cruella deville

I am really good to my patients. I am sensitive, sympathetic, and spend more time than most listening to them. But recently, for the first time, my well of compassion ran completely dry...

I had a scheduled C-section with a patient who I was warned was crazy. Having encountered difficult patients before, I thought nothing of it. This patient was a drug abusing alcoholic who had showed up on labor and delivery pregnant and drunk several times. Her own brother called DCFS on her ass. Since I once aspired to be a psychiatrist and have a lot sympathy for addicts, I wasn't bothered in the least by this informaiton. That is, until I finally met the patient.

A more annoying individual has never walked the face of the earth.

"A doctor once told me that since I had a C-section with my first baby, my bowels and bladder could be stuck together. Do you think my bowels and bladder are stuck together? Do you? Do you? Do you?" After hounding me with this question, she hounded the anesthesiologist, the nurse, and the medical student, then came back for me.

Now that she was on the brink of having her baby (along with certain DCFS involvement, given her history of substance abuse) she was full of irritatingly vocal remorse. "Oh!" she wailed loudly, "My poor baby. I hope my baby is okay because I love her so much. I love my little baby. Do you think my baby's okay? Do you? Do you? Do you?" She began to sob, sitting on the OR table while the anesthesiologist tried to do her spinal. "Oh!" she wailed. "I just love my little baby so much! So much!"

"Ma'am," said the exasperated anesthesiologist, "you have to try to sit still so that we can place your spinal." Thank God for the medical student, who walked over to the patient and held her hands. "There, there," she said. I leaned against the back wall of the OR and examined my cuticles.

It was the same thing during the procedure. Before we had even cut open her uterus she was sobbing and yelling, "is my baby okay? Why isn't she crying yet?" Since I was weilding the knife I decided to ignore her and focus on the task at hand. My chief resident, bless her heart, did her best to answer the patient's questions.

Contributing to my irritation was the fact that I had a bad cold. The definition of misery is wearing a mask during surgery while snot runs down your face and into your mouth. And you can't do a damn thing about it because your hands have to remain sterile. In my mind I muttered a string of Yosemite Sam expletives: "Yassafrackafrickamaka..."

Rounding on her post-op was a nightmare. She was attention-seeking and would make up problems. Even though I was certain she was full of crap, I couldn't ignore her complaints on the slim chance that she wasn't crying wolf. So my morning rounds were slowed down by orders for lab tests that all came back normal.

I bought myself flowers on the day she was discharged from the hospital.

People are still having sex

It was inevitable. Lonely, horny, unhappy residents spending all their time in the hospital, no time for a social life...mayhem ensues.

A fellow second year resident, PR, confided that he is having an affair with a nurse. They hit it in a deserted stairwell after hours. Thing is, Nurse Comfort has a husband and two small children at home. PR tells me her marriage is on the rocks, which is not surprising given the fact that she's having sex with residents in stairwells. If girlfriend thinks she's got a golden parachute after she leaves her husband, she's mistaken. PR says that he's just in it for the sex and he's not trying to raise another man's kids.

PR is also having an affair with a chief resident. She's this miserable, desperate, depressed, moody person who pre-PR was always moaning about not having a man. She weighs about 400 lbs. PR makes a big show about telling me and others that he wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole, but I am convinced he's touched her with something much shorter. Last night at a party, I playfully told PR that he couldn't keep a secret. Big Sybil overheard and said meaningfully, "oh, yes he can. Yes he can." I looked at the two of them, and I suddenly knew, beyond a doubt that they were lovers. Classmates and I had been speculating about the two of them for months. PR acts very casual around Big Sybill. Big Sybill on the other hands acts like a woman who would like to declare her love but can only hint at it. I feel sorry for her. It's humiliating to have sex with someone who won't claim you in public.

PR makes my classmate who sleeps with medical students look like the Pope.

disillusionment

Where do I even begin?

It's been so long since my last blog, and so many noteworthy things happen to me on a daily basis that it's hard to know where to start in this posting. So I guess I'll start with my wonderful and much needed vacation to Miami last week. I stayed with a fellow resident in South Beach, aka Beautiful People Central, where the women are thin and the men are gay. I spent an entire week reading trashy novels on the beach and loving every minute of it. My friend is also a resident so she couldn't spend much hang time, which was fine. South Beach reminded me of L.A., and like L.A. I found it a pleasant place to visit but I could never think of living there. Too few black folks, not enough sista love and I don' t speak Spanish (yet).

It was a much needed mental break as well. I felt like I was buckling under the pressures of residency. Some days I thought I might actually break. Being in Miami gave me perspective. The politics of this program, the chatter, the gossip, don't amount to a hill of beans in the long run. I am going to finish the program, I am going to be an Ob/Gyn, and I am going to be doing exactly what I chose to do with my life, which is a luxury.

My classmates on the other hand are becoming very disillusioned with Ob. One who recently married told me that she would be perfectly happy not practicing medicine after graduation. This shocked me, because she seemed so passionate about the field when we started residency. I guess after a year and a half of getting the shit kicked out of her she is ready to throw in the towel. Her husband is a pediatrician so she'll probably kick back, push out a couple of rug rats and become a housewife like her mother. A very well educated housewife. She is committed to finishing the program only because she started it.

Another classmate has been whispering in my ear that she is sick and tired of this program. She is a crazy nut who is selfish, domineering and has the kind of bedside manner that will get her sued in practice because her patients dislike her. Like the Housewife, she also says that she does not want to practice Ob when she finishes. Unlike the Housewife, she doesn't have a husband-safety net. However, her parents are wealthy and overly indulgent so I am sure she will be able to find some way to occupy her time after graduation.

There is a lot to be sick and tired about in this program. We just got our holiday vacation schedule this year. We have only 5 days off for the holidays, when we used to have a week. Also, we have been assigned to work 36 hour shifts we get back from vacation. It is illegal to work 36 hours. The chief resident responsible for making the schedule caught me perusing it one day at work. She said to me in a stone-faced, menacing manner, "We are working 36 hour shifts because it was the only way to get adequate coverage. You are not to report that we are doing this. If you report it, we won't get time off for the holidays at all".

A threat. One of the few good things I used to be able to say about this program was that it at least attempted to respect the work hour restrictions.

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The other day, an attending was trying to communicate with a Spanish speaking post-op patient. Her English was limited, his Spanish is nonexistant and there was no translator in sight.

Attending: "Ma'am, no intercourse for 2 weeks"

Patient, confused: "Huh?"

Attending: "Um, no sex for two weeks"

Patient: "Huh?"

Attending: " Um, 'sexo'? With your boyfriend? No relations for two weeks.

Patient: "Huh?"

Attending, going for broke: "Uh.... NO FUCKIN'!"

Patient, smiling broadly: "Si. Okay!"