Growing

Sometimes as surgical residents we are asked to be the face of the surgical team. Long after the attending surgeon has left, we alone check the patients we operated on that day, and prepare those whom we will operate on tomorrow. The dialogue is always somewhat stilted – in short, I’m not really the one they’re expecting to see.

I’ll always remember one night from my intern yearn. I was on call at a small hospital, religiously doing my post-op checks. Late that evening I walked into a room of a women who had just undergone gastric bypass surgery, and happily introduced myself as a member of the surgical team. I hadn’t participated in the operation, I was clear to her, but I nonetheless was here just to check in and make sure everything was ok. I did my exam, and left feeling confident that she would be fine for the rest of the evening. The nurse happened to be in the room with me during the whole exchange, and I was writing a note in the chart she came up beside me and said “Your patient must think you’re a little too young for all this; she just asked if your mother knew you were up so late!”

As I’ve grown through the surgical ranks my dialogue with patients has shifted. I started saying things like “surgery requires multiple people, and so I’ll be assisting in the operation.” But this afternoon something different happened. A younger man who has been battling dehydration, renal failure, and a pesky gallbladder will finally be going to surgery tomorrow. I’ve seen him every day the last week or two, and today I finally got his consent for the operation. He signed the papers, and then looked me and said “I realize there are other members of the team, but I’m assuming you’ll have a big part in this operation tomorrow.” That’s correct, I answered. He looked down, said something like “ok, good” and then added, with a big grin and a wink “no drinking tonight, ok? I need you tomorrow.” I laughed. No problem; I promise.

Sadly, the comment hit pretty close to home. The truth is that these past few months I have been drinking more than usual. I’ve never thought it’s ever compromised patient care, but it struck me that I can’t take that chance. This patient needs me. In fact, many patients need me, every day, and they deserve me at my best. Their faith in my depends upon it.

Yesterday in church we heard the parable of the sower and the seed. In this story, Jesus tells his followers how a sower scattered seeds upon the land, and depending on where they fell their fate was determined. Those that fell on the pathway were consumed by birds; those that fell upon rocks perished from the inability to form strong roots; those destined to land in the patches full of thorny weeds were strangled; and those precious ones that fell in the midst of the good soil reaped huge crops.

Jesus doesn’t go into the possibility of seeds migrating, but it strikes me as a very natural possibility. I don’t really know where I used to be, but I think I am finally living in the fertile fields, and am capable of growing roots, and yielding a harvest.

I love being the face of the surgical team. And I love that I am growing in it. Wish me luck tomorrow!