Progress?

In less than four months, I will be a doctor. Sure, people call me "Doctor" already (usually followed by, "You gotta help me...the pain" since I'm in the ED), but it isn't true. Soon, it will be. That's....weird.

There are things that I do now, kind of without thinking about it, that I would never have dreamed of doing four years ago. Things that even one year ago, my hands would have been shaking as I reached to do them. In one ED shift, I performed a pelvic exam on a woman who was in a lot of pain, did rectals on multiple constipated infants (sorry, babies!), helped splint a guy's broken hand (after he punched it through a window - brilliant), and threw all my strength into chest compressions on a man who I watched die moments later. When the old, substance-dependent guys thought that telling me I was pretty would help them get more pain meds, I was more firm, more confident with them than I used to be. I wasn't scared.

I fully expect to be terrified on my first day of internship. They say you should walk in on your first day ready to do a Cesarean section start to finish. Right now, I think I could. I've first assisted - found the fascial planes with my fingers, reached into the uterus and found a small head. But I don't know. I think I'm ready to be a doctor. I know that, with time, I'm going to be a great doctor. But right now, it's kind of scary.