Dog Tags
3. My Goal Is Simple
4. Stackett
5. Oh! Apostrophe
6. Consider the Lilies
7. FallonElla's Almost Fairytale
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Blizzard Bloghop 2011
Hi there everyone, this is Dr. Army Wife and I'm participating in the Blizzard Bloghop 2011 hosted by Household 6 Diva. To join, go link up & write an introduction post and then grab some tea (or wine) and blog-hop the weekend away!
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While I'm just starting out with this whole blogging business, it's been an incredible experience for me. It allows me an outlet for my feelings, a way to meet new people (especially other military spouses), and it makes me stop and think about the good, bad, and crazy things happening in my busy life.
A little about Dr. Army Wife: I have chosen to keep this blog semi-anonymous given the fact that I'd rather not be recognized by patients or residency programs right now. So, I apologize ahead of time that you won't be seeing pictures of my face. But doesn't it make me seem way cooler and more mysterious?
I'm a late twenty-something fourth year medical student just cruising through until graduation in a couple months. I live somewhere in the United States and hope to start a residency in Emergency Medicine...somewhere in the United States. I met my husband 6 years ago and we were married just this past October on the most amazing fall day that I can ever remember (minus the cold blue-lipped photo session).
My husband is a firefighter/paramedic/nursing student/Army reservist. Needless to say, he's just as busy as me! We are now facing an upcoming deployment overseas (his second, my first) and it's a pretty crazy time right now in our household. I'm using this blog as a way to cope as I stumble my way through the next year or so. I write about my life, the military & deployment, medicine, family, food, and whatever random other things come to mind.
Thanks for stopping by - can't wait to read your blogs!
While I'm just starting out with this whole blogging business, it's been an incredible experience for me. It allows me an outlet for my feelings, a way to meet new people (especially other military spouses), and it makes me stop and think about the good, bad, and crazy things happening in my busy life.
A little about Dr. Army Wife: I have chosen to keep this blog semi-anonymous given the fact that I'd rather not be recognized by patients or residency programs right now. So, I apologize ahead of time that you won't be seeing pictures of my face. But doesn't it make me seem way cooler and more mysterious?
I'm a late twenty-something fourth year medical student just cruising through until graduation in a couple months. I live somewhere in the United States and hope to start a residency in Emergency Medicine...somewhere in the United States. I met my husband 6 years ago and we were married just this past October on the most amazing fall day that I can ever remember (minus the cold blue-lipped photo session).
My husband is a firefighter/paramedic/nursing student/Army reservist. Needless to say, he's just as busy as me! We are now facing an upcoming deployment overseas (his second, my first) and it's a pretty crazy time right now in our household. I'm using this blog as a way to cope as I stumble my way through the next year or so. I write about my life, the military & deployment, medicine, family, food, and whatever random other things come to mind.
Thanks for stopping by - can't wait to read your blogs!
Monday, January 3, 2011
The Year Ahead
I don't usually do New Year's Resolutions. I've never truly understood the purpose of promising that I will exercise more (which I won't), eat better (I can't help it if I love all things pastry), or get more sleep (let's face it, I'm starting medical residency - not going to happen).
But, 2011 brings big changes.
This year I will:
2011 is certainly a bittersweet year and it's full of uncharted territory.
My 2011 New Year's Resolutions: Get out of bed. Take things day by day. Spend time with my friends and family. Support my husband, tell him that I love him, and show him I am proud of him. Work hard and learn something new every single day. Look on the positive side of things. Use my experiences to make me a stronger woman.
Just breathe.
But, 2011 brings big changes.
This year I will:
- Honeymoon in Costa Rica
- Watch my big brother marry my fantastic new sister-in-law
- Match into a residency program in Emergency Medicine - fingers crossed!
- Graduate from medical school.
- Work my first day as a doctor.
2011 is certainly a bittersweet year and it's full of uncharted territory.
My 2011 New Year's Resolutions: Get out of bed. Take things day by day. Spend time with my friends and family. Support my husband, tell him that I love him, and show him I am proud of him. Work hard and learn something new every single day. Look on the positive side of things. Use my experiences to make me a stronger woman.
Just breathe.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
There's a First For Everything
Today was a huge day in my medical education.
I performed my first lumbar puncture on a newborn.
For those of you who aren't familiar, a lumbar puncture (a.k.a "spinal tap") is a procedure done in order to collect a sample of the fluid that surrounds the spinal cord. This is known as cerebrospinal fluid and can help diagnose a multitude of conditions including infections like meningitis. A needle is introduced in between the vertebrae and into the subarachnoid space and the fluid is sent to the lab for evaluation. If done properly, the risk of hitting the spinal cord is actually very low because it ends a little higher than where we insert the needle. Nevertheless, it is still not an easy or risk-free procedure.
photo: http://www.cancer.umn.edu/
Usually the residents want practice and take the opportunity to perform the lumbar puncture before medical students. Well, today was my lucky day! The general philosophy in this pediatric emergency department is "your patient, your procedure." So when the attending physician quietly informed me that the patient coming into Room 2 was a four day old with fever, I just about jumped across the desks to click the computer and assign myself to the patient. I knew without ever seeing him or talking to the parents that the baby would need a lumbar puncture and I wasn't going to let one of the residents claim the patient first.
