Grumble, grumble, grumble

Have I told you yet that I hate ORTHO. Ugghh. First off I'm Q2 this week. For those not in the know that means that I am on call from 6 am Monday until noon on Tuesday then 5:30 am on Wednesday until noon on Thursday. I have no life outside of the hospital. Just a mind numbing blur between sleep and the hospital. And if I'm real lucky, sleep in the hospital. Except I find that trauma has a distinct prediliction for happening late at night when normal people are sleeping. This is not to say that some idiot can't get drunk and run you over at eight in the morning, it's just that if I was a betting woman I would definitly bet on midnight.
Add to that I have sent my family away this week so they can spend time with people who will actually be awake and interactive. My eleven month old daughter and my husband went to visit the grandparents and though I thought it would be no problem I find that I miss them terribly. They remind me that there is a world out there aside from the hospital. One where I am loved and needed. So aside from the cats, it's all me this week. Sighhhhh.
I hate medicine somedays, mostly because I don't feel like I'm actually doing medicine right now. My day goes something like this. " Yes sir, it's broken. Your going to need surgery", or "Yes it's broken, you need a cast.", or "No its not broken, you'll be fine". Exciting isn't it.

Grumble, grumble, grumble.

Ortho Hell

Well, I'm on Ortho now and am in the seventh circle of intern hell. Nothing I ever do is right and for the most part my goal at the end of the day is to try and psych myself up for yet another shitty day.This rotation is just re-enforcing what I've always known. I hate surgery. It's not just the actually surgery itself ( oh let's see how long we can stand on our feet without eating and peeing), it the whole lifestyle of surgery. The hours are such that I haven't seen daylight in at least a week. That and I have two weeks worth of laundry piled to the sky in my room. Thank god for the Costco sized pack of underwear I picked up recently. Plus, Surgeons are among the most arrogant people on the face of the earth. It's like living in a medical version of Hell's Kitchen with Simon Cowell playing my chief resident. Seriously, I am just not as facinated as they are with their own greatness. And I have yet to learn anything remotely related to orthopedics.

There are only a few ways to actually survive this rotation.
1. Hide out on the pediatrics floor. Although I am accessible by pager for the most part the seniors find it too much work to call me.
2. Be completley incompetent. "Oh, you were serious when you said no food before surgery"
3. Pretend that I have been wisked away to a prison work camp. Spend any free time planning my escape.

For the most part am I trying option number one and I am now considered the fourth Peds intern. At least it beats being on Ortho