men

so frustrating! I was referred to as a "skirt" today by an older cardiothoracic surgeon who is reknowned for flirting with...anything female. It made me very angry. I wish I could get over this - - - Like, I wish I didn't have a dry pile of leaves just waiting to get sparked by some comment like that before it is set into flames. I'm not sure how to walk this line - being female and feminine, and still being able to do something professionally that men have traditionally done. I've been told several times that "there is no crying in surgery." As if! If I feel like crying, I have the right to cry. And if it makes men uncomfortable, or if it makes them think I'm weak, they have another thing coming. There are days when I think," I'd rather just go home and have babies." But this wasn't one of them. There is something inside of me that sort of locks in like a bull dog when I feel disparaged because of my gender.

Should I not be trying to be a surgeon because my body was made to bear children? Would I be doing this if I were married? Good questions - and yet, it is frustrating that the same men who "don't like operating with women" don't realize that if there were a man who was smarter than me, he would have gotten my position in the residency program. They should be happy to operate with me! I am restraining myself from writing the expletives that come to mind.

And then I realize that I actually have to learn to live with this.

early

One ought not to write a blog from the hospital. But, if one got here in time to see 8 patients, and only had 2 to see, one might feel bored and want to use her time resourcefully.
So here I am. Late night because I got a pedicure and had Indian food with the girls. It was fun, though my budget can't handle that kind of thing with regularity. My toes are nice, which is good since I wear socks, shoes, and compression stockings over them most days.
If you haven't worn compression stockings, you have not truly lived.
All for now!
-E

uh oh

I wrote a dosage very wrongly. My chief resident was not happy. I was rather upset with myself. I guess it was bound to happen, and now that it has, hopefully it won't happen again. These are the things that make you hyper-vigilant. It's good to make the errors now, I guess, when there are people watching over you. I felt really dumb, though.

I got to sew up a guy's rear-end after we had removed a lipoma (aka benign fatty mass). It was fun! My resident told me I did a good job. : )

I have the weekend off! Whoopee! I think I'll paint the trim in my bathroom. And study some. Right.

Cheersio,
E

Dude! I'm tired. Or tard as they say around here. And I had July 4 completely off! What am I complaining about? owell. I got to remove a colon today. And a melanoma. And yesterday, I helped clean out a femoral artery so a guy could get blood to his right leg. It's fun! And I'm getting less skittish about ordering things for my peeps. That said, 3:20 am is not when God intended people to get out of bed. I feel quite certain of that. I may go to bed now - it 6:45pm. That's reasonable! I still would just get over 8 hours.

Male surgeons are curious creatures. They wear these do-rag things on their heads and saunter around the hospital like thugs on a Friday night and expect people to part the waters as they walk by. That's not completely fair. Some don't - but some do. This is something that I will never do - for many reasons!

I'll explain the finer points of those reasons later.

Cheers,
E

Elizabeth at 4am. I was cutting my fingernails as I realized they were too long to allow for proper knot tying. Don't I look eager and energetic?




Elizabeth at 9am the next day - 29 hours later. So much for eager and energetic. And what happened to my hair?? I can tell this profession is going to do wonders for my dating life.

Intern - first day on call

With much trepidation - I left my house at 4:10 am, arrived at the hospital at 4:40 am, and began ... waking up the patients. Aren't you glad you didn't try to sleep at a hospital saturday night? No sleeping on my census!! Anyway, I, M.D. Dr. Dale, now have full rights and privileges to write Rx for patients. My first order: "Advance diet to clears". Don't worry - no malpractice here. I first made certain the patient had had flatus since her operation. Flatus, i.e. noxious fumes exiting from the rectum, is my daily bread. What an elegant profession. If you only knew how much I trembled just to write those words, "Advance diet to clears." It's tough to be doctor. : )

I think it was a light day, there were only 3 traumas, and those not until evening. I even slept a few hours!

By the end of the day, I was ordering blood transfusions on ICU patients. Steep learning curve, huh?

I didn't get to put in any lines (i.e. big ivs into big veins) because they were on on very complex patients that if I screwed up, they would die. That was ok. I'll get more chances.

So that's the real story --- and I still haven't been in the OR. Trust me, the title of the blog will be true someday...soon.