Post-test

The Dutch Urology In-Service exam is behind me. For this year. I could have studied more, that's a truism, but I really could have. Now I have to prepare a presentation on male infertility, out of the book, Campbell's Urology. Urology bible. I keep being distracted by other things (tm), such as this blog and computer games and this cool soundtracksite. My girlfriend Jantina is off for late shifts on the cardiothoracic ward and I am just hanging out by myself. The presentation doesn't progress as it should. Oh well. Today we went for lunch to my future (?) in-laws, more about that some other time. Off to more about the varicocele.

Outlook Fighter

I have been promoted - sort of. Well, my job description has been broadened. Actually, I haven't been promoted at all, it's just that one of my bosses indefintely got rid of one of his jobs by making me do it. So here it goes: Operations need to be planned. Who gets operated on when, especially important in the Dutch managed care system and especially undesirable job to have (patients calling, angrily, why the hell it takes so long before it's their turn). Anyway. My predecessor at this task used Excel to make three to four different lists to allocate time spent in different ORs with different staff and different equipment, and I plan on doing it the better, faster, cleaner, cooler way - with Outlook. Brings me to which: the spreadsheet creation routine of Outlook - brings me to - hours and hours of wasted time, trying to create a spreadsheet that works. Oh well. Back to Excel.....

Clinics of Dwarfs

I am in clinics, catching a moment of respite. Centralizing patients creates something odd - a waiting room full of malformed dwarfs where I, the healthy doctor, am strangely out of place.

Blood on my pants

Today was a good, yet exhausting day. I did five surgical procedures involving lots of blood and even more water - like, 30 liters (yeah, metric) of it per procedure. Most surgeries were pretty difficult and taxed me to the limit. The way it works is that there's this old(er) guy standing behind me (groaning and moaning, generally heckling me), and whenever it is that I either do something really stupid (which hasn't happened lately) or just feel for myself that I've gotten in over my head (which happens regularly), he takes over (since he's been doing this procedures for, what, 20 years). 'This old guy' of course, is my supervisor/mentor/boss. That's the way it goes in post-grad medical education, all this modern talking about how fine scientific medicine has gotten etc., somebody has to teach you the surgical craft.

This is one of the aspects that I like best about my job - I am getting paid to improve. Incredible.

Anyway. I ended the surgeries of today with reasonable success- and a gargatuan stain of someone elses's blood on my pants. More stain than pants. I looked like a butcher.

Which was weird to realize.