Estoy buscando ese plano perfecto.

It is proving to be a week of bad timing. All-in-all rotating up at MidHudson ranks very high on the scale of chill, but that 1hr commute is a killer. I mean, it’s one thing to stay post-call for a case and then stumble home across a parking lot mid-afternoon. It’s a whole other thing to finish a case post-call and then have a 1 hr drive on a narrow winding road to traverse. At this point, my decision to stay post-call for a case depends on 1) the case, and with increasing weight, 2) which attending. My decision earlier this week to drive up to MidHudson post-call was primarily based on the attending. Some could question my sanity for that decision, as he is an older surgeon, given to yelling in the OR. He’s the type that will stand up from the robot so I can take over, but before fully stepping aside, stop and stare at me while yelling to the nurse, “Cynthia! I need my aspirin!” And then while I’m working, yell at me every two seconds, “No don’t cut, dissect! Dissect!” followed immediately by, “No don’t do that! That’s barbaric! Cut! Cut!”  I’m not exaggerating, it makes my head spin. I spend the majority of the case just trying to discern what it is he actually wants. At one point the other day, I actually paused exasperated by the barrage of contradictory instructions, and in my head threw up my arms at a loss for knowing what next move was going to be acceptable to his seemingly bipolar personality. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as “in my head” as I thought as I saw my connected robot arms flip up and out in accordance with my exasperation.  Whoops! I quickly recovered and continued, laughing to myself at my robot’s spastic movements (only minor tongue in cheek there).

So, why subject myself unnecessarily to such beratement and confusion?  It is not some twisted general surgery version of Stockholm syndrome. There are many types of yelling encountered in residency, ranging from strings of expletives to a sharp narrowed look. Our role as recipient is to discern which ones merit attention, and which ones, not even a half second of thought. In this particular case, in my opinion, it merits attention. Honestly, there is a higher level of finesse, exact dissection, and superior respect of tissue exhibited in that Attending’s surgery. I won’t go into detail, but in essence, not every surgeon out there possesses the same technique. And as my time in New York dwindles, I want to spend the remainder learning that higher level of finesse and respect wherever possible. Even if it means driving an hour post call to do the case. I know that the delivery is not ideal, but somewhere in between his incongruous directions and requests for double-strength aspirin, he is actually trying to teach. Trying to direct me to that clean and perfect plane, not the easy plane that most surgeons settle for, but that plane one cell layer of tissue deeper that is pristine.

Love and Prayers.

50 days!!

Estoy regresando al corazón.

Spent more time playing video games and running this week than doing surgery. Granted both were very purposeful, even though they sound like I'm slacking. 

Passing the Fundamentals of Endoscopic Surgery exam is obligatory in order to be considered eligible to sit for the General Surgery board exam. At least it was until COVID. Last year required an exception clause to that rule, and it has yet to be reinstated. That being said, testing centers are open again, so my co-chiefs and I went ahead and signed up. Hence the playing video games. I spent hours staring at a screen making my way through a simulated colon popping balloons, picking up balls and putting them in baskets. Ok, perhaps it was more involved than that, but in the process many balloons lost their lives to my preparation. Now just need to wait and find out if their sacrifice was in vain... I hope not!

Playing the video games, interrupted my ability to be in the OR. This was expected, and why I specifically scheduled FES while I was scheduled to be at MidHudson. With minimal responsibility, my absence is the easiest to achieve with minimal effect on any co-resident. But I felt the lack of operating as a result. Even on call, I followed my call team around waiting for them to give me something to do, but other than helping them with traumas and procedures, no cases were operative that I could take to the OR. 

As for the running, honestly, just trying to keep my head attached. 8 weeks!

Love and Prayers

Estoy soportando mis amigos.

The day after my last post, look what was waiting for me when I got home from work.

Not green, but promising just the same! Made me smile!

The following is really random, so let me explain...

I was getting home from call at approximately 10:30am and the only thing I wanted at that point was to stop standing. Perhaps even to fall over. I get to my building and am unable to open the door. The key code doesn't work, so I try my physical key, to no avail. I walk around to try to get into the next building, then plan to get into my building via the underground tunnels. That didn't work. I fiddle with the door a few tries more. I finally give in and call security and maintenance. Knowing it takes them 45min to respond, I plan to break into my apartment through the window I have cracked. (I have finally given in and leave it open 24/7 to let my neighbor's cigarette smoke out, so I don't have to come home to a smoky apartment). But right then, up drives my knight in shining armor. Well not really, he couldn't get the door open either. Which in a way, made me feel better that I hadn't just been too tired or too weak to open the door. Cause.... that would have been embarrassing. But he did at least have a key that worked on the next building and was able to get in via the tunnels and then open the door from the inside. So a knight at least. I thank you, Sir!

Love and Prayers!

Estoy preparando parar.

Finally feels like the car is starting to slow down. There's a STOP sign up head, a ways yet, but finally visible. This crazy journey shall be taking a turn, and the STOP sign is shining bright red in my future, warning me not to take this turn lightly. It will require a transition of gears and merging into my new role. Therefore, I am trying to slow down, shift my focus from operating as priority back to the basics of studying as priority in preparation of the board exams that are up ahead.

