Tomorrow marks my SIX year anniversary at my job! That is cuh-ray-zee. For those of you who haven't gone through as many years of school and training as I have, being in one location for six years by the time you're 37 is probably pretty... underwhelming. But for me, it is pretty monumental. This marks the most time I have spent on any one 'chunk' of my life... EVER. A quick review:
5 years of you know, infancy and such, 4 years elementary school in MN, 2 years elementary school in OR, 3 years junior high, 3 years high school, 4 years college, 1 year receptionist, 1 year AmeriCorps VISTA, 4 years medical school, 3 years residency, and 6 years here!
SIX YEARS. That is ...math... 2,191 days, 315,384 hours, and so forth (more math). Granted, I have missed a full year with my two maternity leaves, but I'm just gonna ignore that for now.
In honor of my sixth anniversary, I figured I'd fill you in on A Day in the Life of a Pediatric Hospitalist. Thrilling, no?
6:30 - Wake up. Sometimes this is earlier. Sometimes it is in the middle of the night. Especially when Marian decides that her imaginary friend needs the pink smiley face light turned on in a specific way to make the colors go through a specific rotation. One time, I got up early and worked out. Then Marian started waking up in the middle of the night to force us to cater to the whims of her imaginary friends, and I decided working out at 5 am was WAY overrated. But, 6:30 is the goal. It used to be 5:30 when I got up to pump for the boys. It used to be 5:15 when we lived in Sacramento and I had to commute 1 hour and 45 minutes to work. But, again. 6:30 is awesome. Or 6:35. But no later than that.
I leave for work around 7:15. Isn't that a nice, civilized time? I can't tell you how much I like leaving for work after the sun has risen. I still need lots of coffee, though.
8:00 - Meet with the pediatrician going off service to get 'sign out.' This is when they tell me who the patients are and what is going on with them. I also get the pager from the person going off service. Pager. Remember those? Doctors used to use them, and drug dealers, I guess, and then for about, what? 2 years in the 90s, everyone had pagers. Now it's pretty much just doctors again.
After sign out, I usually head to the opposite side of the hospital to the doctor's lounge to get a second cup of coffee. And maybe a slice of bacon. One of the perks of being an attending is the doctor's lounge. There is a coffee machine, and they serve us breakfast and lunch Monday through Friday. It's pretty much just cafeteria food. Correction: it IS just cafeteria food. But it's free, and even though I have been out of med school and residency for almost as long as I was in, I'm a sucker for a free meal. I think most doctors are. I think that's why pharmaceutical reps have such a hold over some doctors. Not me. I haven't seen a pharm rep since... medical school? Not many medications to push to inpatient pediatricians!
Today, after coffee #2, I went to the scheduled morning c-section. At a c-section, I scrub in, get all gowned and sterile-d up, and then stand there while the OB and the midwife get the baby out. Sometimes I suction things. Sometimes I adjust the overhead light. A lot of the time I wonder why I am scrubbed in at a scheduled c-section. Most of the time, the babies come out kicking and screaming, and I just carry the baby over to the warmer, where I meet the nurse, and we dry and assess the baby. Occasionally, the baby needs a little extra support. If the baby pooped before birth, there is a risk of them breathing the meconium into their lungs, so I'll place an endotracheal tube to suck out their trachea. If the baby doesn't want to breathe, we'll stimulate the baby, and may use a mask and bag to give the baby a few breaths. If the baby's heart rate drops too low, we'll do chest compressions. In my six years here, I've intubated probably 20-30 babies, I've used bag-mask ventilation for too many to count, and I've done chest compressions on maybe 5 or 6. Babies are awesome. They come out with such a strong will to live, we usually don't have to do anything!
After this morning's c section, I rounded on the other healthy newborns. During my rounds, I look at the patient's information on the computer - their vital signs, lab results, notes from the nurses, and their ins and outs (how much they ate, and how much they peed and pooped) Then I go into the rooms, and examine the babies, and chat with the parents. I enjoy this part most of the time. Most parents are sleep deprived, but happy. Most of the babies are just fine. Some get jaundice, some have murmurs, some get broken collar bones, a lot have feeding issues and some have other issues that they were born with. But most babies, again, do just fine.
