Journal entries from my rotation in emergency surgery:

• • • I’ve been paged for a cannula. I go into the patient’s room and I’m immediately struck by the fresh aroma of cigarettes as I witness the patient in visible respiratory distress. “Were you smoking, by any chance?” I ask. She’s almost offended by my question. I go down on one knee to insert the cannula and see smoke coming up between my legs. “This lit cigarette wouldn’t happen to be yours, by any chance, would it?” She reaffirms that it wasn’t, indeed, hers.

    • I’ve just finished my night shift at 11:30PM and I’m rounding on some patients before I hit the hay. All of them seem to be doing fine, especially the ones whose 6AM parameters have already been filled in by the nurses…

    • At the pre-op clinic once again. Mr Unaware’s here for an elective cholecystectomy. He should be a pretty straightforward case since he’s fifty years old and tells me he’s not on any meds. Seven consultations with seven different specialties later and I’m this close to handing in my resignation. That’ll probably have to wait until after I’m done with my eighth and final consult, though.

    • I’m trying to teach a nursing student how to insert a cannula. I show him the procedure on a makeshift model I made out of swabs and he seems to be getting the hang of it. A couple more attempts and he’s ready for the real deal. A bodybuilder with water hoses for veins is our first volunteer. The student suddenly realises it’s opposite day and disregards my explanation. Guess who’s got two thumbs up and ended up taking care of an unconscious bodybuilder and a sobbing student? This guy!

    • Mr Gnarly Scrotum came in for an inguinoscrotal hernia repair. His guts are literally protruding into his balls. He steps into the office and drops his pants before even saying hello. I’m too busy staring at the bowling ball hanging between his legs to even notice we’ve foregone all pleasantries. “What seems to be the problem?” I ask sarcastically. He sarcastically places his balls on my desk.

    • I’ve been in the clinic doing pre-operative assessments all morning. I pick up my pager to call my senior for some advice and I notice the wallpaper is a photo of this old man. Guess even patients are still using these ancient Alcatel phones, huh?

    • Mrs ATM came in to tell me I’d been her husband’s guardian angel throughout his stay in hospital. She flung a 20-euro bill on my office desk and, after insisting she take it back, she literally fled the hospital. At least I got paid what I actually deserve for once.

    • The nurses at my ward tell me all my patients are doing okay. I guess they either didn’t realise one of them shouldn’t have been leaking faeculent matter from his abdominal drain, or they just thought it was normal.

    • I accidentally prescribed twice the dose of morphine my pancreatic cancer patient needed. The nurses went with it cause they thought she’d fare better on it. It’s the first time in two months I’ve seen her smiling…

    • The nursing officer came to my office to complain about some of her staff not respecting her enough. She started sobbing and asking me what she should do. 

    • It’s the first time I find myself with some free time whilst at work. My friend thought it’d be fun to wheel me around the ward in a wheelchair, all the while bringing some much-needed laughter to staff and patients alike. Mr Moody didn’t quite appreciate it.

    • I was paged to insert an IV cannula on a COVID positive patient. This meant I’d have to don all the necessary personal protective equipment (PPEs), gather all the necessary supplies and head into the negative-pressure room where we keep COVID positive patients. I go through the whole process only to find the guy had two fully-functional cannulae that had just been sited. I carefully remove the by-now sweat-soaked PPEs and step out of the room. “Uhm, sorry, we had no idea!” goes the nurse. I’m slowly realising why there’s this whole doctor-versus-nurses rivalry. Grr.

    • I paged a friend of mine pretending I was a nurse calling about a patient deteriorating because of a mistake she made. Little did I expect she’d burst into the ward crying… Perhaps I should take my pranks down a notch.

    • Today we rounded on the patients three times. First it was with Melissa. She thought our constipated patient would benefit from two glycerine suppositories. Then it was with Zoltan, who changed it to a phosphate enema. Then with Mr Moody, who went back to the suppositories. “So no enema?” I asked innocuously. “WHO THE HELL MENTIONED AN ENEMA? DO YOU THINK YOU’RE THE BOSS NOW? WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’VE BECOME?!” was his response.

    • Ms Torture came in with acute urinary retention. It took me almost half an hour to convince her she needed a urinary catheter if we were to relieve her symptoms. When she was completely on board and the nurses had gathered all the equipment, she signed the discharge against medical advice (DAMA) form. Needless to say, she was back a couple of hours later.

    • For my birthday, my colleagues got me cupcakes with cannulae jammed in them and syringes full of caramel. They really are the best!

    • This patient’s gigantic lipoma – a fat tumour wrapped around his neck – looks exactly like a travel pillow. Would it really be in his best interest to remove it? Comfort over cosmesis… Hmm…

• • • I’ve spent a couple of hours working on this one discharge letter summarising the stay of a patient who’s been here for six months. She underwent a splenectomy and had to receive all kinds of vaccines to prevent certain types of bacterial infections. I did a thorough job highlighting anything of relevance, including some of the complications she’d had and the vaccination schedule she needed to follow. “She came in for a splenectomy – that’s all that matters. We’re surgeons here!” goes Mr Moody as he swiftly crosses out everything below the first couple of lines. It was all I could do not to pull off Sub Zero’s fatality.