top of page

An Intro

Hi, welcome to my blog. If you’re reading this, it’s probably because you have some interest in surgical training, investment in me as a person (hi, family), or a Grey’s Anatomy addiction and you’re seeking some medical drama (in which case, this blog will almost certainly disappoint). I’m here because five months into my intern year which is what we call the first of seven (!!!) years of surgical training I realized: Holy crap, I need to write. The experience of being a new intern has been dizzying, challenging, and totally ridiculous at points. These months have left me with writing material pouring out my ears like blood pooling after a bad trauma (sorry) and yet, I’ve barely scribbled more than a few paragraphs since starting.


Not to make excuses, but here’s my excuse: I put too much pressure on just about everything.


In residency, I’m constantly falling behind on the promises I make, mostly to myself: I’ll exercise every night, I’ll get at least 7 hours of sleep, I’ll only eat home-cooked veggie-dense meals, I’ll never get grumpy and snap at anyone, I’ll care for every patient like they’re my own relative. For these things and more, I certainly try. I do my best on many days, but other days the fatigue and exposure to depressing and sometimes dehumanizing experiences wears on me, and I show up as less-than-my-best self. Often, time is my main nemesis: I can’t do it all on days where I only get two hours to myself in the evening, if that. Sometimes, I spend those hours slowly showering, eating hummus and pita chips, and watching Ted Lasso before setting the alarm for 4:00 AM and passing out.


Unfortunately, insufficient time and relentless fatigue will be fixed issues for me over the next several years, but the modifiable “risk factor” here is my own expectation of myself. If I aim to do everything and to do it perfectly (“always exercise,” “never snap”), of course I’m going to fail. This is also true when it comes to writing. If I jot down a quick paragraph at the end of a 14-hour workday and am disappointed that my words don’t fully capture how I’m feeling, or that my language isn’t polished that’s on me for setting the bar so damn high that I can barely skim it with my fingertips.


Acknowledging that I’ve put too much pressure on myself to write about surgical training, I’m instead hoping to use this blog as a low-stakes space to reflect on some of the mundane realities of life as a surgical intern, interspersed with the more intense moments of sorrow, frustration, and elation. If the writing is sloppy, so be it. If I use too many parentheticals (see above, and here) or unnecessary swear words, you can call my mother who taught me both when to use a comma and an F-bomb. Alternatively, you can just stop reading and, at the very least, I will have a record for myself of the years of training that are supposed to be “life-altering.” It’s too soon to feel any big changes, but so far, intern year has been a little harrowing and a whole lot of fun. I’d love to tell you about it.


What is Surgeon Junior?


In surgical residency, you have to document every operative case you participate in to prove to an accreditation council that you have, in fact, performed enough surgeries in seven years to become a Real Surgeon. When we operate as residents, we do alongside the Real Surgeons who guide our instruments, instruct us on where to throw the next stitch, and offer feedback sometimes in kind and encouraging terms, other times with grunts and a few terse words. In these cases, we report our role as “Surgeon Junior."


Who am I, and Why Should You Care?


I’m a General Surgery resident at a large academic hospital. General Surgery is the broadest of the surgical training tracks, and can lead to further sub-specialty training (yes, more years) in trauma, colorectal, transplant, endocrine, bariatric, oncologic, thoracic, breast, vascular, or even plastic surgery. We spend seven years rotating through many of these specialties and providing care to patients with surgical problems, both in the operating room and on hospital wards.


I’m not sure why you should care, but I care a lot about cancer surgery, medical humanities, and have written a bit about medical training among other matters. My opinions and experiences are just that my own, and I can’t promise they’ll always be interesting or entertaining.


Disclaimer


Let me just be very explicit upfront and say that absolutely NONE of my opinions reflect those of my employer. I’m also gonna be really freaking careful to protect patients here, I will gladly strive for perfection which means I’ll sometimes be vague, I’ll often change facts around, and I’ll always delay sharing stories until well after they occurred.


I will also aim to tread lightly in my posts because I’ve been repeatedly warned about being vocal as a doctor (about any topic, really) since professionalism is so central to good patient care. But I do believe, from the bottom of my already-hardening heart, that you can both be a human with feelings and opinions to share, while also being a professional, respectful physician. Maybe this belief will shift throughout my training, but for now, it’s where I stand.


*


So if you find any of the content that follows even a little bit engaging, I invite you to read on and reach out. My inbox and my ears are always open.


Recent Posts

See All

Do Less Harm

Of all the false hopes perpetuated by doctors, “Do No Harm” is, to me, the worst of them. This ideal, that we force graduating medical...

The Mistake

Five months into my second-year of residency I burned the cystic artery. I’d been operating a bunch at one of the smaller hospitals,...

Consent

My hands were in someone’s abdomen when the page came through. I was changing the dressings for a patient who had been in the hospital...

Comments


bottom of page