On Stockholm and Eighty Hour Weeks

In 1973 a group of people were taken hostage in Stockholm, Sweden. They were captive for six days, and at the end of it, they were actually defending their captors. This phenomenon - the victim identifying with their victimizer - has come to be known as "Stockholm Syndrome."

Today was my last day in the NICU... and it seems that for all intents and purposes, I may just as well have been holed up in a bank in Stockholm. Because, despite the torture and the long hours and the frustration - I had a hard time leaving! I never thought I'd feel that way. The NICU is a small microcosm of the world - and I have basically lived there for the past month. Or been held captive, depending on your point of view.

In all, I ended up working 299.5 hours these past four weeks - 89 of those hours within the last seven days. That averages out to almost 75 hours a week. Which means that I could have legally worked another 20.5 hours this past month.

And... I almost wish I had. I'm not referring to Stockholm Syndrome here, either (okay, maybe I am) - I just mean that I missed 20 hours worth of learning. I've always been in favor of the Eighty Hour Work Week for residents. I think it is dangerous to the welfare of others - patients, family members, spouses, pedestrians, grocery store cashiers, etc. for residents to work much more than that.

But, had I not worked 74 (point eight-seven-five) hours a week in the NICU, there is no way that I could be feeling any semblence of competence in managing NICU babies. Not that I'm an expert by any stretch of the imagination. (excuse me while I laugh uproariously at the thought!) I figure that my almost three hundred hours expanded my knowledge base by almost three hundred percent.

But since I started with a NICU knowledge base of about 0.01%, that means I know about, oh... 3% of neonatology.

So, anyway. In the end, after some stressful days, some restless nights, and several of rambly, rant-y blogs, the NICU actually ended up being a lot of fun. Though I haven't actually described any of the fun parts here...

Maybe that's part of the Stockholm Syndrome.