the underwear drawer

tripping to the light pimptastic

My first day of work after promotion to PGY-2 status was spent as the most junior member of the Pediatric Neurology team. The group consisted of me, a rising third-year neuro resident, a rising fourth-year neuro resident, two Peds Neuro fellows, and a Peds Neuro attending. Of the six of us, guess who knew the least about Pediatric Neurology? I guess you had better hope it was me, or else we'd be in big trouble.

I haven't done any neurology since medical school, so coming back to it was kind of like revisiting a foreign country in which you spent a brief layover en route to your real destination. Kinda like that movie "Before Sunrise," except without less romance and more stroke victims. I'd forgotten how academic neurologists were, and how much their attendings love to pimp. All our rounds today were conducted in a series of questions posed to different members of the group based on the degree of difficulty and level of graduate medical education. So I guess that means I got the softballs, but even so, I was only batting at about 500. I guess that would be pretty good if we were actually talking about softball, but unfortunately, we're not.

I'm on call again tomorrow. I'm a little scared, but not because of the patients. The kids, I can handle. The call room, however, is a nightmare. It looks like three frat boys and one mid-sized medical supply closet exploded in there. Also, there's a funny smell. I'm not really sure I want to touch the sheets. Not to generalize, but even without seeing any of the residents, I think that you can tell from their call room that most of the Neurologists are guys.

Currently reading: "The New Yorker." The second I finish the old one, the new one comes in the mail.

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