You see, any baby below the age of one month who presents with fever automatically gets blood drawn, urine samples, a lumbar puncture, and an overnight hospital admission with IV antibiotics. This isn't because they are definitely sick - in fact most of these babies just have a virus. However, upwards of 12% have a serious bacterial illness and this is not something worth gambling against. This unique subset of patients is susceptible to its own list of infections and the history and physical exam in babies this young is difficult to interpret. It may seem excessive, but the risk/benefit scale tips to erring on the side of caution.
The attending told me I had one shot and if I couldn't get it, then the senior resident would take over. I'll spare you the details for those of you who may have queasy tendencies...
The story ends with me carrying my four vials of cerebrospinal fluid out of the patient room and the attendings and residents cheering for me.
Today was a good day.
*Don't worry, the baby was fine.*
I performed my first lumbar puncture on a newborn.
For those of you who aren't familiar, a lumbar puncture (a.k.a "spinal tap") is a procedure done in order to collect a sample of the fluid that surrounds the spinal cord. This is known as cerebrospinal fluid and can help diagnose a multitude of conditions including infections like meningitis. A needle is introduced in between the vertebrae and into the subarachnoid space and the fluid is sent to the lab for evaluation. If done properly, the risk of hitting the spinal cord is actually very low because it ends a little higher than where we insert the needle. Nevertheless, it is still not an easy or risk-free procedure.
Usually the residents want practice and take the opportunity to perform the lumbar puncture before medical students. Well, today was my lucky day! The general philosophy in this pediatric emergency department is "your patient, your procedure." So when the attending physician quietly informed me that the patient coming into Room 2 was a four day old with fever, I just about jumped across the desks to click the computer and assign myself to the patient. I knew without ever seeing him or talking to the parents that the baby would need a lumbar puncture and I wasn't going to let one of the residents claim the patient first.
You see, any baby below the age of one month who presents with fever automatically gets blood drawn, urine samples, a lumbar puncture, and an overnight hospital admission with IV antibiotics. This isn't because they are definitely sick - in fact most of these babies just have a virus. However, upwards of 12% have a serious bacterial illness and this is not something worth gambling against. This unique subset of patients is susceptible to its own list of infections and the history and physical exam in babies this young is difficult to interpret. It may seem excessive, but the risk/benefit scale tips to erring on the side of caution.
The attending told me I had one shot and if I couldn't get it, then the senior resident would take over. I'll spare you the details for those of you who may have queasy tendencies...
The story ends with me carrying my four vials of cerebrospinal fluid out of the patient room and the attendings and residents cheering for me.
Today was a good day.
*Don't worry, the baby was fine.*
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Fourth Year Is For Resting
It's an epidemic.
I'm not talking about the swine flu, obesity, or Bieber fever. I'm talking about senioritis and fourth year medical students worldwide are inflicted with the most severe cases ever known to man. There is no way of stopping it (although I'm pretty sure we would decline the immunization even if there was one). After years of pushing ourselves since kindergarten to attain the highest grades and impress all the right people, we are finally at a point where we can breathe. Residency applications are submitted, board exams are finished, and no one will see our grades except the registrar. Studying glycogen storage diseases until the wee hours of the morning has quickly been replaced with watching Jersey Shore marathons until our eyes bleed and we are convinced that "Snooki" would be a really great name for our first born child.
Scrubs are worn as much as possible, white coats are nowhere to be seen, and combing hair is clearly optional. Our email inboxes are flooded with messages from the Deans telling us that we really do still have to show up at the hospital everyday.
Residents and attending physicians can easily recognize the symptoms and they all know the treatment. After all, they remember when they suffered from the same ailment years ago.
A subtle tap on the shoulder and a quiet whisper: Go home...fourth year is for resting...
You don't have to tell me twice!
I'm not talking about the swine flu, obesity, or Bieber fever. I'm talking about senioritis and fourth year medical students worldwide are inflicted with the most severe cases ever known to man. There is no way of stopping it (although I'm pretty sure we would decline the immunization even if there was one). After years of pushing ourselves since kindergarten to attain the highest grades and impress all the right people, we are finally at a point where we can breathe. Residency applications are submitted, board exams are finished, and no one will see our grades except the registrar. Studying glycogen storage diseases until the wee hours of the morning has quickly been replaced with watching Jersey Shore marathons until our eyes bleed and we are convinced that "Snooki" would be a really great name for our first born child.
Scrubs are worn as much as possible, white coats are nowhere to be seen, and combing hair is clearly optional. Our email inboxes are flooded with messages from the Deans telling us that we really do still have to show up at the hospital everyday.
Residents and attending physicians can easily recognize the symptoms and they all know the treatment. After all, they remember when they suffered from the same ailment years ago.
A subtle tap on the shoulder and a quiet whisper: Go home...fourth year is for resting...
You don't have to tell me twice!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Hello World!
As if life isn’t busy enough, I’ve decided to take on the challenge of writing a blog. I’m not sure if I’ll ever live up to the blogging skills of my good friends over at Oh! Apostrophe and Meet the Schwajaks! but perhaps someone out there will find this worth reading. In truth, I hope that this will be cathartic for me as I face what may become one of the most difficult years of my life: the combination of intern year and my husband’s deployment to Iraq. Both of these life changes are only a few months away and I’m gearing up for what will definitely be a long and sleep-deprived journey. I’ll probably write a lot about these things, but don’t be surprised if you see some postings about my loves...family, friends, and FOOD.
Enjoy!
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