Confessions of an Intern

Week Thirty-one

This is very unusual for me, but I am not liking inpatient medicine right now. I think several of us interns have hit the wall. We sat around a table towards the end of the week, each of us lamenting our fatigue, our feelings in incompetence, unpreparedness and inadequacy. Each of us had reached the point of tears, nearly on a daily basis.

I've had three "rocks" for patients. That does not mean they are bad patients, they just aren't going anywhere. They are really sick and just not getting well enough to go home. Two of them ended up having multiple surgeries, for different reasons. I watched as they suffered pain, had fevers and was sure to be at their side to answer questions when things weren't going well. One morning this week, they both needed to return to the OR. They both were not feeling secure, both felt as if death was not far from them. I was lead to lay a gentle hand upon the first and said a prayer for protection, direction for the surgeons, healing for the body and peace. The next patient I saw with my attending, just a short while later. He did the same and I prayed quietly beside him. We do not work at a faith-based hospital; spirituality is something we are trained to "tolerate" among our patients, but are encouraged not to share. But...in that moment, the peace offered and received by those two hurting, scared people was worth more than anything I've learned so far.

One of them I feel has made MANY bad choices leading to the state he is in. The other has done everything she could to get and stay healthy. He will likely recover and go on to cause a bit more trouble in this life. I am fearful for her, as she may have a cancer. The unfairness of it all has settled heavily on my heart like a lead yoke. My spirit is dampened and I feel the doldrums of despair knocking on my door.