anna in med school

It’s been a big week.  I felt like week 1 on surgery (last week) was mostly orientation and trying to figure out which way to spin when the scrub nurse helped me into the surgical gown.  The second week of a clerkship is always a little better…still felt totally out of sorts with limbs flailing and heads spinning, but not like a complete burden to both surgical team and patient.

This week consisted mostly of hospital-eat-sleep-repeat, with little slivers of studying and no reflection or writing.  Therefore, I’m backdating some entries that I want to make sure get written before I forget some truly novel (to me) moments!

In the past two weeks, I’ve probably worked the most with this quintessential tough-guy surgeon who is, let’s be honest, absolutely phenomenal at what he does.  Not that it matters, but I decided that I really liked him when he cranked his favorite Pandora station during a 10-hour surgery and unembarrassingly admitted, “I’ve been told the music I listen to is that of a 13-year-old girl.  I agree, and I could give a —-.”

Yeah…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear Jessie J without thinking of him.

Yesterday and today I gave two presentations.

The first was to my fellow students and the attending in charge of medical student education; it was on the topic of Wilms tumor.  Unlike last week’s presentation when I got my ass handed to me, this week’s went much much better.  This doctor is kind of a scary man upon first encounter–tall, lumbering, and so serious.  But he is a phenomenal, albeit intimidating, educator, and brilliant physician who is completely devoted to his patients.  And when he does flash the rare, slight smile in my direction, I can’t help but feel a wave of relief and approval; he might as well have given me a gold star.

Today was a presentation on the use of laparoscopic adjustable gastric banding in severely obese adolescents in front of the entire department, including a surgeon who did a fellowship in bariatric surgery.  To say I was careful with my words is an understatement.  I dodged a bullet since the surgeon who has a reputation for grilling medical students mercilessly happened to not be there this afternoon.  Instead, the team threw me a few softballs following the presentation, then entered into their own philosophical debate on the subject.  A quick smile and nod from the attending described above signaled my dismissal.

Of course, it could always have gone better.  I still notice soft catches in the back of my mouth, a few stumbles over words, but in general I feel like I’m not quite so afraid of my own voice.  I look at the attendings, even residents, who use so many big words and never say “um.”  I wonder how long it took them to get there; I wonder how long it will take me.

Today was there was an oversight of which I was the beneficiary.  A resident was not assigned to the first surgery in my OR, so the attending pointed at me, “What’s your name?  Looks like you’ll be assisting.”  It was my fifth day in an OR and one of my favorite days of medical school so far.

It was a laparoscopic appendectomy complicated by a previous perforation.  Don’t worry, the surgical attendings here are so flippin’ talented, they would be just fine to have anything with a pulse be their assistant.  Still, instead of my usual 90% observing-10% retracting during a surgery (no complaints, it’s always a privilege), I felt like I was actually worth the air I consumed in the OR today.  I guided the camera, searched the abdominal cavity for other locations of infection, stapled, lassoed, and sutured.  There aren’t words to describe the rush of it.

After we closed and de-gowned, the attending went to sign off on the operative note.  After a few minutes she called everyone who wasn’t involved in the waking of the patient over and pointed to the top of the note that read:

Surgeon:    Dr. ————–                   

Assistant:  Jesus                                      

“I’ve never had Jesus as my assistant before; how many doctors can say they have??  I wonder what the family will think.”  I’m foreseeing this being a thing for the rest of my career, but it still makes me smile.

Today I held a tumor the size of a cantaloupe in my hand.  We removed it from a little person the size of a watermelon.

My mouth only sort of dropped when the surgeon said something to the effect of “It’s always a good thing when these surgeries turn out to be anticlimactic.”  ???  We just removed 35% of this kid’s body weight in tumor!  Point being: the kid’s going to be fine.  Isn’t medicine the best?

I love old friends coming to visit who give you an excuse to try that funky restaurant or shop you might have heard of but never entered.  And I am so appreciative of new friends who know my city better and always have the best recommendations of good eats and new adventures.  This weekend was a combo of both, wrapped up in a brunch that inadvertently lasted almost three hours.

None of us had been to Honey’s Sit ‘n Eat before.  I think they might have ruined me for life, because I’ll never be patient about wait times again.  I arrived first and placed my name.  Though the host was not surprised, he seemed sympathetic to my disappointment that it would be an hour to hour-and-a-half wait, and quickly suggested that I visit The Random Tea Room a half block away: “Have a cup of tea; it’s the best!  Then we’ll walkie-talkie over when we have a table for ya.”  I think walkie-talkies need to make a come-back.

So the three of us met up there and settled into the kind of couch that you sink down into and antique-looking stools.  With them enjoying the best gluten-free muffins I’ve ever tasted (we met at 11am so, let’s be honest, I had already consumed first breakfast, but I had to taste!) and me sipping on a most luxurious soy latte, the hour-twenty sailed by in a blink.  It was perfect for the foggy, nippy Saturday morning.  Then we braved the elements and returned to Honey’s a half-block away, where we took our time with several cups of coffee and perfectly constructed omelets.  (Yeah, I totally  felt guilty looking out the window at the people still waiting the hour+ for my seat…but brunch is something you can’t rush.)

Brunch is the best meal.