Surgical Life

Surgery in the winter was like living without the sun. I would wake up at 3:30 or 4 in the morning, chug some coffee, shovel out my car in the black of night, and drive myself to the hospital. I would check on my patients, write some notes, and meet my team for rounds at 5:30am. By 6:30, we would all end up at the cafeteria for what I liked to call Second Breakfast and to "run the list" of patients with the whole team. Chug more coffee, egg and cheese sandwich, then off to the OR!

I spent about a week on each team: Vascular, Pediatrics, Minimally Invasive, Surgical Oncology, Private Surgery. And every once and a while, my pager would go off and I'd race to the Trauma room to learn my ABCs - Airway, Breathing, and Circulation, or to see the result of some horrific accident. Trauma pages were always interesting, and never happy.

Operating was exciting at times, but usually I practiced my Surgical Watching Skills. As a third year, I was on the very very bottom of the Surgical Totem Pole. If I hit the jackpot, I'd get to First Assist, and perform surgeries! I amputated a right leg and a left big toe, stitched a carotid artery with tiny little needles, placed endoscopic ports, cut off chunks of colon, and performed an anal wart removal (woo hoo!). On a normal day, if I was lucky, I'd get to suture wounds closed at the end of the case, or hold the scissors or the suction. But like I said, most of the time, I'd spend the surgery standing, watching and waiting - ready to help at any moment. Debating whether or not to move my hands or pick up a tool. On a bad day, I'd be placed in an awkward position, intertwined with a surgeon or nurse, holding retractors at impossible angles, and yelled at if I touched anyone and contaminated them. My muscles would burn and burn, but the surgery depended on my discipline and steady grasp.

At the end of a day, after some lectures or sign-out (sometime between 5 and 10pm), I would head back to my car, again without the sun.

I worked about 70 hours a week on average (that means 12hrs daily M-F + 10 hours on the weekend). As a medical student, I have an 80 hour limit, and finally learned just how exhausting an 80 hour work week could be.  I completely gave up on my personal health. But honestly, my surgery rotation was one of my favorites - and even had me considering a future as a Surgeon. I learned so much so quickly and actually had a ton of fun roaming the halls of the hospital like I was on an episode of Scrubs.

If I do a Surgical rotation during 4th year, I just hope I see a little bit more of the sun...

Cold and Dark and Sick and Psychiatry

Winter has been cold (Polar Vortex Cold). And dark (Sun Sets at Four Dark). And exhausting. I caught a cold on Pediatrics (as expected) and am in bed sick again today.  Being sick (twice now) really tips me over from a high-functioning medical student to a unorganized wreck.  I quickly unravelled from being able to cook all my meals, pack lunches, exercise, study daily, take care of patients, finish my notes on time, make all deadlines, and have time for side projects to barely meeting the requirements of my rotation and falling apart when I have to write an MPH paper or go away for the weekend.  I guess I have a limit, and am able to handle all of these responsibilities until I get sick. Then it becomes too much. Poor Lisa.

A college friend and I used to scold each other when we would get into similar ruts, and tell each other to "get over your life dysmorphic disorder," or LDD.

Body dysmorphic disorder is a true psychiatric illness in which the patient has excessive concern about and preoccupation with a perceived defect of their physical appearance, despite appearing normal to others. These patients are inconsolable, and feel like they are deformed. Extrapolated, I am still functioning and in all honesty have a wonderful and amazing life, but here I am complaining and worrying and dwelling on a perceived defect in my life (being sick), therefore I have LDD.

(You will not find LDD in the DSM-V, the diagnostic guide to mental disorders that I have been using daily on my Psychiatry rotation.)

Alright, so we were being a bit insensitive. People suffering from body dysmorphic disorder aren't just complaining (like I am), they are really sick. But she was right that in my ruts, like this one, I shouldn't focus on the small things that I perceive as defective or negative (*I can't believe I slow down when I get sick*), and need to be more appreciative and realistic (*Everyone slows down when they get sick, chill out!!*). Clearly I respond to cognitive behavioral therapy...