Time, I realize now, is relative. I wonder if anyone's thought of that before.
It's already/ just been 3 months since the start of residency, and I'm finding it harder now to get a sense of perspective. The days and nights merge into each other with such fluidity; my circadian rhythm has finally put in its notice, after putting up a brave fight for a month. The canteen menu may change daily, but manages to cleverly maintain the same taste in all its servings. The nurses' shifts go on like clockwork, but all that means is that, every few hours, there's a new face telling you to put IV lines, or informing you that a patient of yours is gasping, or infact has stopped gasping. And will the doctor please come fast, because the relatives of the patient are tearing down walls, and creating a ruckus.
And that's when we come to.. The Relatives..! They're everywhere. Next to the patient's bed, on the bed, under the bed. Outside your room, waiting for you to come out; or inside, waiting for you to walk in. Hiding behind pillars, chasing you in the corridors, jumping you around corners..
And then follows the questions. A hundred million of them. Ranging from the sensible to the downright retarded. And when that ratio for the day gets skewed in favour of retarded, that's when you start to lose your peace. And its upto you to come up with a hundred million ways of saying - Look, you're patient's ill, you're not in a magic hospital, and we're all trying our best to save lives. Now if you'll excuse me..
Life in the wards is fun, for the most part. Once you get past the lack of sleep and the over-worked stress, you do get to see an incredible variety of patients, with some amazing cases popping up here and there. And that's where all the learning lies. Of course, I'm still not fully set with the routine, but hopefully I will be soon, because there's experience to be gained in this place, which is too good to miss out on.
Emergency days are the highlight days of the week, on which depends your lifestyle for the upcoming 7 days. A unit with a heavy emergency (usually defined as patient admissions of more than 20-30) is universally sympathized, and secret relief also felt that it's not for you. A big board hangs in every ward, keeping count of the patients in each unit; and a smiley face decorates the unit with the least patients, and a sad face for the one with the maximum. This symbolism was started 2 days ago, by yours truly, as an exercise in communication. A houseman with 40 new admissions deserves to let the world know what he feels about it.
In the meantime, friends,movies, and morbid ward humor keeps everything going. And having a cool registrar (who actually approves of my blog!) doesn't hurt.
Ciao.
It's already/ just been 3 months since the start of residency, and I'm finding it harder now to get a sense of perspective. The days and nights merge into each other with such fluidity; my circadian rhythm has finally put in its notice, after putting up a brave fight for a month. The canteen menu may change daily, but manages to cleverly maintain the same taste in all its servings. The nurses' shifts go on like clockwork, but all that means is that, every few hours, there's a new face telling you to put IV lines, or informing you that a patient of yours is gasping, or infact has stopped gasping. And will the doctor please come fast, because the relatives of the patient are tearing down walls, and creating a ruckus.
And that's when we come to.. The Relatives..! They're everywhere. Next to the patient's bed, on the bed, under the bed. Outside your room, waiting for you to come out; or inside, waiting for you to walk in. Hiding behind pillars, chasing you in the corridors, jumping you around corners..
And then follows the questions. A hundred million of them. Ranging from the sensible to the downright retarded. And when that ratio for the day gets skewed in favour of retarded, that's when you start to lose your peace. And its upto you to come up with a hundred million ways of saying - Look, you're patient's ill, you're not in a magic hospital, and we're all trying our best to save lives. Now if you'll excuse me..
Life in the wards is fun, for the most part. Once you get past the lack of sleep and the over-worked stress, you do get to see an incredible variety of patients, with some amazing cases popping up here and there. And that's where all the learning lies. Of course, I'm still not fully set with the routine, but hopefully I will be soon, because there's experience to be gained in this place, which is too good to miss out on.
Emergency days are the highlight days of the week, on which depends your lifestyle for the upcoming 7 days. A unit with a heavy emergency (usually defined as patient admissions of more than 20-30) is universally sympathized, and secret relief also felt that it's not for you. A big board hangs in every ward, keeping count of the patients in each unit; and a smiley face decorates the unit with the least patients, and a sad face for the one with the maximum. This symbolism was started 2 days ago, by yours truly, as an exercise in communication. A houseman with 40 new admissions deserves to let the world know what he feels about it.
In the meantime, friends,movies, and morbid ward humor keeps everything going. And having a cool registrar (who actually approves of my blog!) doesn't hurt.
Ciao.
1 comment:
Truly said
But now if u can blog for thousands of way u discovered during your housemanship that may help jrs
To stay away from stress.
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