The scene of the crime

The scene of the crime
Originally uploaded by Ian__.

The joys of call

DSC01427
Originally uploaded by Ian__.

Imagine four pagers clipped to the waist of your pants. Then imagine each one going off twenty times, with questions ranging from the annoying ("Mr. Johnson just pooped on the floor and fell in it, what should we do?") to the frightening (Ms. Fahnestock just had a thirty beat run of v-tach and now she's unresponsive, what should we do?). Now imagine toting these pagers and putting out fires for thirty hours in a row, without sleeping or eating anything of substance besides graham crackers stolen from the 'patient food' pantry. Next envision yourself falling asleep standing up, three times, in the middle of x-ray rounds -- I'm talking full-blown catalepsy-style fits, with loss of postural control and everything, catching yourself just a split second before hitting the floor and/or having your head plummet square between your attending surgeon's shoulderblades. After that think of scrambling around on rounds for two hours, dreaming only of how unimaginably wonderful it would be to have the privilege of attending to certain basic biologic functions such as urinating.

Well, that's just a taste.