When I was done seeing babies, I rounded on the patients admitted to Pediatrics. On Pediatrics, we have kids any where from a few days old through 18 years old. During the winter, most of the admissions are for respiratory illnesses - mostly babies with bronchiolitis, a lot of asthma, and some pneumonia. During the summer, we have a lot of stomach flu/dehydration, appendicitis, abscesses and still more asthma. I talk to the nurses about the patients, examine them, talk to the families and make any changes to the plan of care based on how the kid is doing. Kids are great patients, too. They let you know when they are sick, and they get better. We take care of some pretty sick kids at our hospital, but we don't have any pediatric sub-specialists. If a patient needs to see a specialist in person, or if they are getting close to needing to be treated in an ICU, we transfer them down to UCSF Children's Hospital or to Children's Hospital Oakland.
Oh, and of course, I have to document all the things that I did - histories and physicals for new patients, daily notes for ones that stay and discharge summaries for the ones that go home.
I managed to round on all my patients before lunch today. Depending on the day, rounds can take anywhere from 1 hour to 10 hours. Summer months are generally lighter as we typically have only 1-3 kids. In the winter, we can have as many as 10-12 kids, plus the newborns.
Lunch in the doctor's lounge is usually pretty entertaining. We have a lot of older doctors in the hospital, though the average age is getting lower and lower then longer I've been here as more young doctors join the medical group I work for. There is one doctor in particular who sits in the lounge from about 11-2 EVERY day, and sort of holds court. He knows everyone, and is loud and opinionated. Several of my colleagues don't go to the lounge during meal time to avoid some of the craziness. I find it all amusing, though, so I go.
After lunch, I did a circumcision. There are a grand total of two procedures that I do: circumcisions and lumbar punctures. Oh, and I do frenulectomies. And intubations. And sometimes I squeeze abscess so that pus comes out. So, I guess I do a handful of procedures. I like doing procedures, though I am a bit on the fence lately about the appropriateness of doing routine circumcisions on newborn boys. I will say, I do a mean penile block, and 99% of those boys that I do circumcise sleep through the whole procedure.
The rest of the day, I tie up loose ends on the existing patients, re-assess the patients, make new plans, talk to any parents/grandparents/family friends that have questions.
I also have the pager. Ahh, the pager. The pager can and will go off at any point during the day. It is harsh and it makes my soul jump every time I hear it. I don't fear it as much as I did during the first 2 years of the job, when every patient encounter had me convinced that I was going to do something awful and destroy someone's life (I never did). But a call on the pager can be anything, including:
- A nurse with a patient update or question
- The ER with a consult on a pediatric patient
- The transfer center calling to connect me to a doctor from an outside hospital who has a patient they want to admit to us
- Call to go to a delivery for a baby they expect might need help after they're born
- One time, I got paged to a private number. It was a man looking for his wife to tell her he was on his way home from work. That was a wrong number.
- A lot of times, I get paged to three digit or five digit numbers (our extensions have 4 digits). Then it's like a mystery! Who called! I try calling all the numbers it could be until I find who it was. Or I ignore it, and wait for them to page me back. Depends on my mood.
This is where I hang out when I'm not on the Pediatrics floor, the ER, labor and delivery or post partum:
I think it used to be a closet. But, it has everything we need - desk, phone, computer, chair, bed, refrigerator, microwave and TV. No bathroom, though. Oh how I cursed that fact while I was pregnant!
I'm here for 24 hours. Sometimes I get a full night's sleep, sometimes I get 2 hours of sleep. It depends on the time of year, luck, and tidal forces, I guess. And maybe, just maybe, the particular socks that I chose to wear that day. Not that I'm superstitious...
