Sometimes I feel like a small child on call. For example, when I look back on the night and realize my PO intake consisted primarily of:
-apple juice (from the labor floor juice machine "for patients only")
-graham crackers (from the ER cracker box - saltines or graham, take your pick)
-peanut butter M&Ms (from the triage nurse who said I "look like I need some food")
Good thing I'm not diabetic. Oh, yeah, I also had french fries for lunch. Because I got down to the cafeteria after the "real food" was finished, and I had the forethought to realize that a salad just was not going to cut it. One of the silver linings of calls like last night is you feel totally justified in the amount of junk you eat. M&Ms and all, I still didn't get enough calories to make up for a) my basal requirements or b) my running around like a crazy woman. I need to hire someone to spoon feed me mac and cheese while I write notes or I'm going to whither away.
In other career news, I start my first day of my first Maternal-Fetal Medicine rotation tomorrow. I'm so nervous. More nervous than I've been for a long time. It's like a first date with someone I really, really like. Is this going to work? Is this for me? Could we make a go of it for the long haul? What should I wear? (Cough...I may have ordered fancy new scrub caps in hopes of wearing them on this rotation...oh, yeah...) The more I learn about MFM, the more I think it might be what I want to do with my life. It's complex and dramatic and emotional...you can see why I might like it. It's about thinking like a medicine doc and cutting like a trauma surgeon. It's about saving lives - two at a time (sometimes three or four at a time). It's about being the resource for patients whose babies you cannot save. And, unlike what my med school MFM department led me to believe, it is NOT just about diabetes.