Our Son

It was a Thursday 11th of November, when my wife's contractions started.  I had just gotten done helping bring a little girl into the world with illicit drug exposure and a concern for congenital syphilis.  I had to perform a lumbar puncture on her which went perfect.  I was just finishing patting myself on the back when she texted me, "My contractions are about 5 minutes apart.  I think I'm in labor, but don't come home yet cause I'm not sure..." Needless to say I called her right back. 

What I had always imagined in my mind was the typical "movie pregnancy" where suddenly dad gets a call at work and then there is a screeching of tires, maybe a hub cap lost in the hustle to get the wife and baby to the hospital before he/she delivers in the car, but life doesn't read from a script, just like medicine doesn't read from a manual.  What followed was a 2 day ordeal of driving Kate back and forth to the hospital (30 minutes away) each time thinking this would be the time, and each time being disappointed (she wasn't in active labor...just annoying labor ;P)

Through the grind of trying to induce labor with walking and all the false alarm OB visits, suddenly I found myself awaking to my wife's deep, fast breathing at 4 am on the 13th.  We had just visited the hospital 4 hours ago and been sent home, my wife had been sedated so she could sleep through the painful contractions, which despite being regular and painful were not progressing the labor as we would hope.  So I awoke in confussion to her breathing that was quite unnerving to me.  It certainly seemed like we needed to be hauling it to the hospital...but if that was the case why didn't she wake me up?!?!  I was groggily in the middle of processing this when she got up and went to the bathroom.  My thoughts were immediately shattered with the steel hammer of her yelling words, "We need to go!!!".  In shock and disbelief I gathered what few things wern't in the car and drove my wife as fast as safety would allow to the hospital.  It had been such a long labor even after she was admitted I didn't believe my son would be born until they ruptured her membranes (broke her water artificially).  My mind was in a haze as I watched it all happen, it seemed unreal that we were in labor, that our son was coming....OUR SON!!! Wow...

Things went great for the most part.  Kate got an epidural...which was awesome, for the first time in two days she was without pain and she actually smiled and joked between contractions and pushing.  At the very end of labor, my little guy's heart rate dropped and they had to use the vacume which was a little scary for us, as it's been associated with increased incidence of problems post labor (brain bleeds, etc.), but the little one came out quickly and it wasn't used much.  He did come out blue and floppy, which wouldn't worry a typical parent likely, but we knew that wasn't good.  They ran him quickly over to the warmer where I couldn't help but to go into doctor mode.  Luckily my skills weren't needed, as he quickly recovered and pinked up.  As a doctor you could almost be considered a professional student and as such I considered it an great honor to be the one to administer his first "test", his physical exam.  Most daddies look for 10 fingers, 10 toes...my son has red reflexs, stable hips, lacks a simian crease, has an intact palate, had a three vessel cord, and on and on and on...in short, save for a slight "friar tuck" bump on his head left by the vacume suction...he is perfect : D. 

His name is Brian Dexter.  Born on November 13th, 2010, he's named after my brother-in-law, Brian or "Bo", as we sometimes call him (We call this little one "Bode" for short). His middle name is an attempt to give him something unique like his daddy's, if he chooses to go by it, it's my hope that it will set him apart from the others at school, like mine did for me. We are so happy, so proud, and so very blessed.  Thank you so much God for this amazing blessing, our son Bode.

Newbie Dad

5 pounds 14 ounces at birth. Little guy but a whole lotta cuteness.  We love you buddy.

War and Peace

This blog is far less exciting than the title would suggest.

"If you want peace, prepare for war."

Regardless of whoever said this quote, his job and mine are similar in the fact that if we were to achieve our ideal our jobs would become obsolete.

You'll often here a similar sentiment batted around between health professionals without work (such as I right now). I'm sitting in a resident room, bored out of my skull, and part of me really would like a sick baby to be admitted...did I just say that?!?! Sometimes you'll hear the rationalization, "Well, there are going to be sick babies, they might as well be sick here."

Most likely the world is still filled with sick babies. Most likely they have chosen not to come here. I find myself as the steriotypical nieve, overly immature infantry man whose seen little or none of war. Although I've been told it's "bad" I'm so bored I can't help but wish for a little action (despite deep down knowing it to be horrible).

Newbie Doc

I'm having a tough time finding motivation to do anything, so I thought maybe you could share in this by checking out these demotivational posters that I googled. Cheers.

And some others I thought were funny...

These can be found at http://www.despair.com/.

