A special place

THIS IS corny: that OB-Gyn will always have a special place in my heart. I'm relieved that I don't have to report to the daily summary rounds or see vaginas bursting with bloody and watery vaginal discharge for the next few weeks. My two-month stint in the department ended yesterday, and those two months felt like forever.

I've been the OB liaison officer (LO) for three years—yes, since ICC—and I've developed a certain fondness for the fellows and especially the residents there. The OB rotation, as we claimed in the exit interview yesterday, is perhaps the most well thought out and organized of all the ones we've had in internship. The rhythmic rotations at the wards, OB Admitting Section and Labor and Deliver Room offered the chance for physical, mental, and emotional recovery. The stress had been worthwhile, and, boy, could the stress levels go to superhuman levels!

My personal goal for the rotation was to develop the skill of handling normal vaginal deliveries, a competency required and expected of every medical doctor. This wasn't easy to do in a tertiary referral center like PGH, where the cases seen are usually complicated by other diseases, and normal cases are hard to come by. If, in the future, I do find myself in an awkward situation—say, in a far-flung community with no midwives or lying-ins nearby—I can perhaps aid in the delivery, though I wouldn't be as confident. But maybe I've learned enough.

I have no dreams of becoming an obstetrician or a gynecologist. It's much too bloody, and I want to enjoy undisturbed moments of sleep or late-night reading when I get old. But I'm in awe of them, the people who have devoted themselves to the care of pregnant women.

A part of me will miss the adrenaline rush of the OBAS, the hyperestrogenic atmosphere during the conferences, and the horrified and excited look of would-be mothers whose waters just broke.

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