work

owwwwwwww.

ow.

and sometimes the end of a shift leaves me feeling unfulfilled.

1. i bought a pedometer to see how far i actually walk at work. in the leisurely first two hours of the shift i had walked 2.5 miles. after that i was excited to see how much more it would be at the end of the night. i suppose that's what i get; the night was busy, busy, busy, and i did not get to rest or sleep. at the end of the shift i checked my pedometer reading. it said 0.96 km. i am so disappointed because that is so wrong on multiple levels, the wrongest being that i was on my feet all night long walking and going up and down stairs and when not walking, standing, and i did not get the gratification i had planned on getting from knowing how much distance that actually was because my stupid pedometer reset itself right at the end of the sixteen-hour shift. it had to be a lot of distance. this would explain why my body hurts all over the day after a long shift, and why i am in pain now.

2. i needled a pneumothorax on a baby. i cannot begin to tell you how psychologically unpleasant this task was for me. even though it is a small needle and i gave pain medication to the baby first, i cannot justify in my mind treating a baby like a pincushion with seemingly random poking of needles (as opposed to trying to draw blood or start an iv). a lumbar puncture bothers me less. i don't know why. probably because this particular baby had been through a lot already what with my intubating him and all. and since it yielded only 5 cc's of air i do not feel a sense of accomplishment after having done it.

3. i hate telling parents "something is wrong with your baby." hate it. haaaaaaate it. but i have to. and then they cryyyyyyyy, because they are scared and sleep-deprived and hormonal. what is even worse is telling parents something is wrong with their baby but but we don't know what it is. like the baby last night who kept on turning blue. we can have our suspicions (it's called a differential diagnosis) but that is not satisfactory either to me or to families. i want an answer, so i can make a plan and make it happen. that is supposed to be my job.

4. i pronounced a baby dead. i've never had to do that before. not that babies haven't died, but it's never been my job. the baby was extremely premature and was born four and a half months before the due date. this is considered "pre-viable." he was a boy. he did not cry or move or even breathe after being born. his heart beat for two hours despite this. he pooped and peed a little. at this gestational age this patient could be called a fetus or a baby. both would be correct. he had fetal physical features and also did things that babies do. this is because fetuses are babies. anyone who denies that should come see for themseleves. they can gasp, and cry, and move their arms and legs, and use the bathroom (which, if you think about it, is a large percentage of what term babies do). once born, if they survive birth, they are alive, and then they die.

once again my mind returns to the man at that party who said being a pediatrician must be fun and easy and you probably don't have to do much, because babies are so simple, how much could you have to do?

i maintain that he is an idiot.