Confessions of an Intern

Week Thirty-five

Week Thirty-five...I can't believe it. I have been here over 2/3 of a year. I have been a doctor for that long now. Wow.

Okay, enough of that. This week entailed me trying to admit everyone the ER sent my way. While I am here to admit and manage patient care, I am also here to learn. When it is so busy, the learning falls to the back. I guess it is just a different learning then, survival skills. The first night on service, I admitted 5 patients. We had 11 for the group that night. My last night float, our busiest night was 10 total and that only happened once. This week, it's happened several nights. No rest for the weary, that's sure. One night, I admitted a 17 year old boy who looked so much like my oldest son, I had to stop and take a breath. He had overdosed and blah blah blah, HIPPA protection etc. Suffice it to say, my heart ached for him. I spent a few minutes extra stroking his hair and laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. He really ultimately needed a mother. That was the root of his problem.

My Detective husband has told me that I can't save them all, when I talk of the sadness I hold for all the kids who have a tough life or really have never been taught any better. It is true. I can't save them ALL. I just wish I could save all of them I come into contact with. If my kids were ever in need, I would want a kind stranger to help them.

It sucks. Life is so precious. A thirteen year old boy in my kids' school hung himself this weekend. I don't know how my husband does it. Yes I see tragic stuff, but he is on the frontline of it. He sees stuff that is so bad and the people are dead, so I never am troubled by it in my line of work. At some point, it may have been my line of work that could have prevented some of what he has to deal with. But not the majority of it. I always say that if everyone had a mother who loved them, the world would be a better place. I realize not all mother child relationships are great, mine with my mom included. But...I know she loves me, despite other misguided things she does. I love her, in spite of her craziness. She was physically abusive to us as kids and we didn't speak for several months. I made the first move to reconnect. And I had to give her parenting advice when she had another child fourteen years younger than me. I have forgiven her, but I had to move on from her veil of influence. I think that is what some of these folks who can't deal need to do, move out of the influence of the others in their lives and own their future. That's easier said than done, but in an ideal world...