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Category: work

06/20/08 10:54 - ID#44727

new coat

Well, it looks like it's official...


And my first case in official chief capacity last night- a guy that slit his own throat, and cut about 90% of the way THROUGH his trachea. like just a little sliver holding it together in the back. Twice. His roommate just found him, totally alert and awake, bleeding in the shower. (at the psych center, not surprisingly.)


He's ok though. But it's too early to know if he fucked up his vocal cords or anything.
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Permalink: new_coat.html
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Category: work

04/19/07 10:16 - ID#38965


Must say, I don't really understand the point of this. It takes twice as long and I'm sure is much more difficult, all to avoid 3 <1cm scars?

Here's a teaser quote:
"Doctors in New York have removed a woman's gallbladder with instruments passed through her vagina."
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Permalink: cripes_.html
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Category: work

04/19/07 12:58 - ID#38957

Oh, the things we become immune to...

So, except that I am getting a cold and was sniffly, call was positively lovely last night. I slept from like 11 to 6, which is more than I sleep at home. Then we had a leisurely greasy omelette breakfast on the way out. And now I have all of today to do whatever I want, and it's beautiful out.

So I got home, and found this image sitting on my desktop- leftover from my presentation. Sitting there with some cute pix from st. patrick's day, a "sample activity schedule" PDF from, was "anatomy_of_the_anus.jpg". Ahh, my glamorous life. ;)

But for the hell of it I'll also put up a few st pat's pictures and some cute face paintings.


(lovely, no?)

Me and my friend.
Me and my-friend's-boyfriend's-boss - who knows why we were asked to pose together. Random!


p.s. T-10 days!

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Permalink: Oh_the_things_we_become_immune_to_.html
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Category: work

01/10/07 04:17 - ID#37628


Ok, so some of you have heard me talk about this. And lest you thought I was lying...

I was checking the OR schedule online, so I have an idea of what I might be doing at work tomorrow, and look what I found-


On a 21yo.


I've only heard about that. Never seen it done, never even been aware of it being done in any hospital I've been at. So here we go.
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Permalink: Gross.html
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Category: work

08/02/06 06:19 - ID#23917

I'm so going to hell.

I am having a really hard time not swearing and making jack-off gestures in front of my Mormon intern.

Usually I don't care. I have a mouth like a sailor, and it doesn't bother me, and I just assume it doesn't bother others either. I guess I think everyone swears like I do. But maybe I'm a little on the crude side...

And I'm not really one to censor myself for others... but I'm working with this Mormon now... And he's just a nice, wholesome, mild-mannered, family man. But he's also my intern and i'm his 'boss'. Which means he is the first-line defense "against" the monkeys in the ER etc that want to reach surgery. I.e. they have to go through him first, and if he can't handle it he calls me for help/backup.

But he's only a few weeks into internship, and I remember how scary that first year is... You want to be strong and independent and not have to ask for help, but you also don't want to make a mistake... it can be a fine line. so if I'm in the same room when he gets paged, I'll eavesdrop when he answers and help out if need be.

But he is not yet the cynic that I am. He is very polite and nice to everyone- to their face, and behind their backs. I am very nice and polite to them to their face and on the phone, but as soon as they leave, I guess I have a tendency to rip into them. Only if they deserve it of course... (which they usually do. haha)

And the contrast between us is a little obvious sometimes, oops.

Like just before I could hear him on the phone "hi, this is Dr X from surgery, I was paged? yes how can I help you... yup... uh-huh... ok... oh he's got one stitch left in from a week ago and you don't know how to take it out? yeah sure... we'll check it out... no problem... thanks"

All the while I am sitting here rolling my eyes and making crude gestures at the person on the other end of the phone thinking "oh my god these jackasses... why the fuck are they bothering us with this nonsense they can't figure out how to take out a fucking stitch?..." etc.

Ok so I'm exaggerating for the sake of this post, but still... point is I guess I could be nicer. And Mormon boy made me realize maybe I should be a little more polite sometimes.

Or not. Fuck 'em. :P

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Permalink: I_m_so_going_to_hell_.html
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Category: work

06/02/06 09:50 - ID#23867

Breaks my heart...

