I was completely dreading going to back to clinicals this morning. Mostly because I’m tired from working nights over the weekend, but also because I would really like to be done with this rotation. I feel terrible thinking and writing that because I have one of the nicest attendings ever, the patients are great, I’ve learned a lot, and I’ve solidified a lot of knowledge over the past few weeks. But I can’t help it, or the feeling that I’m really glad I did not end up choosing this specialty.
By the last patient before lunch, after a seemingly endless parade of phlegm, mucous, wheezes, rales, flaming tympanic membranes, beefy tonsils, positive strep/influenza/monospots, and feverish, sweaty, very sick patients, I just wanted to dive into a giant pool of hand sanitizer. (On the plus side, apparently this is unnecessary as after several weeks of close contact with all of the aforementioned and more, I’m not sick yet. I think my immune system has at least reached Pediatrician-like proportions, and it at least, is totally ready to be a doctor.) As my attending auscultated, I had the dizzying sensation that the sterile white walls of the tiny, airless exam room were closing in on me.
The Clinic Claustrophobia has set in. It’s probably from years of being a hospital nurse, but I much prefer the ability to regularly escape clinic for hospital rounds, an OR day, a delivery, or an ER consult. I know many of my cohorts prefer to be in the clinic exclusively. I have no idea why, maybe they find comfort in the routine and small, self-contained setting, but I am very happy that we are all different in that respect. Knock yourselves out guys, you can totally have it.
One more week. And maybe, if I’m lucky, even less than that, assuming that the giant winter storm we’ve been promised hits on schedule (yes, I feel very bad about thinking this too). And after 13 winters in the Middle States, I’ve actually prepared. Instead of dooming myself to fighting the dog for the last, crusty piece of beef jerky and two squares of t.p. I’ve managed to scrounge up and cursing my own willful ignorance, I actually went out and bought Blizzard Supplies. Including beef jerky, t.p., dog food, ramen noodles, two giant bags of M&M’s, a family sized box of Reeses Puffs, and a case of Diet Coke. Which means we will probably just get a slight, friendly, smattering of fluffy snowflakes, the clinic will totally be open, and I will have to go to work. (Again, on the bright side, at least I will have enough beef jerky and t.p. to last me until next winter.)
And that is the end of my Giant Pity Party. I swear.
I know I have the Best Job In The World (totally, unrepentantly biased). I get to try and make other people feel better every day. Sometimes I actually succeed. And that, is the Absolute Best Feeling In The World. No matter where I’m at, or what clinic I’m in. Even on Mundayz……