I am watching Grey’s Anatomy in French. Because it isn’t on in English. And reruns are awesome. And I need to get my French back. And I should be working on a presentation.
The show drives me crazy sometimes. Because people put on hats and masks before scrubbing. And you can’t just go into ORs all willy nilly. And they mispronounce medical terms. And the number of times the residents break laws and rules and somehow keep on training. Not to mention the odd volume of disasters that fall upon them. And then there is the whole soap opera thing…. Though, that part isn’t always entirely unrealistic.
But, this episode is an old one. And for whatever reason, George is being Meredith’s Christina and Meredith is being George’s Izzy. Now, it sounds silly, but when you have a “person,” someone that you go to about icky life stuff and work stuff and the sort, you really miss them when something is happening that you can’t talk to them.
I am lucky enough to have a lot of people. I have some people who are everything people, but sometimes work, especially in medicine, you need a special person. Someone who may not have always been your everything person.
When I started medical school, I knew nobody. I made friends. And a couple of them became my people. They didn’t replace the friends I had before, but they were the go to people for all things medicine related and life related, as the two meet often. As much as my normal people are still my people for everything, there is something about the medicine people. They just get it. The demands, the culture, the atmosphere. It makes sense to them.
One of my medicine people and I shared a locker. We would leave encouraging notes on bad days or excited notes on good days. Nothing is better than saying things like “Woo babies!” Or, “The surgeons will love you despite your lack of coordination because you are otherwise a superstar.” And one can’t forget the classic, “I am going to die,” “No you are not,” conversation. We hardly saw each other because we were on different rotations, but we still managed to get together when we needed to, even if it was just on the locker room floor.
Since moving, I realize how much I miss my medicine people. Because they are my friends. And because I miss that relationship. We still text, but it isn’t the same. Our hours are different. Heck, our time zones are different. I feel like I don’t have someone locally who gets the whole medicine thing. I miss having that person to rant about call and who understands why someone not completing a med reconciliation on a very sick patient is a pain in the neck for you to get when you start call and how I can’t seem to figure out get on even a decent side of one of the floor nurses.
I get sympathetic ears. Sometimes Patrick tries to pretend to be a medicine person. But, it isn’t the same. I miss my people. Because the understanding is more inherent in some ways.
My residency program is really small. I like it that way. Already, I feel like I know the others fairly well. And will get to know them better. That works, especially given I am used to small programs. I think they will make great medicine people. It just takes time.
On the other hand, sometimes it is good to have people who are way outside of a situation to talk to. You get a more unbiased view. I am grateful to have a heap of outside people. Who admittedly don’t get it, but who try. And call me out when I get too lost in the world of medicine. And hold me accountable in all kinds of aspects of life.
But really, I think medicine people are important. You need that time together. Maybe not in a room with coma guy (I love that plot line, by the way), but perhaps sitting on the locker room floor, or auditorium stairs. Those bits of time and those friendships help to get you through.