my fifteen minutes

i have successfully completed my tenure in the surgical intensive care unit. overall, it was a positive experience. despite the stress, icu months are always great in that one learns a lot--far more than in other rotations. before i conclude my narrative of said month, i'd like to share a few humorous moments from my current rotation--trauma surgery.

you may remember that i did a month on this same service during my intern year. it is a busy service, but it's not too bad being back there since i am no longer responsible for the intern-level nonsense. my duties this year include seeing and running the traumas that come to the ED. i also spend some time doing general surgery consults on inpatients. the point of EM residents being on this service, so we are told, is to get more experience evaluating and managing trauma patients, although based on my experience so far (2 days) i think the surgery department needs an extra body to help with the high patient load. said another way, they want me to do some of what i did last year. the problem with this is that the intern year trauma rotation was taken out of our curriculum after last year (ie, my class was the last class to be subjected to it) because it was felt to be lacking in educational value for EM residents. the solution was to have us rotate there during our 2nd year and get some actual trauma experience. so far, that hasn't really panned-out, although as i mentioned, i have only been there for 2 days so that may change. as it was last year, there is still too much work for the interns to do and not enough time in which to do it. i've have been helping out, which i am actually enjoying quite a but--much to my surprise. i like having the opportunity to teach and help out; i enjoy the feeling of contributing to the education of other residents and easing the onus of the trauma drudgery that i know so well.

enough of waxing sentimental. the point of the prior introduction was to relate something funny.

so, here goes: last thursday, october 15th, i had the honor of inserting my right index finger into the anus of a pulitzer prize winning author. i no longer remember his/her name, or the name of the work for which said prize was awarded; in fact, i didn't learn about it until after the handshake had taken place. but i suspect that there are not a lot of other people out there who have done the same (as an aside, i will mention that the finger in the anus is part of the head-to-toe exam that all all trauma patients receive).

humorous anecdote #2 comes in the form of a cautionary tale, as follows: it is not a good idea, while lighting the propane furnace in one's trailer-home, to be simultaneously be engaged in the enjoyment of a cigarette. unintentional explosions and fires may result.

"it was chilly inside so i decided it was time to start-up the furnace. i went outside and opened the gas line, then i came back in to light the pilot since the electric starter is busted. i got down on my knees in front of it and the next thing i remember was waking-up in the bedroom [15ft away, according to the husband] with the paramedics and firemen all over"

her husband, who was at home at the time but in another part of the trailer, informed us that just prior to attempting to light the furnace, she had come to him and asked for a newport from the fresh pack he had just opened.

obviously i cannot say exactly how and why the explosion occurred, and i have certainly perpetrated my share of boobery. however, the words "propane furnace" and "smoking" in close proximity to one another sets of numerous alarm-bells, at least in my mind. apparently this is not the case for all.

two hours after she arrived, i went home. i ran 5 miles, took a shower, and i could not rid myself of the smell of burned flesh and singed hair. i had nightmares last night as well.