Some humor for the new interns – you’ll discover that it would be funnier if it weren’t true.
Some humor for the new interns – you’ll discover that it would be funnier if it weren’t true.
Do you know what they call alternative medicine that works?
At a medical convention, a male doctor and a female doctor start checking each other out. The male doctor asks her to dinner and she accepts.
At the restaurant that evening, she excuses herself to wash her hands once they’ve ordered. The food, drink, and conversation are enjoyable to both. After the meal, she goes to wash her hands again.
One thing leads to another and they end up in her hotel room. Just as things are progressing *ahem* nicely, the woman interrupts and says she has to go and wash her hands. She returns and things really get hot and heavy. Afterwards, she gets up and to wash her hands once more.
As she enters the room, the male doctor says, “I bet you’re a surgeon.”
She confirms and asks how he figured it out. “Easy, you’re always washing your hands.”
She then says, “I bet you’re an anesthesiologist.”
He is stunned, “Wow, how did you guess?”
“Because I didn’t feel a thing.”
Workin’ where the sun don’t shine…
Yeah, there’s probably something very wrong with many of us surgeons. :p
Five surgeons are in the lounge between cases. They start discussing which patients they think are are best.
The first surgeon says, “I think accountants are the easiest to operate on. You open them up and everything inside is numbered.”
The second surgeon says, “I think librarians are the best to operate on. You open them up and everything’s in alphabetical order.“
The third surgeon says, “I like to operate on electricians. You open them up and everything inside is color-coded.”
The fourth surgeon says, “I like engineers. They always understand when you have a few parts left over at the end.”
The fifth surgeon says, “I like to operate on lawyers. They’re heartless, spineless, gutless, and their heads and their butts are interchangeable.“
There’s a first time for everything. But no one wants to be the first patient for anything. And I can’t blame them – I wouldn’t want to be a guinea pig for someone’s first attempt at drawing blood or removing an appendix. Still, all those doctors and nurses you see walking around the hospital had to learn somewhere. If you’re in any kind of teaching hospital, chances are they’ll be learning on you.
To be sure, there’s plenty of supervision, whether from attendings or more experienced residents. That supervision is usually most direct in the summer, when newly minted doctors are being unleashed on the unsuspecting masses for the first time. Still it’s considered very poor form to make it obvious to a patient that they’re your first.
Less than a week into my residency, I was asked by an attending to perform a fairly routine bedside procedure – changing a negative pressure wound therapy (aka wound VAC) dressing. The dressing itself consists of a sponge which is cut to size and placed in the wound, then covered by a sheet of sticky clear plastic, the “drape”. An attachment connects the dressing to a pump, and this applies constant suction to the sponge.
Once the pump is turned on, the vacuum effect of this contraption pulls fluid and other crud (yes, that’s the technical term) out of the wound. It also draws the edges of the wound together. Together, these effects help large wounds heal much more quickly. Changing the dressings isn’t too difficult, but there is an art to doing it well – minimizing the patient’s discomfort when the old dressing is removed, cutting the sponge and drape to the right size, creating a proper seal, resisting the urge to fling the pump across the room when it won’t stop beeping because there’s an imperceptible leak somewhere in the system… Usually, it’s a two person job, since we’re trying to customize and apply a flat dressing to curved surfaces.
Anyway, after some discussion with the attending, he was comfortable with allowing me to change the VAC dressing alone for the first time – I had done a few in medical school with resident supervision, and we had placed the current dressing together in the OR just two days before. So, I ordered the supplies and went to Mr. H’s room to tell him about our plan. We talked about the process of changing the dressing, and I told him that once the supplies arrived, we could proceed. I asked if he had any questions before I left.
“Yeah Doc, are you going to do it or should I expect someone else?”
“I’ll be coming back to do it, your nurse will page me once the supplies get here.”
“Oh good, that’s a relief! I’m so glad they’re having an expert do it. I was so afraid they’d send up someone new who doesn’t know anything!”
Smile and nod, girlwithaknife, smile and nod – and don’t say anything stupid.
“Oh, we wouldn’t do that to you Mr. H, it’ll be just fine. See you in a little while, bye for now!”
With that, I turned on my heel and skedaddled before he could ask any more awkward questions (or realize that he was, in fact, getting a complete noob).
