Medical school memoirs- CHAPTER 1 - Birth of a child, and a doctor

Hello fellow steemians!

Until this post, i haven't released any content which pertains to the 'Doctor' part of Doctor.fit. So iv'e decided to start sharing some of my most treasured experiences. Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer:

• This account of my experience isn’t for the squeamish, or feint-of-heart, read on at your own risk.
• It may be long, but bear with me
• This isn’t a conventional blog, as I won’t be posting these medical- stories on a weekly basis. Only when something pivotal, or worth writing about comes up.

I am a medical student, half way through the second year of my education. This is the first of what I hope will be many interesting and pivotal parts of my education, and journey to become a physician.

It was the first day of our OB/Gyn rotations, in the second year of medical school. The professor was yet to come and tend to us clueless clinical freshers. I sat there in anticipation and excitement, as everything was so new and novel. The others chatted away quietly, some with expressions of absolute terror, and others at complete ease. I held my head high, with my chest out. This was it. This was the day I finally got to interact with a REAL patient. I genuinely thought, how complicated could this subject be, it’s just dealing with deliveries, STDs, and women right? I couldn’t have been more wrong. For what was about to happen that day changed my entire outlook to not only the subject, but life.

Our two hour wait came to an end, as a short, middle-aged lady, with an expression of disregard approached us. Wrinkles covered the entirety of her face, as a neat plait of grey hair fell behind her. She looked a lot older than she was. Is this what happens to all physicians? Are we to live lives of constant stress and pressure?
“What batch are you in”? She barked at us, with an annoyed tone.
“We’re 3rd termer’s ma’am”! we replied with haste.
“Hmm, okay, we only have an hour left in your class today, let’s not waste any more time. I’m Dr.S, I’ll be taking your classes every Monday for this term. Make sure you’re on time, or I won’t be giving you attendance.”
At this point I was very triggered, how dare she give us a lecture regarding punctuality! What a hypocrite.

She started walking at a pace that one would think was impossible for a lady of her age, and stature. We kept up, with some of the more unfit of the class panting by the end of the dash.
“I doubt you would have experienced a child-birth. Scrub up, put your belongings in the lockers, and do it fast! You’re not attending a wedding. Come straight to bed 3, and 4. We are expecting 2 simultaneous deliveries.”
Mixed feelings of terror, and excitement took over. As I changed, I looked around and could ascertain that I wasn’t the only one panicking.

Five pain-staking minutes later, the 14 of us creeped up to the big, daunting doors of the labor ward. Unsure of where the beds were, and which one of us would go first, we collectively nominated (peer pressure works wonders) one of the girls to be our pioneer. Confused, she slipped through the doors. A couple of minutes later, she returned, telling us to follow her. We obliged.

The first thing you notice in a labor-ward is exactly what you would expect. Utter chaos! Nurses scraped past us, all the while shouting to one another. There were the odd deafening screams, along with that overwhelming ‘hospital smell’, due to all the disinfectants being used.

We split into 2 groups, one went to bed 3, and the other to bed 4. As I reached bed 4, my jaw dropped. Of course, we expected a patient to be behind the blinds, waiting for a physician to help her. But what I saw, was a lady, splayed out, for all the world to see. She didn’t look human at this point, her expression was that of a dazed, heroin addict. She lay there, sweating profusely, and groaning at regular intervals. She didn’t take notice to the 7 lost-looking medical students that just waltzed into her space, without taking her permission. Sympathy displaced any sense of confidence we had, as we stared at her, wanting to help, but not being able to. How much pain must she be going through to be in this state? I asked myself.

To kill the time, I snuck a quick message to one of my close friends, who had just recently been anointed as a licensed physician. “Tell me about Dr.S, quickly”!
She replied with, “Haha, I see you’re posted in OBG. She is one of the best, and most respected specialists in the country. She speaks 8-9 languages fluently enough, that no one can tell what her mother tongue is. She may seem crude in her practice and patient interaction, but trust me, she gets the job done more efficiently than most”.
This little, old bat was one of the most renowned specialists in the country?!
“Thanks for the heads up! I’ll see you this weekend”, I typed frantically, as I snuck back to bed 4.

What seemed like hours passed, as we were forced to wait for Dr.S to arrive. A barrage of nurses and post-graduate students paraded into the room, shouting, “Dr.S incoming”! We instinctively moved to the periphery of the room, in the hope of not drawing attention to ourselves. Dr.S stormed in, shouting commands in different languages, as she wore her gloves, and checked the patients vitals. She prompted the patient to ‘push’. A few minutes of chilling screams ensued. These weren’t your regular screams, they were more grave, more basal, animalistic. Some students muffled out the noise using their palms. I stayed strong. A mixture of blood, urine, and fecal matter slowly obscured the entire site, to a point where I couldn’t make sense of any of the anatomy (which I considered one of my strong points). It was at this point, 2 students got weak at the knees and fell over, almost in-sync. Another 2 started feeling squeamish, and helped the 2 who had passed out, out of the room. Three of us remained. Were we going to make it through this ordeal? I started questioning myself. Dr.S picked up a scalpel, and started cutting at what seemed like a reckless speed , somewhat resembling a hair-dresser. Could she really navigate herself around what looked like nothing more than red paper maché to me? All the while, those soul piercing screams continued. Millimeter by millimeter, a head started appearing. After what I would say was 15 minutes of cutting, and pushing, Dr.S slowed down her maniacal pace. “One last push”, she screamed at the patient. With a tremendous scream, the baby was expelled from its mother. One of the nurses clipped the umbilical cord, and proclaimed, “It’s a beautiful girl”.

The new mother drew on what little strength she had remaining, and smirked in approval, before losing consciousness. I sighed in relief, finally she was at peace, and it was over.

“You, hurry up and take her BP (blood pressure)”!
Shocked, I turned to see Dr.S pointing straight at me.
Oh no. Not now. Why now?!
“Me ma’am”?
“Who else do you think I’m pointing at”?
I stood by the patient’s right side, and froze.
SHIT. SHIT. SHIT. SHIT… I thought.
“Hurry up! We don’t have all day! Check the patients damn BP”!
“Ma’am… Err… I don’t have my stethoscope on me”.
“You’re going to make an amazing physician, your attention to detail is uncanny. Go get one from the nurse’s station”, she spat, sarcastically.
Before she knew I was gone, I was back with a stethoscope. I marched to the patient’s side, as she slowly regained consciousness.
Okay Sukrit, you can do this, you’ve done this 1000 times before, if there’s one thing you can do, it’s this!
Isn’t the brain’s ability to forget what is necessary in times of stress amazing?
Yep… I forgot how to do the one thing I was certain I had mastered.
She shoved me out of the way, and told me to get out, but not before berating me.

Emotions flooded me, as I left the room. I didn’t know what I was feeling, was I angry? happy? Sad? Scared? There was no clarity in my thoughts. A thousand things went through my head simultaneously. The one thing I was certain of, was that something in me changed. I felt different.

As I walked home from university that evening, I realized something. The amount a woman has to go through during childbirth truly is unparalleled by any other experience. As a physician-to-be, it is my responsibility to be empathetic, and get the job done in a professional manner, while keeping the person’s suffering to a minimum. Yes, I said person, not patient. What was the point of all the childish behavior with fellow class-mates? No. In due time, people will entrust their lives with me, I owe it to them to do my best, and excel. There are lives at stake!

It was on that day that my mindset changed, from a medical ‘student’, to a future physician.

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