said the old white doctor to me as i stood around — voluntarily, i might add, at 7:30 in the morning — for the sole purpose of witnessing a liver biopsy. the experience brought me back to the days of yore (fine, 2003) when surgeons sneered at me and even went so far as to call me ‘pee-wee’ in the OR. for a second i wanted to yell at him: “YOU are why i used to hate this place, you bastard! get off of your pedastal!” but i restrained myself. i’m calmer now, see, and able to look forward 30 years to when i will be an insanely healthy and successful physician and he will likely be demented or dead (people who carry that amount of obnoxiousness don’t hold up so well, i think).
i finish with cushy clinic life (which was fun, while it lasted) and i start my pediatrics subI on monday! i am oddly looking forward to it, even with the prospect of q4 call (that’s ALL NIGHT every fourth day spent in the hospital, probably awake). i feel ready to handle the old stressors with this older, calmer, socially-smarter version of myself. but i reserve the right to change my mind post-call covered in baby vomit and other secretions i don’t even want to think about.