After a traumatic 9 months in Acute Elderly Medicine, I have now rotated to Surgery. At first, the transition was hard. I really did not want to let go of the Elderly medicine team or the patients. Even though my list had been truly relentless and breaks had become a luxury, these wards were my ghetto. Lots of tears, joy and frustrations had been shared and in the end, there was a sense of camaraderie amongst the team. Never the less, I was dragged out of my comfort zone. Goodbye Elderly Medicine. I will miss you.
It's strange on Surgery. I only have one ward to cover instead of 5. I've had time to sit for lunch AND have a tea break. I don't know what to do with myself, so I talk about work because I am so used to working every single minute of the day. My new friendly colleagues tell me to shut up and stop talking about work.
My first access visit. I should have known by the ominous sign 'there is trouble here' on the letter box that this is not going to go well. But because I'm brave, I open the door anyway where I am greeted by a pungent stench. In short, the house is a tip and why is everything brown?! I conclude that it is not poop, so I venture in deeper but make a mental note to burn everything I am wearing when I get out. I see cat toys, cat food and cat beds but no cat. Where is the cat! I am scared to open each door I come across because I really don't want to find a dead cat. We make our way upstairs and I am looking at the bed. It is the oldest thing I've seen (yes even older than the things I've seen on elderly medicine). The mattress is held together by masking tape. Common sense tells me that this bed is way past its due date. Stupidity gets me kneeling on the bed to take a measurement just in case. We do what we need to do and we leave in record time. Once safely in the car, we spend a good 5 to 10 minutes lathering hand sanitiser all over ourselves.
My first multidisciplinary team (MDT) meeting with the new team. New doctors, new nurses, new physiotherapists and new assistants. It's going well but I realise I can't stop scratching my ankles, back or belly. In fact, I come to the realisation that I haven't stopped scratching since returning from that access visit. I excuse myself from MDT to go to the toilet. I lift my tunic top and to my horror I discover red bites all over my body. I count 30 on my stomach alone. In a panic, I rush back to MDT and lift my tunic top to expose the horrible red bites to everyone for a diagnosis. We have only just met, but nothing says 'intimate' like lifting your top to the team.
Welcome to Surgery!
