Estoy practicando respirar

It’s true poetic justice when your own human weakness proves your own vincibility. I had just about made it. Made it out of my month of trauma, my month of long hours and no sleep. I had kept it up, thought I could get away with it. Started believing my own invincibility. Believed it to the point that I ignored the sore throat that had started gnawing throughout the day last Friday. Believed it, until I woke up June 30th undeniably sick. Beyond the help of gummy vitamins.

I still go to work. We are residents, it’s what we do. It’s not an uncommon site to see a resident who is sicker than their patients. Plus, July 1... Had to be there for that. All hands on deck for the new interns.

I should have taken a hint when my intern asked to have July 1st off without giving a reason. I said no. He had gone to the chief residents and asked them not once, but twice. He had again been told no, twice. I had both emailed a list of expectations, and spoke to him on the phone how July 1st was to play out. Efforts which proved to be in vain, when I showed up to the 4th floor residents lounge July 1 ready to meet with him and round, instead was told by the night intern that my intern had yet to show up for the day, nor had he gotten any sign out on our patients. I’ll summarize and say we had a rough start. Nice welcome to being a senior surgical resident for me. *Note sarcasim* Got to teach him the importance of 1) being where you’re supposed to be   2) when you’re supposed to be there, and.  3) prepared to do what needs to be done.

July 1 was followed by July 2 and the start of our program’s new call schedule. No longer will we be having months of night float. We’ve switched to a 24 hour call schedule and I was up first for 24hr senior call. By this time, the virus that had started blossoming a few days prior had taken up residency in my lungs making me feel like I couldn’t breathe and my voice was half gollum, half squeaky  church mouse.

I didn’t even try to be productive when I finally got home from call. I went to bed with no plan to get out of it again until work the next day if possible. My lungs still feel like they don’t want to breathe, but I make’um anyways. Hopefully a little bit better each day. And my intern will be just fine as well. You could see that he knew he had messed up. I can work with that.  We’re all going to be just fine.

Much Love.