growing pains

Today was the day I got my hands dirty during a natural delivery and delivered my first baby. As luck would have it, my first was with a baby who had Meconium stain and nuchal cord x 1. In other words, a very complicated delivery, so much so that the baby was in respiratory arrest and we had to start bagging him. NOT GOOD. The mom kept staring at me and the doctor asking why her baby wasn't crying. I literally wanted to vomit. Thank the lord that my preceptor (the doctor) is completely amazing and knows how to keep her cool in a very tense situation. She guided my hands to where they needed to go when I started to freeze up and helped me stay outwardly calm and collected when all I wanted to do was jump out of my skin. I felt so bad after the delivery thinking I had done something wrong (which I didn't).... she let me know that sometimes deliveries are just complicated, and it happened that my first case was that way. The baby is now fine, and mother is fine, and I'm fine. I guess this is what comes with growing up.

as we say in Alaska...

judging a book by its cover

While walking through the halls of yet another hospital today (this time Kent General in Dover) I noticed a trend in medical marketing. Every place I've worked at so far displayed a sign with children dressed up as doctors/nurses reminding folks to wash hands or be quiet or whatever. Sure, at first glance you think everything's alright, perhaps even a little precious, but after so many exposures, you start to become concerned. Concerns like where the hell do these kids get off telling me what to do? They've got to be no older than 4, sans college degrees and permanent teeth. Unless you're Doogie Howser and can chew through steak, I'm not buyin, even if I know better.

In fact, I'm rebelling. My plan tomorrow... avoid soap like the plague while screaming Yankee Doodle Dandy. See that kids, look at what you made me do. you're bringing me down to your level.

side note: I was actually slapped in the face by a two year old girl who was the sister of an 8 month old baby I was treating. Apparently I was giving too much attention to her brother even though the staff took the time to blow up a disposable latex glove and fashion it to look like a chicken. So she climbed up on a step and took her glove and slapped me with it. I swear, I almost quit right there.