I got lucky to be on her service because of her attitude and overall personality. She is in many ways the Ghandi of all surgeons. She never yells, screams or throws tantrums. She likes teaching. She never takes her frustration out on others, i've never seen her raise her voice or get frantic. Her version of panic is a furrowed brow and a "well dang it, the patient is fighting me." She is someone who walks into the room subtly without an ego, but everyone eventually notices she's brilliant. Not a genius, just right most of the time. She is someone who I can't help to admire. If i had to describe her in a single word, it would be poise. I would say she is someone I respect and represents true elegance.
You have to remember she was trained when surgeon was still a world of men only. They threw scapels and tantrums and are overly aggressive, brash and sexually inappropriate. She is under incredible amounts of pressure and just lets it wash over her. She is someone who, i would imagine, would smile if she was being yelled at. She has an air of femininity despite this environment. She always wears her hair clipped up in twist on her head. Her hair is thinning but still brown. She wears only a thin line of eyeliner on the top lid and a minimal amount of mascera. She has obvious smiling eye wrinkles and she always wears small dangly earrings. She is in all her elegance, beautiful. She aged gracefully and she has a subtle strength about her. She was told by a patient today "you're too pretty to be a surgeon," and for some reason I thought-- maybe she is. She told me when i asked her about the lifestyle that she knew she had to make a choice: marriage or surgery. And she chose surgery, and not for lack of opportunity of the latter. Talk about impressive commitment.
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I also have to take the time to document my other adventure/realization today. Its sorta embarrassing but I feel I have to share. I almost vomited/fainted today. I scrubbed in on a tracheostomy (the placement of ventilation tube in the trachea above the sternum). It wasn't bloody or a particularly gross surgery. It wasn't even my first surgery. I just noticed very suddenly the smell of the burning flesh when they cauterized the wound, and became very aware of how tight my sterile gloves were. I noticed it was almost unbearably hot in the room and I became horribly nauseous. I looked everywhere else, at the clock, started a convo with the scrub nurse, just anything to push through and make it pass. Then i noticed the edges of my vision getting black and I immediately backed up, just like they taught us. And the nurse said, "i thought you looked pale, take off your gown and get out of the OR." And that's what I did. I ripped off my gown and went out to the scrub room where I hovered over the trash can sure that I was going to solidify my humiliation and puke.Good news is I didn't. And eventually I felt like I could breathe safely again. The residents came out eventually and laughed. He took me to the cafeteria where he bought me some breakfast and told me the story of how he passed out flat on his face during a bone marrow biopsy and they weren't even in the OR. He said it happens to everyone at least once and it doesn't mean anything at all. :) I was very relieved. We spent the rest of the day exchanging stories will all the OR techs, nurses, and surgeons about when they fainted or vomited. It actually turned out to be a pretty cool day.
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