Every time there was a rough time during my intern year, I looked forward to the time I would do anesthesia. As I drug myself though the tediousness and exhaustion of internal medicine and cardiology, I thought about how great it would be to leave it behind for anesthesia. I daydreamed how anesthesia would be all rainbows and daisies and sparkles and pink unicorns.
Well, it's not.
Most of the emotions that I'm dealing with I know are irrational. I know it's because it's all new and scary and will eventually stop being that way. But at the same time, it's hard to cope at the moment.
My days are tough. I leave the house at 5:30 am, so that I can be in my scrubs and setting up the OR by 6 am. I work until 6 or 7 pm. And by work, I mean flat out run, both physically and mentally. There is no way to work fast enough to satisfy either my attendings or especially the surgeons. And everything is so new that I fall asleep the moment I sit down at home. I've fallen asleep both at the dinner table and while reading bedtimes stories to the boys.
Everything terrifies me. I feel like I don't know enough, that I'll never know enough. Obviously, I'm not supposed to know every thing right now. That's why I have three years of anesthesia residency, to learn all that I need to. But every time I provide anesthesia (under the watchful eyes and trained hands of my attendings) I feel that there is no excuse for the gaps in my knowledge.
There are days when my feet hurt so bad from standing for 13 hours that I limp to my car. There are days when I'm at the hospital until 8 pm that I want to throw things and give up. There are days when things go wrong in the operating room, things that I do know how to fix, and I'm shaking so bad that I can barely stand up. There are days when I feel that I'm not cut out for this.
I kept looking forward to anesthesia because I kept hoping to feel that medical school wasn't a terrible mistake. That I can have something good so I can stop feeling that I've given away my youth, my energy, and precious moments of my childrens' lives for something that just wasn't worth it.
Do I think it will always be this hard? No. Eventually I will feel comfortable, things will be second nature, and I'll know what I'm doing. Do I think it will always be so discouraging? Hopefully not. I'm counting on it not. Do I think it will be worth it? This is the question that takes more faith that I have some times. I hope so. I need it to be worth it.
Keep going! You've got lots of blog friends behind you! :)
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry it's so tough, but eventually, it WILL be worth it. You'll make it through and you'll be grateful for this time. Without it, you won't know just how good things are later.
ReplyDeleteThe day Anesthesia is rainbows and daisies and sparkles and pink unicorns is the day you are the patient and you are seeing the rainbows daisies etc...as you fall fast asleep grateful for those wonderful anesthesiologists that know so much. Keep up the hard work! :)
ReplyDeleteOh Katherine, your words bring back memories of my residency, my doubt...except you're also Mom to two wonderful boys. I was not Mom yet. I can only imagine what you are going through. It won't always be this hard and one day you will know exactly what you are doing and why you are doing it. Hang in there :)
ReplyDeleteGood for you for continuing to doing it despite your doubt. I would expect it will be worth it in the end and you, and your entire family, will be proud of what you accomplished.
ReplyDeleteLisaDay
All of the most valuable things in life have a wall, a time where you are not sure you can take another step, or take that pain any loner or hold on another day. Sometimes imagining quitting keeps things in perspective too: you know that you CAN quit, the choice in not being forced, however stuck you feel or how you may have been directed. Projecting what you see in yourself 5 or 10 years from now IF you did. Would you say ten years from now, I only had 3 years to go and then..? What kind of satisfactions/disappointments can you live with? Sometimes the dark is big enough you don't know or care. But believe that on the other side of this terrible place is the view. We all tell each other this because we need to hear it and give it. It is true from first days of school to pregnancy; from first steps, first teeth and junior high to marriage or illness and death. The price we pay makes the success so valuable.
ReplyDeleteThis mountain you are on has been impossibly high, so high most others have not attempted the journey you have undertaken. You will reach the summit, you will look over the ranges of valleys and mountains you have crossed or will cross, and you will see the that its worth it, and best, the purpose behind it.
And then you will truly know you were never alone. Look up sweetheart.
Much love, Mom
I'm sorry you're having such a rough time. I'm sure it won't be like this for long.
ReplyDeleteHang in there and work through it. You will be okay.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry things are not great right now. I know you will work through it- and here is something to cheer you up- I saw Robert Taylor Stephenson at Cams 10 year and thought of you. I just can't stop giggling when I think about those kings and graphics in our lockers- I also taught my nieces the card fortune telling game- he he.
ReplyDeleteWow--that sounds so hard. Not only the schedule and rigorous pace at work but all the emotions that go along with such a stressful time. I applaud your efforts and your dedication to your dreams.
ReplyDeleteThis too shall pass. Hang in there, it gets better. My sister-in-law is an anesthesiologist and she was able to stay married and raise her 2 children. It is hard, but at least anesthesia will be a field in which you can work half-time ( a relative term, I know, since "half time" in medicine is really full-time for the rest of us non-docs!)
ReplyDeleteI hope things get better soon. I really, really think it will get better, so hang in there. Easy for me to say, not so easy to do - but hang in there.
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