Lidocaine for the Soul

It's been a tiring week and I work through the weekend but I wanted to write a quick something.

I'm well into my surgery rotation, and have been working hard.  I have less time to reflect, less downtime, and I spend much of my time working.  I don't mind that, and I actually enjoy being in the OR, but I feel like I've gone quite a while without really thinking deeply or connecting with the emotional part of my brain.

I like how surgery is a lot of physical work, every moment you do has an effect and goes towards the goal of helping a patient.  And you still get clinic time, which I enjoy, though the pace certainly is a little fast.  The surgery clinic is quick and focused by nature, but it's completely up to you how much you want to spend with your patient when you're running your own clinic.

I chose this title because I feel like I'm a little bit numb, with intermittent pain and sadness.  I always feel sadness when a patient I've followed passes, actually more like a deep grief that sits inside me for several days.  When I reflect on the death of a patient, I do so quietly during the fast pace of rounds or when walking from one place to another, or sometimes during the few, still moments of my day.

When I reflect on a lost patient, I feel like night falls and the moon is high in clear sky, my thoughts being the bright reflection of the surface of the moon, the only thing in the deep night sky.

I also chose this title because I spend so much time working, and then see the girl I like out talking to our mutual friends/classmates in the hall as I'm on my way back to the hospital or heading home because I'm too tired to stay and study.  I chose this title also because I just work a lot and feel forgotten by people I call my friends, and just don't have enough very deep meaningful friendships, so I could use a little lidocaine in those parts of my soul.

A bit of a mixed post, but I've been enjoying my rotation greatly.  Hope to write more and hope you keep reading, thank you.