There are giants in the land

I've been practically living in the land of medicine for the past few weeks.  My experience represents the tiniest fraction of all that medicine encompasses, but I can clearly see that there are giants in the land.

Now, I'm not talking about 350-lb. patients who barely fit in the CT scanner, though I have seen one or two of those.  Nor am I talking about attending physicians who demand absolute excellence from their students and have a mile long list of credentials and degrees to back it up.  No, these are part of the picture, but not all of it. 

The giants that scare me most don't arrive into the emergency department on a stretcher, or stalk the hospital corridors in long white coats.

What scares me is the gulf of knowledge and experience that lies between where I stand and where I will need to be in order to really take care of patients.  Yesterday, our trauma team was taxed incredibly by a constant stream of new patients.  A man involved in a motorcycle crash who suffered multiple head lacerations including an ear that was only attached to his head by the lower lobe.  A van rollover victim who was bleeding out into his abdomen.  A man with a seizure disorder who had fallen 20 feet down a flight of stairs.  They kept on coming, stretching our nine person team very thin.

My attending and chief resident handled the influx with incredible composure and skill.  They seemed to know exactly what was going on with the twelve or so patients and exactly what to do for them.  I can't fathom how they were able to do it, nor even imagine myself being able to do the same in their position.

What scares me, too, is how rigorous and demanding the training is.  When I calculated out the hours spent working this week, not even including those spent studying, I found that I had worked over 70 hours.  It was exhausting and overwhelming.  And residents work much more than that.

What have I signed up for?  Sure, I knew about the hours before I even started applying for medical school.  But it's one thing to know about them, and quite another thing to experience them.

Has God led me here to medical school?  Without a doubt, though I will most likely be reevaluating that calling many times in the next few years.  Has He promised to supply all of my needs?  Absolutely.

There's no way that I can learn the things I need to learn without God's help. 

There are giants in the land.  They frighten me, but I will not run.  They intimidate me, but I will choose to stand.  They tower over me, but God overshadows them all.

'Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,' says the LORD Almighty.

An estimated half a million residents of the greater St. Louis area are currently without power as a result of the recent storms.  Temperatures soaring over 100 in the past few days combined with the humidity have put many residents, especially elderly ones, at significant risk of severe dehydration and even death.

The city has declared a disaster state.  Many nursing homes that have lost power are transferring their occupants to hospitals.  But the hospitals are filling up quickly.

SLU hospital has been taking many patients.  There was talk of setting up a disaster housing area in the cafeteria.  It's frighteningly easy to view the changes as a nuisance to the normal operations of the hospital, amounting to inconveniences for the staff and an increase workload.

But the people coming in need a place to go.  They've been driven from their residences by circumstances beyond their control and need help.  How can we refuse?

One week completed in surgery.  Trauma nights are not too bad when things are relatively quiet and you start getting used to the hours.  And the residents are nice.  Not like surgery residents are usually portrayed.

It's been hard to relate to the patients.  When a trauma patient comes in, a whole army of people descends on them to do the evaluation, resuscitation, and formulate a treatment plan.  There's a flurry of activity, then almost everyone leaves to go do other things.  I don't talk to the patients much other than to obtain information because they always are having something done to them.  And once they get admitted, they usually are asleep at night, except for the delirious ones who often have plenty to say but aren't great for real conversation.

I'll probably get to know the patients a little better when I switch to days and get to visit them in the mornings.

Into the fire!

I am so excited to start third year and working in the hospital, but I don't get to start on an easy service.  Tomorrow night, I'll report in at 5:45 to begin my first night shift with the trauma surgery team.  It's gonna be crazy.  The chief resident informed us today that there is constant work throughout the night.  Gunshot wounds, motor vehicle accidents, stabbing injuries--all in a night's work at one of St. Louis's trauma centers.

So now to try and prepare mentally, physically, and spiritually.

Men are not machines

Well, we're not.  When I think about all of the info that is required for Step 1, I sometimes wish that I had machine-like learning abilities.  Something like when Johnny 5 from "Short Circuit" would flip through books, assimilating the information with a mere scan of the pages and a vocalized, "Input."

But, alas, I can't do that.  Nor can I guarantee that my mind will be always ready to take in new information.  Take today, for example.  I spent much of the morning and afternoon slogging through the endocrine and reproductive systems in my review books.  Probably at least 20% of that time was spent pleading with God for the ability to focus on the material. 

Though I felt as if I needed to take a break during the whole day, I forced myself to remain in the library until dinner time.  Then I ate a leisurely dinner, played some guitar, read a little, and drove to school to hit the books again.

When I opened my First Aid, I was surprised to find that my ability to focus had some how improved.  And now, at 11:30 at night, I've experienced about an hour and a half of "in the zone" studying.  Call it a combination of answered prayer, strange biochemical rebalancing, my brain rebooting itself...I don't know what else, but something is working.  It's a shame that it's about time to go home.