"The worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. And you will eat your toast. And you will drink your tea."
-Rhian Ellis, "After Life"
onlybyexample-deactivated202302
“Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.”—John Wesley
Figured I should at least document this somewhere. Twitter feels too public now (don't know why I'm gatekeeping my experiences lol)
Made my first incision for LSCS on the 10th. Stood on the right side and all, Dr Singh even made SN Nilar push the trolley to my side. I incised the layers one by one, up to the uterus, then Dr Singh took over. I took a little longer than his usual cutting time I think, oops. In my defence, the patient was on the obese side so the there was a thick yellow subcut fat layer.
Throughout the op we kept switching sides (don't know if this adhering to the sterility-OT-rule), but it was really amazing. Surprisingly my hands didn't shake at all, that would've been embarassing. He delivered the baby and placenta out, put the first suture on the uterus and gave me the needle holder to continue. He was patient enough to guide me through it. Took me double his usual time, oops #2.
I did half of the uterus and he completed the rest of it. He passed the needle holder again for the second layer, and the peritoneum. I did complete both happily.
Didn't have the guts to do the pds to skin because his has always been perfect —linear, like the whole extraction of baby didnt happen through the whatever line you can see, its subcuticular so the suture is invisible. The ‘line’ is the only thing the patient can see, so it's best to leave it to him and his skills. Lools.
Cleaned the OT and brought in the second patient for transvaginal myomectomy. Couldn't see much of whats happening internally, but he did say the peduncle was huge, thick. He twisted it with a forceps (something smaller than a wrigley's but of a similar design ¿ i think) and that thing came out with a few twists.
"Well-groomed girls frightened me to death. I didn't like to even go near them, for fear I would be smelly. I felt there was a radical difference, between them and me, as if we were made of different substances. Their cool hands did not mottle or sweat, their hair kept its calculated shape, their underarms were never wet—they did not know what it was to have to keep their elbows pinned to their sides to hide the dark, disgraceful halfmoon stains on their dresses—and never, never would they feel that little extra gush of blood, little bonus that no Kotex is going to hold, that will trickle horrifyingly down the inside of the thighs. No indeed; their periods would be discreet; nature served and did not betray them. Nor would my coarseness ever be translated into their fineness; it was too late, the difference lay too deep for that."