you've come a long way, baby.*

i went into family medicine because i'm all about continuity of care. watching families grow, etc. etc. please refer to my personal statement for the full details. i'm sure i was well-rested when i wrote it and i really meant all of the things i said. also i was not at a point where i broke down into hysterical sobs at the thought of starting another month.

i digress. it's been a long month, and thus i am just returning to you, my audience.

so today i was on essentially day one of a new rotation, the family medicine OB service. the sadistic bit about this rotation is that it is essentially me covering the patients all by myself, and having to call the attendings (who sometimes are not even in house) for help. no senior resident. hell, i don't know how to function on the OB floor, nevermind check a freaking cervix. (hence the sobs sunday night at dinner.) so there i was, day one. all of a sudden, there was a laboring patient and an induction. EEP! but the umass community came together. the senior resident, who had been my senior resident in august and was on overnight, offered to stay for the morning. my 1st and 2nd year preceptor was one of the attendings, and the other was my med school advisor and life model. when my cross-covering pager went off, and i answered, i heard 'this is dr. [life-model]' on the other end. she said, 'oh, hi mary! i'm glad it's you!' and i blurted out 'i have no idea what i'm doing!' 'sure you do,' she cooed.

as the other attending and i prepared to get the laborer pushing, she turned to me and asked, 'do you need a juice?' i flashed back to first year, when i passed out during a circumcision, and recalled how she subsequently spent the next year asking me if i felt okay any time blood was mentioned. 'i just had one!' i said firmly and we marched into battle. as we stood together at the foot of the bed, i remembered another time when she thrust a syringe of lidocaine into my hands in the patient's room, and then silently took it back from me when i couldn't muster the courage to inject. 'is this your first time?' the mother asked as dr. [preceptor] ran through the procedure. 'oh, i've done this a few times,' i said, 'but dr. [preceptor] is the pro,' and winked. dr. [preceptor] handed me a cloth for perineal protection.

in the end, one little slimy bundle of goo came out into both of our hands, and dr. [preceptor] passed it up onto the mom's tummy. mom cried, and commenced texting. we told her how well she'd done. dr. [life-model]'s induction was going nowhere, and she was still at the hospital, where she was planning to spend the night. i offered to bring her starbucks in the morning; she said she was more of a tea drinker. i'm sure we'll reconnect in the morning.

oh, so what i started to say about family medicine and continuity of care. it's one thing for me to care for families over the long haul. but what i didn't think about when i stayed at umass was how nice it would be for me to be cared for over the long haul. first year med school was a sweaty, panicky, faint-filled time, and somehow, when you reconnect with someone who saw you then, you realize that you really have made some progress, no matter how inadequate intern year makes you feel. if nothing else, you have gained the presence of mind to use an instrument when it's handed to you and learned to drink a juice before heading into potentially faint-worthy situations.


*obviously, i do not endorse the virginia slims advertising campaign that somehow equated carcinogens with women's progress. talk to me about quitting smoking! did you know that the average person needs to try 6 times to quit? have you tried the gums? the patch? set a quit date? would it help you to meet with our behavioral health team? i, your family doctor, can help!