The best word I can think of to describe this past week is not one that I was ever expecting to use, Gentle.
This is my new team. The schedule they created for my first month gently eases me into our group's typical rotation of week call. In other words, True was on call this week, and I took call on Tuesday and Thursday to give him a little break during his week. I am not scheduled for week call for another few weeks. This gave me the extra time needed to figure out the new computer system, to get lost in between the hospital hallways enough to figure out were I can find my patients, and work out the kinks of things that come with starting a new job like my pager not receiving the trauma alerts, or how to call in the teams so I can do a case at 10pm. Kind of important.
As True was rounding this week I spent a careful amount of time with him, in order to start making mental maps of the hospital, get my questions answered, and to start showing my face to those I'll be working with in the OR, the ED, on the floors, etc. This leads to the first lesson I learned this week. Whenever meeting new people, I'd introduce myself, who I was, who I was working with, etc. And inevitably, the response was along the lines of admiration and respect for my partners. The most significant came from one of the ED docs, who offered that the main reason he had decided to stay permanently at Franciscan was because this group of surgeons are so good. For a little background, the relationship between ED docs and surgeons is historically rough at best and tempestuous at worst. So hearing that meant more than what is carried by the mere definition. In conclusion, for someone in my position who is limited in time, to develop and establish myself as an independent surgeon, God has seen fit to place me in such a situation with maximum potential. The bar is high, very high, and should I put in the effort, we'll see what God can do with these hands next.
The second lesson I learned this week was not as happy to learn. Don't get me wrong, it was humbling, and good to learn, just not happy. While rounding one day, prior to entering a patient's room, I leaned over to the PA and asked her if anyone would yell at me if I did xyz. She looked at me with alarm and responded, "No one is going to yell at you!" More than her response, but her alarm at my question, caused a lump to rise in my throat (which I quickly pushed down since we had now entered the patient's room) and allowed me to finally believe something that I had doubted ever since my interview back in October of 2020. Which is that surgeons can be supported by their partners, by their teams, and by their hospital staff. I had left my interview in October in absolute disbelief that such a thing could exist, and my now partners were all just trying to paint me a pretty picture, it wasn't actual truth. It's a whole new world! And yet.... I got home from call the other day with a well-known sinking feeling. No one had yelled at me. No one had been hurt. No one had even told me I had done anything wrong. I just knew I could have done a better job. And it forced me to admit to myself something I'd always known. It never did matter who was yelling, how loud they were yelling, or even what they were saying. The only voice I ever heard had always been the loudest and most severe anyways. It had been my own.
Despite my imperfections, subpar decisions or slow decisions, my lack of confidence in treatment plan or diagnosis; despite whatever issue I'm yelling at myself for; I pray that God can mold me into a vessel worthy of whatever task He deems needed. Wherever He deems it needed.
Much Love.
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