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I wonder if the roles were reversed, if my photo were in a calendar, would Connor do the same? Would he buy it and keep it stowed away like buried treasure? Up until a few days ago, I would have thought the answer was a firm no.
Now…I’m not so sure.Chapter FiveNatalieOne thing I learned early on in medical school was to fake it till you make it. Not like fake it as a doctor—that’s illegal and I don’t recommend it—but I do recommend faking that you’re confident in your ability to be a doctor until you actually are confident.
My very first rotation as a resident was in this very burn unit. I woke up, brushed my teeth, and carefully combed my hair back into a ponytail. I practiced introducing myself as Dr. Martin in front of my bathroom mirror while affecting a stern yet approachable tone right up until it was time to leave so I could arrive at the hospital ridiculously early. Funny thing is, I didn’t even make it into the hospital before my job began. If there’s an emergency and you’re the resident on call, you’re the first person they call. Day one, hour one, I got a call from an EMT shooting me rapid-fire information about a patient at a scene then asking me what steps I’d like to take. What medications and what amounts. What type of salve to apply to the burns during transport to the hospital. Data swirled in my head—test-prep questions, fake scenarios. If Johnny has second degree burns covering 5% of his body, what time will the train arrive at the station? Suddenly, this was real life. A real child was depending on me. I froze, utterly terrified of even having to prescribe someone Tylenol, let alone handle a situation like this.
I learned quickly, though. The EMT shouted at me (rude, sure, but necessary) and I snapped out of my insecurity, going with my gut.
My gut was right, but only because I’d spent years teaching it to be right.
Today, it’s time to put that knowledge into action again.
The BICU is bustling with activity when I arrive. This week, with the start of the academic year, we have new medical and PA students rotating through plus a shiny new crop of residents thinking they’re hot shit. They’re all hovering in a loose group, twiddling their thumbs, looking for someone to lead them.
That someone is me.
I cut through the group to take my place in front of the nurses’ station—where we will all meet for rounds at 6 AM every day our name is printed on the schedule—and I’m prepared to address the group at large when a medical student near me leans over.
He has cropped hair, expensive tan loafers, and a fog of cologne that’s cutting off my airway.
“Hey, do you know who the new fellow is? We’re all waiting. Heard she’s pretty intense, expects us to pre-round by—”
By this point, his gaze has drifted down to the hospital ID clipped to the lapel of my white coat. His sentence cuts off sharply once he realizes who I am.
“Uh…”
He’s about to apologize, no doubt, but I look out at the group and start speaking.
“Good morning, everyone. I’m Dr. Martin. I’m one of the three fellows currently working in the BICU. As Dr. Bishop here was just explaining, you all will be expected to pre-round by 5:30 AM every morning. If that’s an issue, take it up with your preceptor. We’ll round again, as a group, at 6 AM. That group will include the attendings, nurses, OT, PT, and dietitians. Grand rounds will be on Thursday mornings. That’s when RT and child life join us as well. Does anyone have any questions?”
No one says a word.
I wave for them to follow me.
They line up like ducks in a row, feet shuffling, eyes laser-focused on me.
Only with my back to them do I inhale a long, steadying breath. I was nervous about this morning. Nervous about my age. About my appearance. Nervous it would be hard to get them all to take me seriously. One mistake and they’ll walk all over me.When I have a full day scheduled at the hospital, time flies. After rounds, I jump into my first case in the operating room, supervised by Dr. Garza. While I’m finishing up in there, another team is prepping my second case in a separate OR. In the locker room, between surgeries, I change out of my gown, take a bathroom break, put on new scrubs, and chug a Gatorade before scrubbing in for my second surgery of the day. All this happens before lunch. Burn surgeries are usually quick. We’re mainly removing healthy skin from a donor site on the patient and placing it on the injured areas that need it the most. Patients get a week to recover, and depending on how badly they’re injured, they might go back into the OR the following week, and so on, until they’re healed enough to be discharged out of the BICU.
