Sir Jerry

Surgery casualty was one of the postings I was looking forward to. I find Emergency Medicine (which is not available here) very interesting. Put it down to watching too much ER. Damn you, Noah Wyle. And traumatology is the main branch of the subject. In our hospital, trauma care comes under the departments of Surgery (for people who get coshed on the head, stabbed in the chest, and then have their breakfast disagree with them), Orthopaedics (for boyfriends whose limbs get broken by The Dad), OMFS (for those endearing personalities who pick fights in bars and pretty their faces) and ENT (for heavy metal fans who play their music REALLY loud). All of these can be achieved by simply getting drunk and then driving the next vehicle in sight.

We work in 3 shifts- 8AM to 11AM, 4PM to 8PM, and 8PM to 8AM. We are given these times so that we can watch TV at home with a guilty conscience during those hours.

The very first case I saw was depressing. An unconscious old man was brought to the surgery casualty- his wife said he had fallen and hit his head. The housie on duty tried to get the history of head injury (the usual projectile vomiting-convulsions routine), while the patient’s wife wailed in the background. She (the housie, not the wife) checked his pupils and breathing, and I noticed that the guy had blood tinged saliva coming out of his mouth. Then the duty MO took one look at him and yelled, 'MI, Medicine casualty stat!' We rushed him to the resuscitation room, and the Medicine PG immediately intubated him and gave him CPR. Shit, that was scary. Half the instruments wouldn’t work, the nurse couldn’t find any veins, and the PG was pumping away at his chest yelling instructions to the nurses. And then, for the first time in my life, I saw them using the defibrillator. ‘Stand back, we have to zap him.’ It was all done in a hurry, and I saw the paddles sparking. They tried it twice, but he was already gone.

I wish they would start a proper department for Emergency Medicine. It’s awful how patients need to be shuttled from one department to another because their illness encompasses many specialities.

I put 3 stitches. I hadn’t done it in more than a year, but the how started coming back once I started to stitch up a kid’s forehead. I’d forgotten how thick the scalp was, and how difficult it is to get the needle through. But I managed to finish it, and felt very satisfied. I hadn’t wanted to stitch up the wound, because the kid had vomited, and had bits of it sticking to his mouth.

Vomit and I have a very strained relationship. I can never look at it without wanting to add to it. I can resist the temptation until the smell hits me. Another repulsive body fluid is sputum. The revolting mallu habit of spitting on the roads has given me plenty of opportunity to get grossed out while crossing the road. This disgust does not a good doctor make.

Our SPM ‘study’ tour is coming up. After the heroic effort it took to convince my parents that we are going to Delhi strictly for ‘educational’ purposes, it got cancelled. We haven’t given up hope yet, though.

This is my last lax posting, and I have plenty of free time to catch up with my studies. So I spend most of my time on the Internet drooling over shoes. Strappy sandals are my best friends. We met when I was about 4, and their heels developed when I was 14. Take a look at this pair. I would cheerfully cut off my arm for them. And my other arm for these. And dear God in heaven, just look at them beauties. But I only have two arms, and they don't accept them as payment. My feet hurt from just looking at them, and my purse quit. I overheard my mom telling my dad that the internet connection wasn't such a good idea because I spend too much time on the net looking at shoes and crying. I hate my life. I think I’ll go jump from the roof or something. I’ll end up in the casualty anyway.

I am so unhappy. :(