Finishing Up Round Two in the CVICU

As I reflect on my last few days on the cardiovascular ICU, I remember great relief and also strangely, a little longing. It is the feeling of being forced to do something I wasn't sure I could handle, and then coming out intact at the end. There was a period of time in there where I worked 17 days in a row that I had this inexplicable mix of exhaustion and accomplishment. Each day we spent 12-16 hours in the hospital, and after two and a half weeks of that, I knew every single detail about every single patient. I understood their hearts so intimately, could tell you how the patients responded to each hemodynamic change, could recount the story of recovery after surgery. This is medicine as was practiced generations ago, when the word "housestaff" and "resident" were literally true. The hospital was my home, the patients, nurses, surgeons my family. I learned so much and felt invincible. I took the best parking spot when I arrived at 4AM, learned the quickest routes to the cafeteria, found stashes of snacks for ailing residents and fellows. I got to know which family members slept in their loved ones' rooms, which nurses took extra night shifts, which anesthesia techs staffed the graveyard shifts. I loved that feeling.

But it was also a month where I seldom saw my wife, abandoned my blogs, forgot about cooking, became derelict in emails, became lost to follow-up to my friends and family. One of my friends' parents refers to her OBGYN residency as the "dark ages," a gap of four years where she knows nothing of current events, movies, books, pop stars, friends' life events, elections, politics. It is a sacrifice physicians generations ago made, and something we seldom do now. After going through this month, I understand why such a period of clinical immersion is so transformative but also how it can wreak havoc on any identity outside being a physician. I am glad I went through my CVICU month. I am glad it is done.