Thursday, March 13, 2014

Day 2874: I am not a surgeon

I did my first of four overnight calls Monday night. I was at the hospital at 5:30am and left at 8:30am Tuesday morning. I slept for 30 minutes, from 3:15am to 3:45am, when I asked my senior resident if I could nap before I scrubbed in to a surgery for an incarcerated hernia (= a benign hole in you muscle tissue that your intestines can protrude through; incarceration = stuck = bad = possibly dead intestines = sad face).

In the operating room, I was dead tired. I was bored out of my mind. I didn't do anything. And of course at 4 o' clock in the morning, my attending decides to teach and ask questions. I could barely keep my eyes open, much less tell you about the incidence of incarcerated inguinal hernias.

Then, Wednesday, my next day back to the hospital, I was out of it. I was tired all day, I couldn't scrub in to surgeries properly, I was cranky, I was crabby. I feel like all of these things suggest rather obviously that I am not a surgeon. I don't love being woken up in the middle of the night to operate on kids. Maybe if I was doing the operating, it would feel cooler. And, per all the surgeons, operating is fantastic because you get to directly affect change and see results pretty soon thereafter. Versus medicine, which is what I want to pursue, relies a lot on patient compliance and is a slower process for any form of success.

I don't know kiddos. I like procedures. But I think I like my life more than I like doing stuff. So, goodbye surgery. You were never on my list of to-dos (you kind of were with urology, but certainly not general surgery) and it seems to have stayed that way.