For the wearied,fatigued senior registrars, drilling has mostly lost its excitement. Not for newbies like meIt’s 2am on a Saturday morning. My fiancee is in bed; some of my friends will be out on the town dancing. I’m stood in a sterile, or brightly lit operating theatre,wearing tatty scrubs and a stranger’s theatre shoes, holding the on-call neurosurgery phone, and the single point of contact for all the local hospitals in a region covering millions of people. But I’m also dancing on the inside. I’ve been referred a patient for an emergency operation,and I’m desperate to carry out some drilling.
Drilling is what the game is all about for me just now. For the haggard, wearied, and fatigued senior registrars,drilling has mostly lost its excitement. Not for newbies like me. I’m permanently trying to sniff out opportunities for hand-on-drill time; getting colleagues to text me what’s happening on the ward, checking the list of incoming admissions, and reviewing the scheduled operation lists. Is there a patient going for a scan? Might his clot have expanded? Might he need another operation? Better stick around!Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com