A Starbuck's Doubleshot at 6am this morning left me jittery and hyper. I wonder what meth would do? See Robyn? Doctors require lots of coffee so you would fit right in...
Hmm. I hate to complain. It seems to be a common theme lately. First, I want to reiterate that almost all the attendings are absolutely great to work with. I know almost all of them really like me. I can tell. The ones I talk about here are the minority. Really, there's only one left that I just can't tolerate. It's the same one who told me to extubate the woman who was still too weak to breathe a couple of weeks ago (and I'm starting to think he did that on purpose to "set me up" for failure). I'll start by describing him a little more. He's from a foreign country and he speaks very loud and fast. When I say he speaks loud, what I mean is that a normal volume for him is what I consider yelling. After awhile, hearing it just grates on your nerves. He also struts around with his chest out like he's some kind of womanizing macho man. I don't know if he looks down on women or not, it's hard to say. My own doctor is from the same country and he acts nothing like this guy.
Back to today. I had a really bad day with him. He wasn't even my attending, but this morning there was just a very minor event in the OR and I needed an attending present and mine got held up in another OR and couldn't help me. So Dr. Macho Yeller came in. He was pissed and started yelling at the nurse for telling him my problem was an emergency. Nobody told him it was an emergency. I defended the nurse and told him that. Then he started in on me. He talks so loud and fast it makes me really nervous to the point that when I'm around him I just become emotionless and clam up. I think this really frusterates him because later that day he pulled me out in the hallway and lectured me about communicating with him better and how I come off as being abrupt toward him. Anyway, after that event, he paged me about every 30 minutes bugging me about this and that. Later he wanted me to go give a lunch break to another resident. The case required sedation only and he told me to set up a propofol pump with a 20 cc syringe. Well, the pump requires a 60 cc syringe. Putting a 20cc syringe in it will cause it to deliver the wrong dose of sedation. Any idiot could figure that out. When he walked in the OR and saw the 60 cc syringe, he got pissed and yelled at me once again. I told him why I did it and he told me I was wrong. I'm not wrong. Why can't he just be reasonable? Why does it have to be a battle of the wills? Why would I want to underdose a patient's sedation by using a syringe that is 2/3 smaller than the one that's designed for the pump?
After the resident came back from lunch I left to go help do post-op rounds on patients. When I got to the hallway, I just started crying. I couldn't help it. I'm so tired of being beat down by this guy. Everytime he sees me he picks on me. My friend Julie passed me in the hall and we crept off and found a quiet corner to talk about it. She kind of wonders if my being emotionless around him is messing with his head because he's used to evoking a response in people. You know, I'm a 36 year old woman. He's not going to get a response from me. I'm not some starry-eyed young thing who thinks he's God. I'm a little more grounded than that. How do I get along with this guy without losing who I am? I'm seriously concerned I've become his target for the year. Why me?
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