A foley catheter is a piece of tubing with a balloon on the end. The balloon goes into the bladder before being inflated, allowing urine to drain into a bag. They certainly aren’t fun to have, and I imagine they’re about as uncomfortable as they sound. That said, sticking tubes into people’s privates is sure to result in awkward humor sometimes – right? Here’s two you might… well, enjoy is perhaps not the right word…
When we get trauma patients, we have to get a urine sample from them. In some hospitals, they allow the patient to try to pee before putting in a foley, though people often complain about trying to pee on command. During a med school rotation, we had an especially big weenie of a patient. He was a 6′ tall, 200lb former marine who had shrapnel in his lungs from his combat time. Yet, he screamed like a 5 year old when we took his blood.
By the time we got to the urine collecting stage, my poor ears had been robbed of their remaining shreds of innocence. None of the residents relished the idea of trying to put a catheter into this guy. Finally, one of them stepped up and explained the options. His eyes got wider and wider as he heard about the foley. I don’t think I’ve seen someone reach for a urinal so eagerly before…
Foleys also come in different sizes. After my first experience putting one into an awake patient, I’ll remember that fact forever. We had an inebriated, uncooperative patient, and it was clear that he wouldn’t be coordinated enough to give us a sample voluntarily. The resident asked me to grab a foley set and insert it while she and the ER tech held the patient down.
Foley catheters are measured in French gauge scale, where 12 fr = 4 mm, 14 fr = 4.7, 16 fr = 5.3mm, and 18 fr = 6mm. In this particular hospital, we almost exclusively used 14fr or 16 fr catheters, and they’re placed on a tray near the bed before the ambulance even arrives. But on this occasion, for some reason, the tray wasn’t ready. Once again, I had to go hunting.
Finally, I found a foley set in the supply cupboard and prepared to insert it. I managed to get about 5cm of the catheter into the patient before he opened his eyes with a yelp and tried to leap off the gurney. The resident and tech managed to hold him down, and they yelled “keep going!” in unison.
Once our adventure in insertion was complete, we continued the rest of our treatment. As we were cleaning up, a nurse wandered by and looked at the packaging for the foley.
“Why did you guys put in an 18 fr?”
The resident, tech and I looked at each other.
I still remember the first time I told a joke in the OR. I was a junior resident, working with one of our most “old school” surgeons, Dr. D. He’s renowned for being extremely meticulous, and he doesn’t suffer fools gladly. If you’re operating with him, you have to be prepared. He’s also very formal – sometimes, I wonder if he even knows any residents’ first names, because he makes it a point to always address us as “Dr. Lastname“.
We were performing an extremely complex case, an operation that Dr. D is known for internationally. I was positioned to his left and slightly behind him, holding onto a retractor. My most important tasks during this case were to provide perfect tension for several hours and to stay awake enough to answer any questions he might ask. I was doing pretty well so far. Until Dr. D turned very slightly towards me and said in his usual stern tone, “Dr. Girlwithaknife.”
Ah crap, he’s gonna ask me something and probably I won’t know the answer and then I’ll look like an idiot…
“Yes, Dr. D?”
“Do you know any good jokes?”
Uh, think… wait… jokes?!
“Good. Would you care to share one with us?”
Oh God, think! Of course, my mind went completely blank. Well, except for one slightly off-color joke. Nooooooo! I can’t tell that one!
“Um, well… ahem… Ah.” *deep breath* “Well, you see Dr. D, the only one that’s coming to mind right now is, um, perhaps not appropriate for sharing in mixed company.”
He turned all the way around and looked at me with a raised eyebrow, “I see.” Then he went back to operating. Okay… And then he turned back towards me, “Well?!”
Great. There was no getting out of this. I’d have to tell the joke and live with the consequences. Do or die. God knew what Dr. D would think of me now… and hopefully no one else would decide that I was somehow harassing them.
“OK… And if anyone gets offended, I apologize in advance!”
Awesome preface, that only ensured that everyone was looking at me with curiosity.
An elderly couple were discussing their wills. The husband turned to his wife and said, “My dear, if you were to pass before me, would you mind if I married a beautiful young woman? It would ensure that my final years would be happy, even without you at my side.” The wife thought for a few moments. “Well, darling, I suppose I wouldn’t mind too much. But you’d have to agree that if you pass first, I could find myself a handsome young man to enjoy my final years with. After all, 20 goes into 80 much more easily than 80 goes into 20.”
There was slightly a terrifying moment of quiet while everyone processed the punchline. Then –
“Ahahahahaha!” Dr. D’s booming laugh filled the room.
And I could finally sigh with relief, hoping that my cheeks would stop burning before the end of the case.