So, that's sums up my day. Pretty glamorous, right? Hmm. Okay, so not super exciting, but I love it. Six years here, and I still am happy to come to work most of the time. I get excited with some of the crazy diagnoses we see, and I love the challenge. I have great interactions with some families. And while I respect, appreciate and like my colleagues, I don't actually see a lot of them - only at the beginning and end of each shift. I work much more closely with the nurses, who are absolutely a highlight of my job.
If you actually read all the way through this, here is your reward: pictures of the kids. They're my other job, that I do the 23 days of the month that I'm not here!
Jul 23, 2015
Jun 18, 2015
Alien Archaeologists and Eyelashes.
There are times when day to day life can seem routine and boring. At times where I am suffering from general ennui, and a lack of creative drive, I ponder the ways in which I am totally and utterly unique.
(And you are, too.)
Think about it: there has never, in the history of the world been another person sitting where you are, wearing the clothes that you are wearing, reading the words that you are reading. And there never will be again. There are 7 billion people on our planet, but you are the ONLY one thinking whatever you are thinking right now. Unless you're thinking how much you like apple pie. Then there are two of us thinking that right now.
I wonder if I ever walk along the exact path that someone else walked before, or if it is possible to find a patch of earth that has never been stepped on before at all.
I wonder if future alien archaeologists could identify one person's DNA, and then trace their life from one area to another to try to piece together their history (I also wonder why they would want to do that)
All of these thoughts are amplified when it is two-freaking-twenty-two in the morning, and you are waiting for lab results to come back so you can decide what to do with a patient in the ER.
Also, I wonder if the patient I just saw has the world's longest eyelashes (they don't)
(And you are, too.)
Think about it: there has never, in the history of the world been another person sitting where you are, wearing the clothes that you are wearing, reading the words that you are reading. And there never will be again. There are 7 billion people on our planet, but you are the ONLY one thinking whatever you are thinking right now. Unless you're thinking how much you like apple pie. Then there are two of us thinking that right now.
I wonder if I ever walk along the exact path that someone else walked before, or if it is possible to find a patch of earth that has never been stepped on before at all.
I wonder if future alien archaeologists could identify one person's DNA, and then trace their life from one area to another to try to piece together their history (I also wonder why they would want to do that)
All of these thoughts are amplified when it is two-freaking-twenty-two in the morning, and you are waiting for lab results to come back so you can decide what to do with a patient in the ER.
Also, I wonder if the patient I just saw has the world's longest eyelashes (they don't)
Jun 12, 2015
Birthday Season
I love birthdays. I always have. I hope that I always will. I want to be the sort of woman who ages gracefully, accepting the gray hairs and laugh lines (okay, wrinkles) as they come. Mostly because I don't want to pay big bucks for fancy skin treatments or go get my hair colored every month. But 'graceful' is much nicer sounding than 'cheap and lazy.'
Anyhow, growing up, we had a 'birthday season' in our house. Starting in November, I had my sister's birthday, my mom's birthday, my other sister's birthday, Christmas, then my dad's birthday. I was the lone spring/summer birthday, all the way out in June. (Funnily enough, both my sisters spouses (or soon-to-be-spouse) have birthdays in that season as well) I enjoyed my singular birthday, but I did feel sort of left out of the 'season.'
Then I got married, and my husband has an April birthday, which totally trashed birthday season. I know, tragic, right? THEN, Marian was born in March, and the boys in May, and I realized - I built my very own Birthday Season! And, since my birthday was two days ago, Birthday Season is officially closed. Let's review, shall we?
March 2nd: Marian turned 3. On March 1st, Marian was 2. She knew what she liked, but could be dealt with in a fairly reasonable fashion, and was relatively easy to manage with some sleight of hand or turn of phrase. March 2nd, she turned 3. Oh my goodness gracious. Some sort of switch flipped in that little girl's head overnight, and she became obstinate, and opinionated and whiny. Oh, so whiny. I can handle the opinionated and demanding stuff. It kinda, sorta fills this mommy's heart with pride to see my daughter demand things her way. But I could do without the whining. As in, I'd like to find a way to permanently disable the part of her larynx that allows that particular frequency of sound to be emitted. Ah, well. She will not be three forever. And there are so many parts of three that are pretty awesome. Hopefully, I'll write more about that later...
