Winter of my Reconstruction

Several nights ago there was a mandatory meeting for us residents. We were asked to openly discuss issues that bothered us about the program so that we could all work together towards making it better.

The meeting was held at a ritzy hotel downtown where we were filled to the brim with wine, multi-course meals, and delectable desserts. After eating, we had to express our opinions.

I couldn't help but think of the books I read in the past about people's experiences with cultural revolutions in Europe or Asia, where intellectuals were asked to express their ideas in front of the dominant political party, but then executed later for saying the wrong things. I think we all wanted to be honest on Monday evening, but I for one wasn't sure of what I could really say and to what extent they really desired our honesty. But there was safety in numbers and together we expressed some of our sorest contentions.

The most common theme in people's complaints was the amount of work and hours we are forced to do compared to other training programs out there. I don't think this will change despite our complaints, as there are no realistic solutions at this point. We're a busy hospital with a huge population of underserved, poor patients (making us busy all day), and these are the type of patients who also get involved in lots of violence and traumas which lead to busy on-calls for us at night. Well, I'm here now at this program because that's what I wanted before, an urban hospital, at a time when I was more idealistic and unafraid of hard work.

Sometimes I feel guilty for complaining about my life, because nobody put a gun to my head and said I had to be a doctor. Everyone knows what a doctor's lifestyle is, even the streety waiter whom I worked with at a restaurant all those years ago. At that time, I was dating a doctor (briefly), and my co-worker said to me, Forget about it, don't have a relationship with a doctor. I asked why, and he said, "He'll never have time for you." He said it like he knew from true personal experience although he had none. I guess people just know.

Now I'm the one who's actually a doctor and sure enough, I have no time for anyone I care about and love.

I'm tired of feeling tired all the time but even more than that, I'm tired of being so negative every day. That's what I've been reduced to these days, a ball of negativity.

Tomorrow is the first of November, which isn't symbolic of anything except that it's the first of something, and I'm aiming to change. To be more positive in all realms of my life. Sel de la Terre was the name of a restaurant Christopher introduced me to in our earlier days. It also means "salt of the earth," a Biblical expression for a good human being, through and through. I want that to be me.

Ten Little Indians...

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the incredible pressures we face on the job. Why, I lamented, do help and support not arrive until it's too late, ie, the anesthesiologist is found overdosed on fentanyl on a bathroom floor?

Despite my anguish over the last few months, I have survived surprisingly well compared to some of my other peers. One of them was involved in a horrifyingly bad incident with his patient in the operating room and ultimately, the patient died. There have been meetings already with the hospital attorney.

Another guy in my class has been mysteriously deteriorating, to the point that he was forced to be drug tested this morning. Apparently, some of his "symptoms," like disappearing between cases, falling asleep on the job and needing vigorous physical stimulation to wake up... can be signs of growing addiction to Fentanyl. So far, nothing has been proven yet, but he's a nice guy and I feel sorry for him. If the drug test is positive he will surely be asked to leave, most likely to rehab, and most likely never to return here or anesthesia in general.

I'm holding on tenaciously to the facets of my life outside of medicine: my fiance (hereby named Christopher), my dogs, my cat, my interests in friends, books, writing, and the outdoors. A doctor must fight every day for his/her right to a satisfying, normal life outside of the hospital; otherwise, the pressures of our job could very well subsume us.