Sunday, October 16, 2011

Truth Unfolding

When I was a medical student, I loved surgery because it stood for truth in my mind. There was no lying or covering up or giving 50% or even what you thought was 100%. Whatever you did had to be exactly precisely accurately 110% correct.

Now I am realizing that demand on a whole new and sometimes frustrating level. As a resident, I am not just pretending to care about patients while I try to pass exams. I am actually responsible for their care. There are times when I'm the only surgeon scrubbed on a case (simple ones, of course) or the only one writing and reviewing admission orders on a patient, or seeing them on discharge when they leave the hospital. Am I giving 110%?

Surgery is truth. You can't cover up a bleeder--you have to fix it right then and there before you move on to any other step of the operation. Your sutures have to be exact--if they aren't, the fascia will dehisce and the patient will wind up at your door with a complication. Or if your skin sutures aren't good, the skin will bunch up and heal with an ugly scar--your fault. There's no hiding, there's no room for error, your mistakes are like a mirror staring back at you.

So how does one go about being perfect if there's no room for error? No one is perfect but God. I have been frustrated with this thought recently, wanting to do the very most excellent best for my patients in the OR and on the floor, but my ignorance and lack of experience make that feel nearly impossible. I haven't seen or done or practiced or been taught enough. I am reading with a renewed vigor; for the first time I truly believe that my studying pancreatic cancer will make a real difference in someone's life. I never felt that way as a student--it was much more nebulous.

The answer is always the same of course, it's just my mind that runs in circles back to the same conclusion after running the mill of my silly human emotions. The only thing to do is work as hard as I possibly can to learn whatever I can, squashing ego and laziness.

The beauty of this formula is that it's good for my soul as well as my profession.