Life's Persistent Questions

"Every time I think I'm out...

they pull me back in." I thought I can sleep in on Sunday after two weeks of nights at the county hospital. No luck. Three pages at 7am woke me up, and 10 minutes later, I'm racing back for another day shift when the rest of SF sleep off its hangover. 13 shifts in 14 days and probably around 170 hours is a little rough. Oddly, I love working at the county hospital-it is my favorite site. I rather stay up all night, popping in a-lines and cordises (sp?), and double fisting pumps to infuse packed cells and FFP into half dead guys than almost anything else in the world. Yes, on some level we all dread the lack of resource or technology at such hospitals that depend on government founding and hampered by state regulations. Not to mention the lack of medical history from most of the patients. And there is the language barrier, Spanish, Chinese, Tagalog, Vietnamese, the list goes on. But in some ways, it is more rewarding taking care of under-served populations. I always do my best and they appreciate that (even if they can't tell me in words).

Compare to the 20 year old that had the million dollar ( or three) work up for chronic fatigue, who needs another diagnostic surgery to make a futile grab at an impossible diagnosis and wants to dictate her own anesthesia, give me a break. Or that 50 year old with an allergy list longer most people's medication list, dear lord. Sometimes, it is us doctors' fault. The problem of working at a research hospital is that the doctors study zebras, collect zebras, and so they see zebras everywhere. What, a test is negative, then it's only more interesting because the zebra is more elusive.

I think I have found my calling in the county hospital. Just let me take calls. Traumas, emergency, not to mention gyne diseaster saves, they float my boat. Now, if I could only learn to speak Spanish. I cannot describe the awesome feeling when I walk into a room, after been told that "we need to get a Cantonese interpreter," then proceed to make the patient magically start speaking Mandarin, calm the freaked out patient and the frantic nurses down, and sail into the OR. Done and done. Imagine the double threat of Chinese and Spanish working in this city, it more than compensates for my lack of English.

posted by hedgehog @ 7:58 PM