One Day More
I have stolen a small bit of my time on-call this beautiful 63F Saturday to blog about a moment fresh in my mind. This morning, I was walking to the hospital at 5:30AM, when it was still 36F and before the sun even thought about rising. I was happily thinking that today is my last call day. (That's right, it's finally my last call day, not just for surgery but for third year!) Unexpectedly, I starting to sing a song in my head.
"One day more! Another day, another destiny. This never-ending road to Calvary."
"Really?" I thought to myself. "Is this day that momentous, requiring so dramatic a song to pop into my head as the one sung in Les Miserables before the French Revolution?" (And why do I know all the lyrics to this epic song? I can't remember risk factors for certain surgical diseases after being on a surgery clerkship for 10 weeks now, but I can remember the lyrics and tune of a song I haven't heard in years.) Even with this sort of perspective, I still couldn't help but keep singing the song in my head.
"Tomorrow we'll be far away. Tomorrow is the judgement day. Tomorrow we'll discover what our God in Heaven has in store! One more dawn! One more day! One day more!"
By the end of the song in my head, I had gotten so into it that I was on a march towards the hospital. I was ready to grab the call day by the cahones, ready to start a revolution. This was it. This IS it.
But after rounding with the team for 5 hours before jumping into a long consult, I realized I wasn't really that close to the end; surgery managed to beat down my spirit, again. I still have a full 8 days of being in the OR for surgery, a day for the dreaded shelf exam, and another day for an oral exam. And I have a summer full of clinical coursework, including a sub-I that will include many a call night. So really, not even close.
But tomorrow morning, when I walk out of hospital having spent my last night in the hospital for all of surgery, for all of third year, and if my sub-I has a nightfloat system, for all of medical school, I will feel an incredible sense of accomplishment and a relief that I've made it through third year (most of it). I won't care that I still have a way to go. I'll just be exhausted and happily marching home victoriously to the tune of Jean Valjean.
Addendum: Just got out of call night after 27 hours up. Tough hand to be dealt on the last one, and truth be told I was angry on the walk home. But now that I'm in my PJs sitting in my sunny living room, I realize that overnight call is over, finally over. Can't get me now, call.
"One day more! Another day, another destiny. This never-ending road to Calvary."
"Really?" I thought to myself. "Is this day that momentous, requiring so dramatic a song to pop into my head as the one sung in Les Miserables before the French Revolution?" (And why do I know all the lyrics to this epic song? I can't remember risk factors for certain surgical diseases after being on a surgery clerkship for 10 weeks now, but I can remember the lyrics and tune of a song I haven't heard in years.) Even with this sort of perspective, I still couldn't help but keep singing the song in my head.
"Tomorrow we'll be far away. Tomorrow is the judgement day. Tomorrow we'll discover what our God in Heaven has in store! One more dawn! One more day! One day more!"
By the end of the song in my head, I had gotten so into it that I was on a march towards the hospital. I was ready to grab the call day by the cahones, ready to start a revolution. This was it. This IS it.
But after rounding with the team for 5 hours before jumping into a long consult, I realized I wasn't really that close to the end; surgery managed to beat down my spirit, again. I still have a full 8 days of being in the OR for surgery, a day for the dreaded shelf exam, and another day for an oral exam. And I have a summer full of clinical coursework, including a sub-I that will include many a call night. So really, not even close.
But tomorrow morning, when I walk out of hospital having spent my last night in the hospital for all of surgery, for all of third year, and if my sub-I has a nightfloat system, for all of medical school, I will feel an incredible sense of accomplishment and a relief that I've made it through third year (most of it). I won't care that I still have a way to go. I'll just be exhausted and happily marching home victoriously to the tune of Jean Valjean.
Addendum: Just got out of call night after 27 hours up. Tough hand to be dealt on the last one, and truth be told I was angry on the walk home. But now that I'm in my PJs sitting in my sunny living room, I realize that overnight call is over, finally over. Can't get me now, call.
posted by Christina at 1:41 PM
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