Last week I was circulating a kidney transplant. I had my head down
over my paperwork when I happened to notice unexpected movement out of
the corner of my eye. I looked up to see a surgical resident rifling
through our warming cabinet for blankets. What grabbed my attention
was that she wasn't one of the residents who had been in my room, and
she
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I'm always happy to educate the interns who ask me about the isolation gear. Transplant surgery though...ack.
And this is so true: "Their two-year-old-like temper tantrums and
adolescent-like sense of entitlement makes surgeons difficult to deal
with if they don't get what they want..."
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even as I hastily prepared the Dr. Cox like rant (from Scrubs, the TV show) that I felt was suddenly appropriate.
Oh what I would have given to hear that rant....
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It's a miracle she even remembered what a bacteria was.
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