Friday, February 15, 2019

Soy introvertida.


Sometimes, I wonder how we survived before our cell phones. We still wear our trusty….  incredibly annoying, but trusty, pagers on our waistlines, but even those are getting replaced by HIPAA compliant texting apps. At any one point in time you could be texting in any and all of the following groups.
  • The group including all residents
  • the group including just senior residents,
  • your service group without the students,
  • your service group with the students included,
  • the group including the rounding Attending for that day,
  • the group including the Attending for whom you are seeing a consult for,
  • the group including the ED attending, asking you to see yet another consult
  • the group including the medicine residents asking for your updates about your mutual patients
  • the group including the ICU residents who are taking care of your ICU service patients,
  • individual texting streams between co-residents
  • and if you’re lucky any various number of social groups demanding your attention as well.
So much information gets passed around instantaneously, I wonder at how anything got done in the past. I imagine much more leg work and time was spent to achieve the same results. Now my Attending can make a request and with a little strategery and well sent messages, I can have an answer and/or a task completed by the time my Attending has moved onto his next thought. 

It definitely has its place.

On the other hand, having a constant demand for immediate response can be rather stressful and troublesome. Even trying to focus for a 7 minute conversation with a patient is difficult because your psyche is acutely aware that your cell phone keeps vibrating in your pocket… messages needing response, questions needing answered, consults needing seen.

The other day a message was sent out to the ‘WMC residents’ group asking who was on call. My introverted self was exasperated. It was yet another message I needed to look at, someone else needing something. And then one more decision I had to make to not respond, which then caused guilt that I had not responded to my colleague.

When I finally ran into the resident who had sent the message I challenged him. Why the message had even been necessary as the answer to his question was the click of an app away. Seriously, by clicking on the app for our call schedule and then clicking on the day, the list of residents on call would drop down for him. Much easier and quicker than typing out a text to the group and then waiting for a response.

His eyes widened at my challenge, and he responded, “but I wanted to text my friends!” He knew how to find out the call schedule himself, but he had instead seen an opportunity to text with his friends and opted for the social method of gathering his information.

Now it was my turn for my eyes to widen. I had merely interpreted the scenario from a purely introverted perspective. Shying away from an unnecessary conversation and then guilt for ignoring my co-resident. Whereas, my extroverted colleague had simply wanted to enjoy his co-residents in the small ways possible when you have a busy day.

The gap between introversion and extroversion widened and bridged at the same time by our instantaneous communication and texting.

Much Love.

Wednesday, February 13, 2019

Estoy cosechando órganos.

One fine Valentine's Day in Chicago... I remember it was bitter cold as I walked down the sidewalk to the nearest 'L' stop. I rode the 'L' North to the Children's Hospital wrapping my coat as tight as possible until finally inside and out of the frigid blackness of the Chicago morning waiting yet to be broken by a ray of sunlight. I was surprised to find Dr. Backer was already in his office, he had beat me in on Valentine's Day of all days! I got to go on my first organ procurement that day! I got to give a heart for Valentine's Day! Second best day of my life thus far!!

So this year, in honor of my favorite Valentine's Day gift! I went on procurement again. Just slight differences.  1) It was the day before Valentine's Day.  2) We weren’t harvesting the heart  3) and, in the end the organ was deemed too diseased and not safe for transplant.
So to summarize, it was not similar to February 14, 2012 at all. But, still a good experience!
Taking off from Westchester! If you squint beyond White Plains you can see the city in the distance!

Looking South down the Hudson with the Tappen Zee down below!

Attempting to take-off to get home again!

Tiny plane vs blizzard!!

 Tiny plane wins!!

Headed home again!

Much Love!

Monday, February 4, 2019

Estoy enterrando cajas.

I had an experience with a patient many years ago. I actually blogged about it HERE using the analogy of a box to paint a picture. I had talked about a box, but she definitely was much more than a cubic piece of cardboard. She had been through so much with her disease, yet her son and husband faithfully stood by. Her loyal advocates. I wasn't expecting to ever see her again, and definitely not under the situation in which I did.

I was on call. And as calls tend to go... it was busy. I had just split our team, sending three residents to the ORs leaving a single intern on the floor and myself. A trauma rolls in and I get a text for a STAT consult, needing to be seen emergently. Now, as an aside, if anyone is able to figure out how to split oneself and successfully be two places at once, please share your knowledge. For it is something we desperately need. Until then, we will continue doing as we do. I received the trauma, made sure it was stable, and then headed off to see this STAT consult. I was nearly rendered speechless when I turned the corner, and saw my box sitting there. I approached almost cautiously, trying to convince myself that it couldn't be the same box. But then I saw her son, loyal as ever, right at bedside, and I knew without a doubt. And same as last time, she again was asking to be picked up. No... let me clarify. She didn't need to ask this time. Just one look, and a lump rose in my throat. This box was about to burst into flames. At least this time I wasn't the intern trying to get my senior to respond. I already was the senior. I called my attending, and made my arguement. To which the attending responded, "oh, :( she's going to die!" Wasn't much else that needed to be said. And we went to the OR. Anything less would have simply been watching her die.

I'm not keeping count, that would be too depressing, but the weight of the battles fought and lost is sometimes harder to ignore. As I walked through the ICU late that call, I consciously kept my head down. There was more than one candle being lit in my collection, and perhaps I was ashamed. Almost afraid to confront them, and hence I kept my eyes down and instead reached out with the soul inquiring if they were okay, if they were finally at rest, and if they could forgive me.

Much Love.