it’s a little disorientating going from a rotation where people drop like flies to one where a death, even unavoidable, is not acceptable.
i’m currently in the crypt called the labour room, where i shout encouragement at women bringing new life into the world, while getting my own spirits crushed each day. most of my superiors are less than friendly and even after 2.5 weeks in the department, i’m still unsure about what i’m expected to do on my own and what absolutely 100% requires input from my medical officers before anything is carried out.
whenever i encounter unpleasant people, i usually rationalise by saying that they’re alot more stressed than i am because they shoulder alot more responsibility. if they cope by being sarcastic and snappy, fine, as long as the patients are alright. besides, housemen aren’t perfect. we make annoying mistakes (that sometimes our superiors forget they probably made as well), some of us do indeed need a lesson in humility, and all of us have alot to learn.
but there were times in the last few weeks when i found myself thinking…maybe they’re just mean, and there’s no rationalising about it.
for me, i cope by talking to the fresh-out-of-the-oven babies i examine each day. as i cradle their heads and force their eyelids open so i can look for ocular abnormalities, i tell them about my day. i ask them what they’ve done to deserve to be born into such a cruel world. i stroke their cheeks and think about how, in 20 or so years, they will also be in a job they both love and hate.
but for now all their senses are focused on the comfort of their mother’s breast…and things will be alright.
i’m still waiting for the day i wake up in the morning looking forward to work. i hope it comes soon. 8 months and counting.