Her birthday started like this:
Chocolate croissant and tears. An auspicious beginning.
Once the tears cleared, and we'd weathered another tantrum about the FIRST present she opened, we took our little princess to the nearest thing we have to a castle here in Sonoma County: Ledson Winery. Okay, yes, so we took our three year old to a winery. For her birthday. But we had her first birthday party at a brewery, so at least we're consistent! We sipped some wine, had a picnic and ran around like princesses!
Sticking to the theme, we abandoned all pretenses about her birthday being for her, and went to another winery. I am just now wondering if us taking Marian to wineries on her birthday is the root of all her whining. Whinery? If that's the case, then I need to take her to an anti-whinery. What could that be? A place where they make grapes? Vinegar? I'm going to have to ponder this...
We did have cake in the evening. She wanted a Star Wars Princess theme, so this is what she got:
Rapunzel wiht a light saber.
A few days after Marian's birthday, we had a little party for her. We stuck with the Star Wars Princess theme. (Heavy on the Star Wars) The kids had pool noodle light sabers and got to do some target practice by hitting bubbles. I was pretty proud of my Death Star cake pops. Definitely not professional level, but they were tasty! Someday, I think I could throw a Pinterest-worty party. Maybe. Probably not.
April 2nd: Marc turned 41. When Marc turned 40, I was uber pregnant. I had wanted to throw him some phenomenal type celebration, but my little parasites made that difficult. I figured I would plan something awesome for his 41st, like a "First Anniversary of Your Fortieth Birthday Blow Out Bash!" Well. Yeah. That didn't happen. Turns out having three kids takes a lot of time and energy. Maybe next year...? We did start out with a good breakfast - fewer tears than there were at Marian's birthday breakfast.
I spent an afternoon gathering the supplies for Marc's birthday meal - steak from Thistle Meats, the cake from Bovine Bakery and other ingredients from Petaluma Market. I felt very metropolitan walking around downtown Petaluma with my purchases. Petaluma is a small town, of about 50,000 people (okay 57,941 according to the 2010 census), but there are some pretty fancy places! You should come visit! I'll take you out to dinner! Unless I don't know you. Then, I suppose you should still come visit, but you'll have to fend for yourself for dinner.
We may have recycled Marian's candle for Marc's birthday. Because 4 - 1 = 3. And because I had no other candles. I would have picked some up at the Market, but fancy grocery stores charge a LOT for birthday candles. Doesn't Marian look so sweet helping Marc blow out the candles? That's one of those lovely parts of having a three year old that I mentioned earlier.
A few days after Marc's birthday, we drove to Sacramento for part 2 of his birthday. He went golfing with his buddy. I don't have any pictures of him golfing, but here is the boys playing with a ball:
I do have a picture he took while golfing. It appears to be a turkey. I don't think the turkey was invited, but turkeys are pretty rude like that. I hear. Marian helped Marc blow out the candles on another cake, again looking so sweet. Marian, not the cake. Actually, Marian AND the cake. The boys ended up their evening by getting their first taste of pizza! They weren't too sure what to make of it. Fear not, I am sure they will learn to love it. Because, I mean. Pizza.
Birthday season continues in May, for the boys' first birthday! I think this post is long enough for now, though, so I will have to write about their birthday (and mine) later!
Anyhow, growing up, we had a 'birthday season' in our house. Starting in November, I had my sister's birthday, my mom's birthday, my other sister's birthday, Christmas, then my dad's birthday. I was the lone spring/summer birthday, all the way out in June. (Funnily enough, both my sisters spouses (or soon-to-be-spouse) have birthdays in that season as well) I enjoyed my singular birthday, but I did feel sort of left out of the 'season.'
Then I got married, and my husband has an April birthday, which totally trashed birthday season. I know, tragic, right? THEN, Marian was born in March, and the boys in May, and I realized - I built my very own Birthday Season! And, since my birthday was two days ago, Birthday Season is officially closed. Let's review, shall we?
