Confessions of an Intern

Week Seventeen

The first week back on inpatient service will always be exhausting...No matter how much you like it. I can't sleep the night before, and I'm exhausted at the end of the day. I like the challenge of being on inpatient service, because I really get to push myself and delve into what I know and don't know. This week pushed me because I had to juggle a patient load that included some folks that only needed to be seen on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the weekends. It was also the first week of twelve days in a row. These are days where I work maybe fourteen hours a day on some days. We all had to take our first exam of residency--the in training exam. I did not have any time to study, it apparently measures where we are in our clinical education in comparison with all the other family medicine residents at the same time.

Patient care seemed to take a backseat to all of the silly little things we had to do last week. On Monday, we had our Seminar, where we discussed changes in our curriculum (all students out there will understand how nerve wracking that can be when you don't know what to expect in the future from a program you are currently in). Tuesday is my clinic day. I had to 'fire' one of my first patients I ever met in residency. Well, not completely, but I had to break a narcotic contract with them. They just couldn't follow the rules. Tested positive for illegal drugs, and used up all his prescribed meds early...He broke all the rules, more than once. I really feel for this guy though. I hope I can continue to work with him to try to get him straightened out, he needs someone to believe in him. Wednesday, I was on 'short call', working from 6 am to 7 pm. This is short? you may ask, but compared to what residents did up until last year working from 6 am until noon the next day...I'll take it. Thursday was the infernal exam...I think I did ok. Then came in to do 'short call' again. I worked a normal shift until 5 on Friday, when I was getting surprise company from out of town. My mom, my 87 year old grandfather and my baby brother were coming to town. Talk about stress. My oldest son celebrated his 14th birthday on Saturday, and of course on the weekend, I worked both days. On the weekend we split our patients between two of us that are on duty, seeing up to ten people each. We were lucky, we only had to split 15. My supervising resident was a gem and let me go home as soon as I was all done, so I could spend time with my family. As glad as I am that I was able to do it, the visit lived up to my less than stellar expectations. I wish more than anything with the limited time I have to spend with people, that it could all be positive. My mom and I love each other, but really don't see eye to eye.

My mom tends to fixate on things and be a bit...shall we say dramatic while trying to be the victim. I could list ten different psych diagnoses for her, but I won't. I'll save that for another time. Anyway, we did what we usually do: she talked about where we were going to eat for two hours, and what all the problems were with every option I suggested. Mind you, it was my son's birthday. All he wanted was Chinese. She tried to send my baby brother to get carryout...but he doesn't live here, and we wanted to go out. Long story short, I went to the grocery store and picked up freezer case Chinese food and cooked it myself...This after three hours of conversation. My mother ended it by pouting and saying we could all go out, and she would stay in. Really?

The drama that seems to be the undercurrent during her visits always exhausts me. She still has not told me she is proud of my achievement. I didn't even get a graduation card from her. I guess it still bugs me...*shrug*