Big Shoes

My wife is due any day now. It's a source of a lot of anxiety for us. We have her bag for the hospital packed and by the stares. It's a constant reminder that at a moment's notice I may have to pick it up and run. Being on the NICU right now is something of a worry for me, as there are times when I'm "THE" guy who takes care of the babies...but I've worked that out with my other residents and fellow nurse practitioners, who all agree that I shouldn't miss the birth of my son :P With all the bumps now seemingly smoothed out I feel like I'm riding a bullet trainl, speeding unimaginably fast towards something I can't possibly comprehend or imagine, something I know I'm not ready for yet...but I'll have to be.

The baby these days is really big. My wife has the cute pregnant woman "waddle" that one gets about 36-37 weeks gestation. Seems like I give her massages every second that I'm with her, she deserves them, between pregnancy and her rotation on surgery I doubt that I could fair even half as well. That little guy is so big when he kicks her it causes her stomach discomfort, so now she hardly lets me talk to him...especially if he is sleeping, she doesn't want me to disturb him...as she is the one that pays for it.

The other day while I was on call, I helped delivery a lady who was in the most excrutiating pain I've ever seen. I've seen a lot of deliveries at this point, but she was "exercism" mad/in pain. I really hope my wife takes an epidural, I don't want to see her like that, but if it happens it happens...right?

Every parent I talk to says its simultaneously the most exhausting and most rewarding thing you'll ever do. I thought I've been exhausted in residency, but this advice is coming from other residents...I'm really nervous for this...but at the same time I'm looking forward to it a great deal.

I imagine becoming a father is a lot like when I first became a doctor. I remember the first day, how nervous I was putting on that white coat...but you have to put it on anyway. You feel self conscious and undeserving of it for awhile, but as more and more work pile onto you, and greater and greater responsibilities get levied upon you that feeling fades and you grow into the role...not an immediate transformation as you'd secretly imagined in the back of your mind, but a slow process of growth that gradually fills the giant shoes you've been called to step into...shoes that I'm not even close to filling yet...suddenly I'm going to have two pairs that I'll have to wear at the same time...sounds combersome and uncomfortable...hope I can manage without tripping up to much...or falling flat on my face.

Newbie Doc

The Phantom Page

So at this point tonight I've already had two deliveries which were pretty much cake, both requiring very little from me. I'm a little less solo than I thought, turns out there is a nurse practitioner that stays here with me, she watched me like a hawk as I was running the last two, at the last one she told me, "Ok the next one is all you.", meaning she would only come if called...that made me nervous, so much so that after much tossing and turning I finally got to sleep...for like 5 minutes.

I heard my pager go off.

Suddenly I was fully awake. I jumped out of bed, through my shirt on, laced up my shoes, and jogged down to the delivery room...where there was nothing going on. I checked my pagers...was I dreaming? I still don't know, but the HUC (head unit coordinator) thinks I was cause they havn't heard of any babies being born. This often happens to me where I think I'm not nervous, say I'm not nervous, and for the most part act like I'm not...right up until the point when I imagine pages and jump at the slightest pager like noise.

Newbie Doc

The Night Owl

Today I find myself back in a NICU again, and today I experienced the same uncomfortable morning that I've come to expect when starting a new rotation, the feeling that you are in over your head.  Admittedly, it's not as bad since I have worked in the NICU once before, but it was a different NICU...which is like going to a different country and practicing medicine; sure both countries have similar forms of medicine (it's unavoidable because a human is a human is a human) but the protocols, guidelines, computer systems, and bureaucratics are completely alien to a newcomer. 

Another oddity of this NICU, which is particularly immigrant heavy, is that it currently is very quiet.  There are several theories to the cause of this, as NICUs are normally very busy, but the main two is that a lot of surrounding hospitals have opened level 1 and 2 NICUs of their own, stealing my patient population; the other theory involves certain legislation passed this year which is allegedly scaring away my "illegal" patients.  So I find myself on call, sitting, waiting for something to happen with a slight undercurrent of anxiety running through my brain.

While my patient load and patient complexity are likely to be lower than the previous NICU, I am at the same time, burdened by the fact that my attendings, at the end of the day, go home, leaving me to fend for myself.  If a child comes in overnight (which will eventually happen), it's me and only me delivering it.  Those infrequent nights (at the other NICU) of an attending not making it to the delivery room in time (leaving me to do it by myself) will likely become buisness as usual here.  I've heard previous interns who work here tell horror stories of having to run codes on kids by themselves.  I suppose at some point the little night owl gets kicked off his branch and must learn how to fly solo, but that doesn't mean I have to look forward to it.  Right now I'm standing on the branch, staring down at all the places I could go, and thinking about all the things that could happen...I'm hoping that when I do fly solo (be it tonight or some other dark night in the future) the weather will be clear, the luck will be abundant, and the ground will be soft : P. 

Newbie Doc