Drowning
II.II.II
DROWNING
The word busy doesn’t even begin to describe the sheer amount of work one is met with in the neurosurgical department.
I’d go in every single day far earlier than I was expected to in order to do the pre-round, something I’d usually do out of my own volition to speed up the ward round. During this rotation, it was pretty much a necessity, so much so that Jacqueline started joining me. Every day, we’d be on the ward at around 6AM. We’d print the census, chase bloodwork and other investigations, and then start rounding on all the patients before our seniors showed up.
Then we’d do the actual ward round and, in between ward work, pre-ops, and other administrative tasks, we’d run ourselves ragged trying to finish everything off in order to leave on time – something other house officers never managed to do. Add to this the fact that we also had to cover ENT on-call shifts – a specialty we had no experience in whatsoever – and I felt like I’d been thrown into the deep end.
For the very first time in my working career, I started to doubt whether I actually had what it takes to become a neurosurgeon. That said,this had little to do with neurosurgery itself and far more to do with the administrative burden. When it came to the specialty, I only consolidated and reaffirmed how passionate I was about it. My medical knowledge was on point and most of the time our seniors agreed with my management plans. Despite all its flaws, this rotation only proved I was in the right place.
I couldn’t have kept up this positivity without Jacqueline. We became a well-oiled machine that somehow made the impossible possible. Honestly, I couldn’t have picked a better companion for this whole ordeal. With a workload that was simply unmanageable for two junior doctors, teamwork was of utmost importance. And somehow, we made it work.
It was just like working with Emily again – though with Jacqueline I never bonded much outside of hospital and our relationship remained mostly professional. I shuddered to think about what would’ve happened had I been assigned this rotation along with someone like Valentina or Dr Criminal. Bit with Jacqueline things were completely different. We had each other’s backs, and when one of us missed something, the other was there to pick up the slack.
And missing something was an all-too-common possibility. The thing with neurosurgery, though, is that it simply can’t happen. The stakes are too high. One missed step and everything can turn sour. You forget to book a COVID swab for a pre-op and the surgery gets cancelled. You fail to flag a lab result and the ward round grinds to a halt. You forget to book an investigation and the patient suffers for it. And as selfish as it may sound, it all lands on you.
I guess this is the one rotation that taught me that doctors are just human after all. No matter how passionate, ambitious or steadfast as I was, things did start to fall through the crack.
Time and time again, we’d have small slip-ups. Most of them were minor and pretty inconsequential, easily fixed. Be that as it may, I can’t say they didn’t get to me. I was starting to burn out. For the first time ever, I reached a point where I genuinely couldn’t be bothered anymore. As a workaholic who thrives on getting things done under pressure, I have to admit that even I was nearing my breaking point.
Two junior doctors shouldn’t be expected to shoulder such an inhumane workload. It was unsafe for patients and unfair on us. By that point, I’d built a good rapport with my seniors, so I made it a point to share my feedback. They needed more junior doctors if they were to keep the department afloat. Whilst nothing could be done mid-rotation, arrangements did start being made for the ones that followed.