Erin's Bio

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In the OR, they insist on carrying out a “surgical pause” just before the procedure. Someone says the patient’s name aloud, repeats the planned procedure, and helps us all get our ducks in a row before knife meets skin. I’ve had a few “surgical pauses” of my own since being here, but not in the way that I’ve just described. I tried to come in enthusiastic, though I’m growing in size on a daily basis and knew already that surgery was not a part of my future medical career. I wanted to give it my best despite horror stories from previous classes of sleep-deprived medical students, some of whom have left amusing evidence written on the bottom of the call room bunk bed mattress along with endless strings of practice surgical knots.

My first two weeks were spent in ophthalmology, which I expected to bore me but knew that I would need in a primary care setting. What a surprise when I discovered how much I actually enjoyed it! This led to a long “pause” when I contemplated the lifestyle that I could have in such a field as compared to the salary and heartache sometimes brought on by primary care. Then I realized that the excitement of eyes would soon wear off, and I remembered how much I really do like variety. Then came surgery at the medical center. And trauma call. It hasn’t been as horrendous as I might have expected, but I can’t imagine anyone calling it fun. I’m clumsy in the OR, often can’t answer questions thrown at me by surgeons, and frustrated by the onslaught of intoxicated trauma patients, most of whom are out in the world and on the roads with no regard for the safety of others. I like surgeries, however, and am often amazed at the wonder of the functioning human body that I see even in the simplest of procedures.

I “pause” to pee. A lot. And to eat. I’m not sure that they know how to react to a pregnant person on the service, especially since Ali and I have both been on together this whole time and both of us are. I’ve had to pause and bite my tongue to keep from responding poorly to thoughtless comments and outright hostility. Perhaps the biggest pause of all came not so long ago, though, when I was in the middle of the rotation, in Asheville buying baby furniture, and dreading what I knew would be a tough call day the next day. I knew when I heard my grandfather’s voice on my cell phone that something was not right. My grandmother had been airlifted to the nearest cardiac center and was in ICU after having a heart attack. The student in me worried about that call day and about the rotation for about 30 seconds. Then I paused to think about what could happen. I paused to think about family, about having lost my mother, this grandmother’s daughter, already, and about what Granny means to me. I thought about my daughter who might never meet her great-grandmother, and about how meaningless a grade on a transcript or a mediocre evaluation really was to my future.

At home, I paused long enough to notify someone in Surgery about the situation, pack my bags and head for home, the place where I needed to be.

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