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charge nurse saunters into my room and politely mentions, "I hate to
be the bearer of bad news but … it's not looking good today." Great.
What else do you want to say to brighten my spirits? Never mind that
the last patient didn't tell anyone they had aspirin this morning and
their surgery looked like a scene from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Never mind the instruments for the last case are so old the tray is
labelled in Latin, or that it looks like Nanook of the North engineered
the drill guide. Not to mention, there's no suture retriever. I was
reduced to grasping suture arthroscopically with a crochet hook.
Afghan, anyone? The mere mention of "going across the street" to the
hospital generates a few PVCs in my chest. There, the purported 5
p.m. start time is always bumped by the small bowel obstruction or
open femur fracture du jour. Besides, it's too cold to go outside!
• Hate mail. This is the true post-mortem. In the event of any indiscre-
tion whereupon I ran past the 5:30 p.m. witching hour, a panoply of
hate mail ensues the next day. Numerous charges against me are
levied to the effect of "You promised you would finish on time!" to
"You are generating extra expenses!" to even "Did you get your license
back?" It's times like these when I recall the words of the late Rodney
Dangerfield: "I get no respect."
Brotherly love
Like any new endeavor, the surgicenter is indeed a work in progress. I
am certain that in time the kinks will be resolved and end times will
become much more compatible with predictions. In the meantime, I
have trained my identical twin brother (good-looking guy) to run my sec-
ond room. He is a lawyer, but boy he does a wicked good cuff repair! OSM
Dr. Kelly (johndak4@gmail.com) is an orthopedic surgeon/sports-
shoulder specialist who practices in Philadelphia, Pa.
