July in the hospital means one thing: new interns. It's common knowledge that going to the hospital in July is risky business. I know the new interns are here because I can hear the staff complaining. Every third sentence starts, 'Those dumb interns... *sigh*!' To everyone out there bitching about the interns' growing pains, I'd like to say this: STFU!
When I was a new intern, I caught flack from everyone: my attending, my senior, RN's, PCT's, MA's, RT's, EMT's, PT's, OT's, case managers, and even some custodial staff (strangely enough, I never heard a bad word from social work or nutrition...). I discovered one universal truth to being an intern in July: no one has your back.
My intern hell continued until my ICU month. Nurse Battle Axe was taking care of one of my patients. BA had been doing critical care since I was in diapers. The amount of critical care knowledge she would lose in a particularly violent sneeze was still more than I knew. So, when she asked me a question, I assumed it was rhetorical.
"I asked, 'What do you want to do, doctor?'" she repeated. My patient had a blood pressure of 70/30 despite aggressive hydration. I had no clue what to do. So, I sat down and thought about it, and after a little soul searching, I decided to start a pressor.
"Um, can we start dopamine? ... please?"
"Sure, doc!" she replied, and walked into the room, pushed a button on an IV pump, and dopamine was in. BP improved to 90/60. Mission accomplished.
Later, I thought about it, and she must've had the dopamine hung already and the line primed. But she let me make the call. I asked her about it, and she told me, "Dr. ifinding, you know I've always got your back!"
Part of being an intern is painful, and that's just how it is, but it certainly doesn't have to be more painful than it already is. So take it easy on the interns, huh? Or at least don't badmouth them to their face.
