A while back, I was working with a spine surgeon I get along with really well. He likes to use the microscope, so as we got started, I began telling him the story of my very first experience working with the microscope and how badly it went.
If you’re not familiar with it, the microscope we use in surgery comes in on an arm and the sort of hovers over the surgical field. It is draped out in sterile fashion, and there are eyepieces, both for the surgeon on his side and for the assist on the opposite side. So you have this giant microscope wrapped in sterile plastic.
That fateful day, my morning case was canceled for some reason, and I was in the library (working on PAER stuff, I’m sure). I got a call:
“Can you come help Dr. X? His PA is running late and won’t be here in time for his case.”
“Of course, happy to,” I reply. I’d never worked with DR. X, but I was sure he’d be thrilled for ANYONE to show up at this point.
As luck would have it, one of my favorite scrub techs is in the room. Perfect, somebody to watch out for me.
I always think of Happy Gilmore at times like this. The scene when he meets his caddy for the first time.
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“Mr. Gilmore, I’m your caddy,” says the young man as he’s trying to take the golf bag from Happy.
“No, no, let me carry those. They’re my grandfather’s, they’re pretty old,” says Happy as he pulls the bag out of the boy’s hands.
“What should I do then?”
“I don’t know, maybe you could just watch me and make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”
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I say hello to everyone in the room and head out to scrub. I go back in, grab the suction, and take a look through the microscope. Only I can’t see much of anything. I see a kind of blurry blotch that is probably the incision. I see some movement which must be Dr. X. I can suction a little, but not much more.
I’m looking at this awful view. I can’t see anything, and I’m trying to figure out why anyone would want to use this thing. It was awful. The people who like it are always going on and on about how great you can see.
I can’t see anything. This totally sucks.
About 15 minutes go by like this before the tech notices what’s going on. She laughs. Out loud. Laughs.
The microscope drape is perforated at the eyepieces. She pulls that off for me. She then motions me over and has the circulator tear off the eye shield attached to my mask. Two layers of plastic out of the way and the view is amazing!
She got me all squared away, and we went back to work (laughing) She couldn’t believe I had lasted that long, but I didn’t know any better.
Realize that when you’re new or trying a new skill, you’re not supposed to know what to do. It’s supposed to be hard. That’s ok. You’re not going to learn surgery during an 8-week rotation. You’re not going to be a clinical fox the first week you’re on the floors. Your job is to keep an open mind, laugh a lot, and learn. Don’t get too frustrated.
Lots of students are terrified about their first job (and you should be), but no one should expect you to fly the plane on day one. You’ll be just fine as long as you keep a positive attitude and keep learning.
Okay, enough about me. Let’s talk about you. Specifically, let’s talk about you learning what you need to pass your exams. You need an open mind, someone to teach you, and a copy of The Final Step.
Grab your copy here:
Brian Wallace