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Oliver
Fuck this day. It just keeps getting worse and worse. Having to be co-surgeons with James equals an automatic bad day, no matter what. That’s just how it is.
See, I’m sure James has his own made-up reasons for why he’s a dick to me. But none of his excuses are anything real.
The truth is that when I first transferred here, James immediately started hazing me. Like he had this preconceived notion that I wasn’t good at my job because I went to work at a small practice after residency instead of some big hotshot hospital.
He kept treating me like I was some intern that kept fucking everything up. For a long time, he wouldn’t let me have any surgeries. Which is why now, I make sure that I get to them first. I refuse to be treated less than- not when I graduated top of my class at Johns Hopkins, was the top intern my intern year, chief resident,andwas offered all the best fellowships.
Then there’s this dude over here who’s never even left the hospital he started at, like he’s scared that he won’t be good anywhere else. You ask me, the guy is overrated. Because of him, it took a year for the nurses and other staff members to trust me. He led them to believe that I was some crap surgeon who barely passed medical school.
It’s embarrassing, and certainly not at all what I thought my experience at this hospital would be. I give myself one more year of putting up with this shit, and then I’m gonna have to find somewhere else- somewhere I feel welcome and appreciated.
It’s been two years now- the hazing should be done by now. I don’t need a friend; I need my fellow cardiothoracic surgeon to trust me so that I can trust him back. In the OR, trust iseverything. Something James clearly hasn’t learned yet. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. I’m not sure which is worse.
At this point, there’s really nothing I can do. I’ve accepted that he’s just a dick who treats people like shit because of his own insecurities. In fact, I think the real reason he felt the need to haze me in the first place was because he was intimidated by how good I actually am. So I’ve chosen to just ignore him and do my job.
I usually do pretty good with ignoring him, but today? Today I’m done. It’s one thing to disagree with me out of the OR, or even in the OR- but when a patient is really and truly at risk and you just want to argue because you can’t accept that someone else might be right and you might be wrong? That’s just childish, and it makes you a shitty doctor.
And now, he’s driven ascrub nurseto jump in and interrupt us, which makes me livid. I mean, who does she think she is? I would be angrier with her, but there really isn’t time for that right now. See, I know how to put the patient first- no matter what’s going on in my life. So, I do as she says.
I close my eyes and take a couple of deep breaths. I go over everything that has happened very carefully in my head. Step by step, every move both of us has made. Replaying the moment just before the bleeder appeared over and over again.
I go through all of our options, trying to decide what will get us to our goal as quick as possible. If he’s right, and the bleeding will resolve itself- then I’ll look stupid. If he’s not right, and we wait- our patient will be dead in minutes.
I open my eyes seemingly at the same time as James. We look each other and nod. It’s now or never.
“Follow me carefully and closely with the suction. I’m going to retrace my steps, find the bleeder, and carefully patch it up. Should hold until the blood gets here, and then we can find a more permanent solution.”
We work quickly and effectively, without saying another word. I’m able to find the bleeder quicker than I thought I would. It wasn’t anything big, but I threw a quick patch on it just before the blood arrived, and we were able to stitch it back up and then continue with the surgery.
Another few hours later, and we’re finally done. No more complications occurred, and the surgery ended up a success. The patient moves to post-op, and we move to the scrub room.
As I’m scrubbing out, I remember the nurse. Looking over, I see that she’s at the scrub sink by door, finishing up. I look at James, who seems to have the same idea that I do.
See, even though she was right, and we did need to just close our eyes and think- we’re the surgeons. It was none of her business to butt in.Especiallyin a surgery that the Chief was watching every second of. She embarrassed both of us in front of him and everyone else in the OR and gallery.
I know that Ashley is one of the best scrub nurses in the cardio wing. She always knows what you want before you even ask for it. She’s quick, and she doesn’t ask a lot of questions. Ashley knows what she’s doing. But that doesn’t mean she gets to talk to the lead surgeons however she wants to, in front of everyone.
“Ahem.” I speak up.
Ashley is about to walk out the door.
“Ashley, can we have a word?”
She freezes and then slowly turns around to face us, a look of terror in her eyes. Is she really so ignorant that she thought she would just get away with this?
It’s weird being on the same side of something with James. We never agree on anything. But she embarrassed both of us, so I guess we’re on the same team now.
A small part of me wants to defend her against whatever he says, just to make him mad. But I guess I’ve already been spiteful enough today. After all, I did steal his lucky scrub cap out of the attendings lounge last night so that he couldn’t wear it today.
Why did I do that? Well, quite frankly- I think it’s stupid. A fucking scrub cap doesn’t change the outcome of your surgery. Skill, precision, and expertise, yes- those are definitely required. But a special scrub cap? That’s just childish to me.
I guess I wanted to show him that, although he didn’t even say anything about it. I guess he either didn’t notice, or I was wrong, and he just didn’t care.
I’m about to open my mouth to speak when James beats me to it. As always.