This month I am rotating up at MidHudson Regional Hospital in Poughkeepsie, NY. The commute is 1hr each way, and every trip I pay attention to the trees, waiting expectantly for the buds to burst and the green to finally return to the thick gray branches that line the Taconic. I look for the new leaves as if I need reassurance that new life is coming. And then chide myself at my own doubt, as if the past 34 springs haven't been enough evidence of the natural cycle of new life after death. So I sit back and enjoy the drive. At least until the next trip when I catch myself examining the passing trees for any change in their buds or branches, and have to work through the same internal discussion once again.  I think I'm just extra ready for Spring this year....

There are only one or two residents that rotate up at MidHudson each block and therefore, not enough to maintain adequate 24hr coverage. Therefore MHRH is staffed with surgical PAs and we as residents are rather superfluous. I'll be honest... for someone gearing down and preparing for the approaching STOP sign, it's kind of perfect. I get to show up, operate, go home, occasional take call back at WMC Valhalla, but then return and repeat. I like all of the attendings up at MidHudson, and appreciate what they have to teach. Plus, we get to use the robot on an almost daily basis for our cases. 

On a side note and only half off topic... Had my first graduation celebration the other night! Made it finally feel incredibly real that time is ending here. 

I had learned about the yearly Top 50 Restaurants in the World list that gets published, and the fact that one of those restaurants, is literally in my backyard. Currently listed as #28 in the world: Blue Hill at Stone Barns.

So why not?  I set an alarm on my phone when reservations opened and grabbed them. We had so much fun! The chef was actually a visiting chef from New Mexico and had brought his own clay from New Mexico to New York, then mixed with local clay, and made all of the dishes we ate off of. They told us it was to add tactile sensation to our experience. There was a total of 12 courses, and as per tradition, we did not know the menu beforehand. Therefore, each course was a fantastic fun surprise.

Once the courses started to require utensils. They didn't just set our place with utensils.... they handed us a tool belt. One pocket for each course

Utilizing that tactile sensation to get the full effect of this course! Red beans and chicos, sonora wheat, and fermented squash. So unbelievably tasty!

It was our last utensil, so sad that we were at the end of our delicious meal... the cherry bark ice cream had almost melted by the time we finally gave in.

Turns out, somewhere between 1 and 12 we had lost track of the courses. Last one: Sweet tamales and biscochitos.

We were given the menu at the end. 

Needless to say, we left Blue Hill at Stone Barns well satisfied. Happy graduation to me! 

Love and prayers!

Estoy perdonada.

 March is my least favorite month. Of no fault of its own. Could almost even blame February for being exactly 4 weeks long which means March 1st falls on the exact same day of the week as February 1st. March 8th on the same day as February 8th, and so on and so forth. For someone who has been in a perpetual state of treading water, living one day at a time, and waiting; that repeat of days makes March feel like a repeat of February rather than a month closer to anything. But it's more than that now. At one point, probably almost 20 years ago at this point, I had expected something to happen in March. And it didn't. So I waited for the next year. And the next. And the next. It never did come, and eventually anticipation was replaced with dread. March only brought with it, disappointment. Over the years this has been compounded, a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Few examples, Match day is in March. Or one word, COVID. This year unfortunately was no different. 

This year, God wanted to widen my perspective, widen my understanding, of inequality and injustice. I've seen and experienced different treatment because I am female in the past. I'd vent about it and move on. What I experienced last month, was in a word, disgusting. An individual with power over me, exerting that power for his own agenda. There were many meetings involved, much council sought. Frustration: it actually limited my ability to do my job. Thankfully, without asking questions, my team stepped up where and when needed, so the patients didn't actually suffer. Anger: I got home from work one night and went out and ran 5 miles taking a whole minute off my personal best. Confusion: grappling with the task of accepting what was happening. A feeling that I am not heard, and have no voice, simply because I am female. Responsibility: as the behavior pattern is repetitive (I'm not the first recipient), anything less than action could only be taken as cowardice. Looking at the young female junior residents coming up behind me, and wondering which of them would be next, shook any lingering apathy that perhaps still clung to my consciousness. 

Even after the meetings concluded, and the matter closed, that last thought kept me, for the longest time, from truly forgiving my attending. I felt that my forgiveness would give him license to repeat his actions towards one of my younger female co-residents. 

Easter Sunday, held a very specific message for me this year. Forgiveness. I am forgiven. Therefore, I am to forgive. I can not control a man's actions by refusing to forgive him.  All facts that my brain knew, but my heart stubbornly refused to admit, which of course was only limiting my own joy and peace. 

I can't quite say that I am thankful for the lessons God taught me this past March. I would prefer not to have anyone experience unequal treatment or injustice because of their race, color, gender, social status, religion, myself included. We are all human beings. We all have a voice and deserve to be heard. Jesus loves every single one so much He died on the cross and rose again. For every single one. 

Next year, can we go from February to April?

I know. I kid. I kid. 

Much Love and Prayers.