the underwear drawer

up all night with the babes

The best feeling in the world is walking out of the hospital post-call. That is, unless you did something really bad or some kid died, in which case you wouldn't be whistling and snapping your fingers or anything like that, but probably still feeling pretty relieved to go home. I had a rough call last night, but I think we handled everything reasonably and everyone made it through (relatively) unscathed. It just goes to show you, though, that no matter how big or small your service is, all it takes is that one really sick kid to keep you up all night.

I think that things were pretty much under control (or at least in a holding pattern of stable badness) around 3:30AM, but just as I put my head down and fallen asleep, I got paged from the delivery room for thick mec. Another house doc and I ran up to the delivery and everything went OK, but man, the timing of that page, it's like they were watching me from a remote monitor, waiting for the exact moment that I dipped into Stage 2 sleep to call. Bastards.

I'm really tired. I'm going to take a shower and then crawl into bed. Sometime yesterday, my building decided that it was finally warm enough to turn on the central air-conditioning in the building. Ooh, clean bod, cool sheets! Nothing could be finer.

Currently reading: "Walk on Water." I'm finding all this talk of post-op cardiacs particularly relevant after my two months of cardiology call and this month in the NICU. Wish I had read the book before I started.

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