Circadian again

24 hours after I left my final night shift I stepped back into hospital and it was, once again, a strange place. I joined my new surgical team at 7am and by 8am I could feel the physical pressure of having people around me again, palpable and almost measurable with a barometer. In amongst the throng, I am once again a lowly intern - answering a page with simply "Hi it's Dave" is no longer enough, but I have to include my full branding "Hi, it's Dave, General Breast Endo Surg Intern number six-one-five."

The compensation to anonymity is the relative abundance of pretty young things wandering about. In one day I almost managed to walk into two IV trolleys after my retinas re-registered what a cute woman looked like. Go Pharmacy! Go Physio! Go hot older NUMs! Go! Go! Go!

Big ups (or downs) too, to cute medical students too, who wear totally impractical clothes to hospital! Girls, you look cute enough to make my brain temporarily dump the definition of heart sound S3, but if you brought handbags big enough to fit a Talley O'Connor in there you wouldn't have to ask me, would you?

I decided to send them to see my favourite patient, who wasn't surgical in any way. He was initially seeing our surgeon for a lump and they found he was anaemic. I was the one who admitted him to hospital and it turned out his anaemia was haemolytic, a condition where the immune system breaks down red blood cells. We turned him over to the haematologists and a few days later I spoke to his wife who told me that he was disappointed that I wouldn't be looking after him personally, which warmed my heart and made my day.

There's a general feeling that surgeons just like to cut things, and don't really care about their patients. I think it's more a product of an overloaded public health system. If you've only got five patients on your list (like I have), then you can afford to take a few more seconds with a patient and make them feel unique. If I've got a light list, then it's not just a privilege, but a responsibility to take those few extra seconds.

I have to thank Caz and Paul, friends of mine who were holidaying and staying with me this week. It made the transition to surgical internship much more enjoyable knowing I had something to come home to in the evening.

Two small plugs:

1) Masala Magic in Flemington - great, affordable Indian food.

2) Hyde bar on Russell St - managed by my fellow intern Marty, who was nice enough to hook me up on the guest list for the grand re-opening on Thursday. The decor was eclectic - plush couches sat next to thumping RnB, while Terracotta warriors sat at the bar either reading the random books about the place, or checking out the gorgeous bartenders. Caz, Paul and I turn up to see Marty sitting in the back corner with his posse looking like he's this town's Jay-Z and I think to myself that sometimes a little bling ain't a bad thing.