Interns Grow Up. Hopefully.

I realized that I never told you about baby E's birth. Well, that's a long story, but I do want to tell you about the MD who delivered baby E. Because yesterday I went to a new MD to establish care and that visit reminded me of his delivery.

For the majority of the time R was in labor, we only saw the nurses. I'm fairly certain this is common. Fortunately, the main nurse was also a CNM (certified nurse midwife). She was lovely. Very compassionate, not weird-acting at all. Our situation was (still is) uncommon and was, apparently, quite uncomfortable for many people, because lots of people acted super awkward throughout our stay. Not unkind, mind you, just awkward. They didn't know who to talk to, so often spoke only to one of us, ignoring the other. I certainly preferred that if they were only going to talk to one of us, that it be R, since, you know, she was the one having the baby and all. But it didn't always work that way.

Also, E was born, you may remember Sept 25th. August is when teaching hospitals get new batches of brand-spanking new residents. Typically, they're called interns their first year of residency. I don't know why. And, generally speaking, August and September have the highest mortality rates in teaching hospitals. I'll leave it to you to put two and two together on that one.

So, it was time for R to deliver this baby. She asked me to remain in the delivery room. Her mom was also there (on the phone with a friend of hers, who she put on speaker phone; this was super annoying to all of us in attendance). Hubby and the agency case worker are in the waiting room. In come a group of people. At the time, I had no idea who they were. I now, after working in this same hospital, realize they were the team of residents, sans their attending (as is typical).

The resident who apparently drew straws to delivery baby E looked like she was about 16 (she was probably about 26), and about to vomit. She stood in the middle of the room looking around like a little kid in a crowd who has just realized she's lost her mommy. The nurse said, "it's time". The resident then took on the look of a deer in the headlights. She was just that still, too. This was about the moment I started to get a little concerned. But I was then distracted by the yelling on the speaker phone of R's mom's friend ("push, baby girl, push"; never mind it wasn't time to push).

The nurse finally had to grab the resident by the arm and tell her to focus and get dressed (gown, gloves, etc...). I think the nurse had had enough of the resident's stupidity, because she then just about put the shoe cover things on the resident because she was (still) standing there about-to-pee-herself scared.

Essentially, the resident did nothing but stand at the end of the bed and catch E. (Though I suppose that's kind of the MD's job in an uncomplicated delivery) R did all the work, with a lot of direction from the nurse and a bit of support from me. I swear, I saw the resident shaking she was so freaked out.

I didn't see her again until 2 days later.

A girl I worked with at the time was in labor the room next to the one E was born in. I went over to see her. And in the room was the resident. She looked at me in shock. I smiled and explained that the mama-to-be, in this case, was my friend and I had no intentions of parenting her baby. I don't think she believed me. I think she thought I was soliciting for all the babies.

Cue yesterday, at my MD appointment. It was a new MD, because, well, the last one wasn't a pleasant experience. Now, I went to this particular practice when I was a kid, really, until about 8yrs ago, when I had bad experiences with the residents two visits in a row that completely turned me off of ever going back. But, this practice is now a 60sec walk from my office (one floor up and just down the hall), and I'd heard great things about Dr V. And I was definitely in the market for a new MD.

First, a medical student walks in. Now, I'd told them when I scheduled the appointment that I would not be seeing any residents or students. They said that wasn't a problem. So I wasn't thrilled to see him in the first place. Then he acted like I'd just kicked his puppy or his grandmother when I told him that I wouldn't be seeing him. He was all, "but normally I don't even tell people I'm a student because I don't want them to be able to refuse to see me". And I was all, "uh, I think you have to tell people you're a student in case they want to refuse to see you. And the fact that you're about 11yo makes it obvious, dude". And he was all, "look how charming I am? You know you want to talk to me". And I was all, "you're not charming. I don't want to see you". And he was all, "I'll make a pouty face and then you'll see me". And I was all, "Get the eff out".

So, finally, Dr V comes in. And we briefly talk about why I'm there ("What? Periods every 21 days? that sucks. Do you want a flu shot?" "Uh, yeah it sucks. I don't want your flu shot"). She asks how old the boys are. I tell her. She asks whether either of them were born at this hospital. I tell her E was. She asks when. I tell her. She tells me she remembers in her very first month on OB there was an adoptive mom who was going to breastfeed and that I look familiar and she's pretty sure she delivered E. facepalm She is the nervous resident who had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
1. This makes me fell very old.
2. This does not make me fell much better about my visit with her as she's only been done with residency for a year.
3. I remembered that shortly after E was born, I happened to overhear the nurses talking about what a clueless incompetent idiot they thought she was.
4. I have to remind myself that it would probably not endear me to her were I to tell her what a bumbling idiot I - and the nurses - thought she was. Also, it just wouldn't be nice.
5. Damn, it's a small world.


Today's Lesson: I don't have great luck with doctors. I just don't.