Greetings from the land of OB/GYN, known for its crying babies, its 12+ hour days, and its notoriously unpredictable residents. My first two weeks were spent delivering babies and trying not to talk too much; I think I did a better job making friends with the labor and delivery nurses than anything else. Of note, I mastered the art of holding my breath without letting my eyes give away the fact that I was horrified by what I was about to witness: the combination of sights and smells associated with a laboring woman are not to be taken lightly. In fact, my first day on labor and delivery, gowned and gloved and face-to-face with a crowning head, was enough to make me reconsider motherhood altogether. It's 2010 and surrogacy is the new IVF.
Rounding out my second week I fell into a groove-babies were practically falling from the sky in the middle of the night and I had no choice but to be on high alert. I was practically hearing the word "PUSH!" in Spanish in my sleep. And after learning to ignore the constant eye-rolling of one of my third year residents I have almost started to consider OB/GYN as a career. Almost.
This week has been bursting at the seams with surgical procedures, large and small, and my OR anxiety is slowly improving. However, I still feel slightly out of place thanks to my second-hand scrubs that technically belong to the hospital...all of the cool kids have BlueSky scrubs which actually fit your body, sans the saggy-crotched pants and over sized man shirts. Not that I'm trying to impress anyone at the hospital (unless they're single and they smell good, of course).
One more 12-hour day to go. One more day until the sun will rise before I do.
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