Sunday, November 6, 2011


I'm currently on my OB/Gyn rotation. I don't want to say this too loudly, but I actually really like this rotation. I've always said that there was no way in hell that I'd do OB. For some demented reason, we used to watch A Baby Story on TLC during lunch in college. I'm not sure why we did that because I was always about 4 seconds away from losing my Baja Bingham quesadilla.

I very much prefer the OB part to the Gyn part because babies are much cuter than vaginas, even when they're all covered in ick and are screaming bloody murder. So who knows, maybe I'll end up as an OB and I'll finally get an excuse to use my Gone With the Wind material (I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' babies!)

C-sections are crazy. They make this 6 inch incision on your abdomen and cut through all the tissue until they hit the uterus. They rupture the membranes carefully with the scalpel and this big gush of blood and amniotic fluid comes gushing out in a mini tidal wave.  Meanwhile the assisting physician keeps one eye on the tummy and the other on my skin color to see if I'm going to pass out or throw up while reminding me that if I feel sick to please puke away from the sterile field. I'm too preoccupied with figuring out how they're going to get that 8 pound baby out of that tiny hole to feel sick. A little foot pops out of the incision, because this is a breech delievery. The obstetritian grabs hold, fishes around for the other foot inside, grabs it too and then just begins to yank. Hard. All I can think is thank goodness that mom and dad are safely behind the blue curtain because this guy is going to rip this brand new baby's head off trying to get it out of it's little cocoon and why did you not just make a longer incision? I'd rather have a bigger scar than a baby missing a limb or two. Jeeze.

Vaginal deliveries are better, as long as mom got an epidural, otherwise the screaming is not okay.

Blowing the lid off the vagina.
Vaginas are weird. I'm just saying. I would consider being an OB/GYN if it weren't for the gyn part. The OB part is great because at least at the end of all the blood, guts, and a million pelvic exams, you get a cool prize. My attending doesn't see a lot of OB patients anymore, which is a pity, because I love those visits. They're my favorite ones because if its early enough in the pregnancy I don't have to stick my fingers in a stranger's hoo-ha and poke around and we all come out winners. Instead, I get to feel a pregnant belly for a baby head and then I get to use the fetal heart monitor to hunt around for the heart beat and we all stand around for a minute listening to the pitter-patter of a healthy baby heart and everyone is happy.
In gyn appointments I listen to 80 year old women ramble about how they're sure that cyst "down there" is actually a tick that's been causing her foot cramps. And I have to hear the word "discharge" which is something I never want to talk about. And if I have to hear the phrase "You're due for your yearly mammo" one more time, I might have to scream. Mammo sounds like some sort of maternal summo wrestler or a hippo or something. Although, these patients are more likely to bring me cookies for some reason, and I like cookies. So I can't completely look a gift horse in the mouth, or a gift hippo, as the case may be.

Why NJ is weird:

1. You are not legally allowed to pump your own gas.
2. People like to key your car when it has out-of-state license plates because they're dicks.
3. The mall has a kiosk that sells fruits and vegetables.
4. An inordinate number of people wear fanny packs, and they're not tourists.
5. I just saw someone in the mall bathroom wearing stir-up pants. Dear God, the Eighties, they are back.