Oh, surgery! Every morning when I check the surgery list I'm like a kid in a candy store - eyeing it up and down and trying to decide which ones to see while checking what emergency cases have popped up. The ritual of changing out of the professional wards attire, the dress shirt and pants, and into theater getup, the always ill-fitting scrubs, is like metamorphosis of the caterpillar. The lowly medical student goes into the changing room and emerges as the ever-ready surgeon's assistant, sprinting to the scrub sink at the slightest sideway-glance from the surgeon. Hold up the patient's leg while he's being draped? No problem! Hold back retractors for hours on end until my fingers fall off? Sure! Suction? Slurrrrrp! Cut open that grossly-distended section of resected bowel and examine the consistency of its content? Gladly! Do I want to come in on Saturday to assist on an amputation? You don't have to ask twice!
So it's too bad the rotation is going to end in less than three weeks. It's a pretty hard act to follow, and I'm not sure if mental health rotation that follows is going to do it for me. Sigh...
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Dinner tonight: chicken and potato curry with raita
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