A good gig
Long time, no post.
Sorry about that. I've been a little busy with work. Like 100 hours a week busy. (In truth, that actually sounds a lot worse than it feels. As the people in the Phoenix say, "It's a dry heat.")
This won't really be much of a post. I should have been in bed an hour ago because I'm on call tomorrow night. I'm off this weekend, though, so hopefully a lengthier diatribe is soon to follow.
For now, in brief...
There have been some incredibly amazing gratifying moments--times when I think, damn, this is good gig.
And, there have been some incredibly exhausting frustrating moments--times when I have to remind myself not to chuck a chart at the wall.
I have had some really good doctor moments.
I have had some really crappy doctor moments.
(This is starting to sound like the beginning of A Tale of Two Cities... It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.)
At some point last week, as I was hiking up the stairs between floors, it suddenly hit me...this place is beginning to feel like home. That may sound a bit depressing, considering the aforementioned "this place" is a hospital, but in fact, it was a rather comforting realization.
I still don't really know what I'm doing most of the time. I can find the call rooms and the cafeteria but never made it to that code yesterday because hell if I know how to get to cath lab.
But, the nurses seem to be on my side. The case managers help me blow through my discharges. The attendings don't care that I'm the only resident who doesn't wear her white coat. And every day, I meet someone new that I genuinely like.
Much more often than not, I must say, it's a really good gig.
11 comments:
Good to hear from you, but we all know that you're busy as hell.
It's weird how places begin to feel like home...sometimes more so that home itself. I know that's how I feel about the restaurant.
I came to view nurses as the most important people to know. If they like you, your life will be so much easier. If they don't like you, watch out.
And to be honest, most of the nurses I knew were smarter than the doctors. Seriously.
good people make all the difference.
And honestly I thought you wrote that people in Phoenix call it a dry heave, which is way funnier.
i started laughing because the "best of times worst of times" went through my head before i saw you wrote it...
i'm glad it's starting to feel like home; i think it's because you are at home with what you're doing. even though you're still learning and finding your way through it, you're finding what you are meant to do... and that's pretty damn cool.
is it wrong that I can only picture you working in a tv way, like in ER or Scrubs?
I can't find the cath lab either. Or the regular lab for that matter.
In any case, I'm super proud of you!!
Ah little one, you've written to us at last. I knew it was the long hours keeping you away. I'm thrilled that you're liking your "gig" because it would be a tragedy if you didn't after all your hard work.
I'm curious as to why you're not wearing your white coat. Did you not get it back from the cleaners in time? Did the previous patient splatter you with blood?
I can't wait to hear about some of your patients and their ailments and what you have done for them.
I'm sure that Maria is right about the nurses. Some of them have probably been there a long time and have seen it all. Imagine how flattered they would be if you asked if they had an opinion on something, just casually? You would probably make friends for life!
Anyway, it's good to hear you're ok and beginning to feel at home. Bless you sweetheart.
The white coat weighs me down, Madame. Things seem to find their way into those pockets and it's not long before I'm hauling around a bunch of crap and taking Advil for a sore neck.
Some studies show that physicians get more respect in a white coat, but I don't seem to have any trouble in that regard. I get back what I give...no matter what I'm wearing. In fact, the patient who probably respected me the most as a doctor met me in the middle of the night when I was wearing a zip up hooded sweatshirt, scrub pants, tennis
shoes, and no makeup.
How's that for a study? :)
What a lovely, heartwarming post, T.
You seem to be going through that marvellous stage between
"being qualified and working as a doctor"
and
"being a doctor".
Long may you reign.
It's not that you're not posting enough, it's just that there's two years to catch up on.
At the rate I'm going, I'll catch up in about Dec.
Thanks for the explanation little one. I think that I wouldn't care two hoots what you were wearing, in fact, if you were wearing runners I'd be impressed that you broke your run to come and visit me :)
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