So I just went to check on a patient. Frankly, the guy freaks me out a little. He's like a homeless Hep C positive crack addict with scary eyes who probably hadn't eaten in two weeks... So I try to check on him without waking him up. So I was just tiptoeing out of the room, when this sweet little old man peeked in the door... He was this mild mannered little old guy, a little hunched over, in a cute little blazer... and he said "i'm from pastoral care... I hope i'm not interrupting... oh I'll come back later!" and I said no not at all, go right ahead. And I walked out as he walked in. And I heard him say to my delightful patient "Hi I'm Mr. Jones from Pastoral Care... Would you like to take communion this morning?" and Mr. Scary just sort of snarled at him like "don't come near my food". Such different worlds... but somehow it just made me sad that this cute little old man is trying to do something nice in the hospital, and nearly gets his head ripped off.

And last week I had some 70-something year old guy who had just found out he has lung cancer that has spread to his brain. They'd already done brain surgery, and he came to us to have lung surgery. And something about it just struck a chord. This old man, sitting there naked on the edge of the OR table, with his saggy old man boobs, waiting for his epidural... I almost cried. He seemed pretty resigned to everything, but all I could think was how terrified he must be. (fortunately the surgery went fine and he did well and went home shortly thereafter).

So these things nearly make me cry, but it doesn't really bother me to tell someone we have to amputate their leg. What is my problem...

And of course today is the one day this week that i have a case to do. When is my case? 3pm today. That is if it goes on time, which nothing ever does. And of course this is the one day I'm trying to leave early, since I'm supposed to leave for rochester at 5 (and need to go home to shower/change first) for a graduation/going away party for a friend. Fucking great, I probably won't be able to go. :(
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Permalink: Breaks_my_heart_.html
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Category: work

03/10/06 08:28 - ID#23809

Lone Star (warning- kinda gross.)

Ok, so i've been lamenting the fact that Boy I Like, Boy Who Likes Me, and Boy Who Is Not Off-Limits cannot all be same person. And it's totally bumming me out. Everything is always way too complicated...
But then at work today things were put into perspective a little...

Kids, be glad you do not have Hirschsprung's Disease. It is a disease where you colon doesn't have enough nerve cells, so basically you can't shit, and it all just builds up forever. To the point that you have to have your colon removed. (usually as a baby.)

Now, after you take out someone's colon, the shit has to go somewhere, right? Well there are pretty much two options. 1: an ostomy. But shitting in a bag isn't always so socially acceptable. Especially as a kid/teenager. 2: sewing the small intestine to the anus.

We just did the latter on a baby. Well she had an ostomy for a year, and today we took the ostomy down and did the "pull-through".

But to get to the point of this story... as you can imagine, it is kind of hard to sew something to a puckered up little asshole. So some sadistic fuck invented a retractor called the Lone Star. (sick pun, no?) Basically it's like an 8" ring with notches around the edges. And then there are the other parts. Basically SHARP little hooks attached to rubber bands. And you put the SHARP HOOKS in the asshole, and then hook the rubber bands into the notches, in 8 different spots around in a circle, effectively stretched this poor little baby's asshole to about 1.5" wide.

But i must say, it worked brilliantly, and the operation went without a hitch, and now she won't have to shit in a bag anymore. And if we're lucky, she'll even have control of her sphincter tone and won't just shit herself all the time.

Isn't my job great.... ;)

Ok, time for green curry, wine, tv, and some soul-searching... Hopefully not too much crying...


But before I go (since I'm sure you were all holding your breath)- my cupid results.

not sure if i like this, but sadly it's probably fairly accurate-
(but nonetheless I think I will go change my answers to get something I like more.) (but (e:Twisted), at least I'm in good company. You're the closest to me I've seen...)

The Sonnet
Deliberate Gentle Love Dreamer (DGLDf)

Romantic, hopeful, and composed. You are the Sonnet. Get it? Composed?

Sonnets want Love and have high ideals about it. They're conscientious people, caring & careful. You yourself have deep convictions, and you devote a lot of thought to romance and what it should be. This will frighten away most potential mates, but that's okay, because you're very choosy with your affections anyway. You'd absolutely refuse to date someone dumber than you, for instance.

Your exact opposite:
Genghis Khunt

Random Brutal Sex Master
Lovers who share your idealized perspective, or who are at least willing to totally throw themselves into a relationship, will be very, very happy with you. And you with them. You're already selfless and compassionate, and with the right partner, there's no doubt you can be sensual, even adventurously so.

