Monday, March 17, 2008

Who am I?

I just got home from the hospital and its 4am. The reason I am not snuggled in my bed is because I got thinking about how I portray myself to others. There was a time, a loooooong time, when I really cared about how others perceived me. Mostly like a moron, I know, but the point is that it bothered me that many people thought I was a moron.

Now that I am where I am, I don't care. I really don't. But I wonder if I should. I think I am part 12 year old boy and it's trying really hard to come out. There is a new show on Discovery Health about three female OB/GYNs who trained together and now practice together in LA. I have watched a couple of the episodes and thought, "That's totally me!!! They stole me and my partners! We were them first!" Except not really. All of the them are articulate and put together. I am not. I can sound pretty smart if I really really try. The thing is, I AM pretty smart. But when I am relaxed and talking without thinking I sound like a 12 year old boy. From the hood.

Example: coming out of the a patient's room, I was holding a glass slide a heading towards the microscope to examine it. The charge nurse looked up and asked me what I was holding. Immediately I said, "Cooter Juice."

Whyyyyyy??????

Easily could have said, "ruling out rupture of membranes" or "checking for ferning" or something professional. But nooooooooooo. I said "Cooter Juice." And yes. With capital letters, like it was an official medical term.

I feel..... not bad at all. But, I know that I have shamed my family (by family, I mean husband who works in the same hospital)

I routinely go to work with no make up and in scrubs. On the one or two occasions that I see my husband at work, he always tells me I look a mess. He never goes to the hospital without dressing in at least business casuals, even on weekends or ungodly hours of the night.... just in case. I think that I have run to the office in my pajamas to grab paperwork.

Professionalism is important. As a doctor, I know how important it is for my patients to have confidence in my abilities. I will never show up to work in ripped jeans with a hot pink thong peeking out from my plumber's crack. I will never use dirty curse words in front of my patients. I will never consciously walk around with my fly open and boogers on my face. But I suppose I need to find a balance between the pimple faced adolescent and the specialty trained surgeon in me. So next time my answer to the charge nurse will be, "I am checking for presence of amniotic fluid in this Cooter Juice."