The n00b Files - Week 1 of Transplant Surgery

More things I've learned, some more pleasant than others:

Lesson 1:

One of the best things about being a surgeon is that you get to make people listen to your favorite music when you operate, if you're so inclined.

Lesson 2:

One of the worst things about being on your surgery rotation is that you have to listen to your attendings' favorite music while they operate, if they're so inclined. Sometimes you like their music, and you jam out to Chumbawumba and Third Eye Blind and Hootie and the Blowfish behind your mask. Other times it's lots of Nickelback and Lifehouse and really bad Top 40 and you feel like your ears are bleeding.

On a related note, it's funny when middle-aged white surgeons have club music on their playlists.

Lesson 3:

LUNGS ARE HUGE. I'm talking, each lung is like twice the size of my face. On the real. They're all puffy and somehow remind me of two large-ish Teddy bears. I saw live lungs for the first time last night. Crazy thing.

Lesson 4:

Organ transplantation, when successful, is a wonderful thing, giving recipients a new lease on life. What one often doesn't think about is organ donation, which almost always happens when a patient dies. I came face to face with that part of the equation last night during an organ harvest. It was surprisingly disconcerting to see the patient wheeled into the OR, and then to see the patient's vital organs being removed and the patient's life blood being flushed out. All a part of the circle of life, to be sure, and organ donation is a way to make a senseless death worth something more to others. But all these things being true, it's still a difficult thing to stomach, at least at first.

Lesson 5:

I apparently have a tendency to experience dysphagia (ie, difficulty swallowing) and subsequent throwing-up on mornings after I've had very little sleep the previous night. I've had two such nights in my 5 weeks of the surgery rotation so far, and I've thrown up on both of the following mornings. This has happened to me in the past before, too. This can't be good, as I'm sure residency will put me in this very situation many, many times. Must learn to pace oneself in the morning instead of trying to nom after a long night.

Lesson 6:

If you don't watch sports, it might be smart to start doing so in order to interact with a large number of patients during semi-awkward situations. One of my teammates last month could always talk to patients about sports while changing their bandages in order to distract them from the pain. I usually stood mute, especially when the patient was a man and I was pretty sure we had nothing in common. The talking-about-sports route was much better.

Lesson 7:

When asking questions to attendings, be careful not to ask too many questions that reveal your lack of knowledge. Otherwise you might find yourself being told to research your own question and report back to the attending the next morning. Which is what happened to me today when I asked one too many questions about the steps of a kidney transplant. Drat!

Lesson 8:

Sometimes people are just kind of crabby and prone to snapping at you. That's pretty crummy.

Lesson 9:

You know how on Grey's Anatomy, whenever they're doing a transplant they anxiously wait for the organ to "pink up" while thoughtful music wells up in the background? Yeah, that happens in real life, too. I got a bit of a kick out of that.

Lesson 10:

You'd be amazed how quickly a pink bowel turns white when it's not getting blood flow anymore. Conversely, if you look away for a second after a kidney transplant has been attached to the recipient's blood supply, you'll miss the magic moment when it goes from being white to being a rich purplish-pink. Blood flow is cool.

Ostrich

Every once in a while I get to acting like an ostrich with its head in the sand. I get ensconced in my routine, used to the way I run my life, and fail to reach out and grab the chances offered to me. Meetings of interesting organizations go unattended, simple surveys unfilled, because I'm just used to the way I've settled into things, because Grey's Anatomy is on and I don't want to miss it. It's a ridiculous and infuriating tendency in me, this love of sitting back and relaxing. Life would be better if I were always on my toes, at the edge of my seat. When I was finishing college, I realized that though it might seem on paper that my hand was always in something or other (metaphorically, not literally), I really didn't do nearly as much as I could have or should have or might have.

Because of that realization, and because I don't want to have regrets when I graduate from medical school, I'm trying to live with the concept of doing more than you think you can. Like Imogen Heap sings in Tidal, I want to "do it for all the times we wished we had." And that means stretch myself academically, extra-curricularly, socially, and with new experiences. I've been doing all right so far, and it was especially easy to stretch myself out of some comfort zones while medical school was still new and fresh and I hadn't yet settled into a routine, but I'm finding myself edging towards that dangerous complacency now, and I want to avoid it.

Also like an ostrich with its head in the sand, I can be completely clueless sometimes. Case in point: this evening around 9:30 I realized that I had failed to attend the FIRST SESSION of an elective this afternoon. I was really excited about this elective, too: Art of the Human Body at the Museum of Fine Arts. But instead of going to it like a responsible student, I completely. Forgot. Instead, I took a two-hour nap this afternoon (glorious, but not exactly productive), studied some, cooked a tiny bit, and watched two premieres of two shows. I'm not saying it wasn't a good day overall. I'm just saying I need to get my head out of the sand (or my ass, or my routine) and take a look around every once in a while, because I miss important things when I get this way.