You probably have lots of female friends, and they have a special soft spot for you. Babies do, too, at the tippy-top of their baby skulls.

ALWAYS AVOID: The 5-Night Stand, The False Messiah, The Hornivore, The Last Man on Earth

CONSIDER: The Loverboy
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Permalink: Lone_Star_warning_kinda_gross_.html
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Category: work

01/18/06 10:46 - ID#23767


Well, it seems the ante has been upped.

So... Work is still tiring. And long and hard (unlike other parts of my life- har har). Today I did 8 operations. Some lifesaving, some not. But I got out at a reasonable hour. Came home, indulged in some chocolate, had a nice long chat with girlfriends... Watched lost... ahh, simple pleasures. Again I didn't study, which is contributing to my guilt-ulcer, but eh, I'll deal with that later.

But so operating today, plus my current drama, plus girl chat, plus talk of stripclubs got me thinking...
about what? What else do girls talk about. penises. duh.

Guys- just so you know, if you are in any significant (or sometimes insignificant) trauma and are taken to ECMC (or anywhere for that matter)- there is a very high chance you will have your clothes cut off. All of them. And a pretty good chance you will have a foley (urinary) catheter placed. Into your bladder, via your penis. This is a routine, minor task, often delegated the med student. In front of a few nurses and maybe even female surgical residents like yours truly. But the rectal exam is too advanced for students, so I get that job. So while I am of course the consummate professional, I usually have to check out your package. And for the record- what they say about black guys is true, in general.

But so the boring-routine-workday part of the story...
We (surgeons) fix hernias. A lot of them. Every day. Umbilical hernias, incisional hernias, and mostly inguinal (groin) hernias. Obviously to do this we have to expose your groin. And we have to make sure it's not just clean, but sterile. [which brings me to a random tangent PSA- please clean out your bellybutton lint before elective laparascopic surgery, or else we will have to.] So after you are put to sleep, we will take your gown off. And then we will scrub the whole area with betadine. then we cover most of you back up, except a little sterile square where we will work. Then we go about our business and fix your hernia. When we are done, we clean up our mess. Which includes scrubbing off the excess betadine. Now like I said, you are asleep through this. And we are professionals and do it day in and day out.
But as the most junior person in the OR (usually), I end up with the clean-up task.
And i swear, every time the moment comes that I have your dick in one hand, holding it up out of the way, scrubbing the betadine off your balls- you wake up.
The guy always wakes up with me scrubbing his junk. Lovely. Maybe it's just the cold water that does it, but I think the anesthesiologists just like to embarrass me and time it that way on purpose. Fortunately the amnesiac effect lasts a little longer, and I don't think you remember this. I can only remember a guy getting hard on me once. Not sure if that's a commentary on the anesthesia, or how I look in scrubs and a mask.

But once I did a varicose vein case- and the guy didn't want general anesthesia. Fine, reasonable choice. But that means he's pretty awake. And we had to prep his ENTIRE leg with betadine. Up into his groin. Again, the job falls to me. start with his foot, calf, knee, all fine. But eventually i have to move higher- and I end up with his foot on my shoulder, while I scrub his crotch, while he is awake. All I could think was "poor guy, bet you wish you were asleep now."

And how perfect- as I typed that the Ying Yang twins came on. "wait'll you see my dick. beat the puss up, beat the puss up."

I don't have anything to add about the ex today. It still all sucks. Nuff said.
But haha, the song switched and now I have SNZ- "when you lose the one you love, there's always plenty more!" I think it's a sign.

I don't really have anything political to contribute either.
Well here's something- Ray Nagin (mayor of new orleans) is a jackass for this "chocolate city" crap, and then trying to backpedal and say "well how do you make chocolate? dark chocolate plus white milk! that's what I meant". dumb-ass.

And I haven't bought any custom or designer clothes in a long time. Though I did find a fantastic grey silk strapless dress over christmas. It's hot. I just need somewhere to wear it.

But the bottom line is- I post because it feels good to write. I don't consider myself a writer, and while I have been accused of having a wit, I don't really try to be entertaining. I write for me. And if people like reading it, well then great. But if you don't like it, if I'm too boring, it won't break my heart if you pass me by...

G'night peeps!
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Permalink: Penises_.html
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