March 2nd: Marian turned 3. On March 1st, Marian was 2. She knew what she liked, but could be dealt with in a fairly reasonable fashion, and was relatively easy to manage with some sleight of hand or turn of phrase. March 2nd, she turned 3. Oh my goodness gracious. Some sort of switch flipped in that little girl's head overnight, and she became obstinate, and opinionated and whiny. Oh, so whiny. I can handle the opinionated and demanding stuff. It kinda, sorta fills this mommy's heart with pride to see my daughter demand things her way. But I could do without the whining. As in, I'd like to find a way to permanently disable the part of her larynx that allows that particular frequency of sound to be emitted. Ah, well. She will not be three forever. And there are so many parts of three that are pretty awesome. Hopefully, I'll write more about that later...
Her birthday started like this:
Chocolate croissant and tears. An auspicious beginning.
Once the tears cleared, and we'd weathered another tantrum about the FIRST present she opened, we took our little princess to the nearest thing we have to a castle here in Sonoma County: Ledson Winery. Okay, yes, so we took our three year old to a winery. For her birthday. But we had her first birthday party at a brewery, so at least we're consistent! We sipped some wine, had a picnic and ran around like princesses!
Sticking to the theme, we abandoned all pretenses about her birthday being for her, and went to another winery. I am just now wondering if us taking Marian to wineries on her birthday is the root of all her whining. Whinery? If that's the case, then I need to take her to an anti-whinery. What could that be? A place where they make grapes? Vinegar? I'm going to have to ponder this...
We did have cake in the evening. She wanted a Star Wars Princess theme, so this is what she got:
Rapunzel wiht a light saber.
A few days after Marian's birthday, we had a little party for her. We stuck with the Star Wars Princess theme. (Heavy on the Star Wars) The kids had pool noodle light sabers and got to do some target practice by hitting bubbles. I was pretty proud of my Death Star cake pops. Definitely not professional level, but they were tasty! Someday, I think I could throw a Pinterest-worty party. Maybe. Probably not.
April 2nd: Marc turned 41. When Marc turned 40, I was uber pregnant. I had wanted to throw him some phenomenal type celebration, but my little parasites made that difficult. I figured I would plan something awesome for his 41st, like a "First Anniversary of Your Fortieth Birthday Blow Out Bash!" Well. Yeah. That didn't happen. Turns out having three kids takes a lot of time and energy. Maybe next year...? We did start out with a good breakfast - fewer tears than there were at Marian's birthday breakfast.
I spent an afternoon gathering the supplies for Marc's birthday meal - steak from Thistle Meats, the cake from Bovine Bakery and other ingredients from Petaluma Market. I felt very metropolitan walking around downtown Petaluma with my purchases. Petaluma is a small town, of about 50,000 people (okay 57,941 according to the 2010 census), but there are some pretty fancy places! You should come visit! I'll take you out to dinner! Unless I don't know you. Then, I suppose you should still come visit, but you'll have to fend for yourself for dinner.
We may have recycled Marian's candle for Marc's birthday. Because 4 - 1 = 3. And because I had no other candles. I would have picked some up at the Market, but fancy grocery stores charge a LOT for birthday candles. Doesn't Marian look so sweet helping Marc blow out the candles? That's one of those lovely parts of having a three year old that I mentioned earlier.
A few days after Marc's birthday, we drove to Sacramento for part 2 of his birthday. He went golfing with his buddy. I don't have any pictures of him golfing, but here is the boys playing with a ball:
I do have a picture he took while golfing. It appears to be a turkey. I don't think the turkey was invited, but turkeys are pretty rude like that. I hear. Marian helped Marc blow out the candles on another cake, again looking so sweet. Marian, not the cake. Actually, Marian AND the cake. The boys ended up their evening by getting their first taste of pizza! They weren't too sure what to make of it. Fear not, I am sure they will learn to love it. Because, I mean. Pizza.
Birthday season continues in May, for the boys' first birthday! I think this post is long enough for now, though, so I will have to write about their birthday (and mine) later!
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