Third Spacing

Call Home

Had call over the weekend on Friday.  So when I might get called into the hospital, and I'm sitting at home next to my phone, I might as well be in the hospital.  Or maybe Egypt.  I'm of no use to anyone, at all.  I pace the floor, I pace the internet.  I can't focus on my kids or on my husband.  I'm third-spacing my thoughts, which means my brain is in the jet stream of collective consciousness located between the hospital and my house. 

My family naturally reacts to this by trying to pull me in even more directions.  When the resident calls me to report on a patient in triage, GB takes the opportunity to talk to me THE ENTIRE TIME I'm on the phone.  When I try to read online about a patient, Beastie sits on my computer, or my head.  Cats do this, too, you know.  It's their way of ensuring world domination.  Or trying to connect with you.

 

Being on call is like the opposite of connection.  It's about being available, for anything to do with patient care, anytime.  Whereas connection is really about being unavailable to everyone except the One you're connecting with.  The more you're trying to connect with someone the less available you are to other people.  But if you need to be ready for anything, best get the phones and the computers all lined up in front of you and stare blankly into space.

It would be nice to go for a run and get all that distracted energy out, maybe then focus and be more grounded for whatever the night holds.  But I can't run while I'm on call and still be within 20 minutes of the tower of doom.  Unless I run TO the hospital.  Yeah, that would be awesome.  I could show up for delivery in scrubs and sweatbands.  Maybe they make scrub shorts or running scrubs.

Went to sleep at 11 after had read everything on the internet.  The kids were still up wrestling or snorkeling or something.  At 2:30 got called for a multip presenting in labor at 6cm.  Ah, finally.  Now I could go to the hospital and Do Something.  Showed up and peered over the resident's shoulder while she wrote progress notes.  Another multip arrived and delivered right after I got gloves on.  See, this is why people are on call.  To be Available to Do Things like Hand People Their Babies.  The rest of the night was spent waiting for the first woman to deliver, and hanging out with the resident.

The resident recently went through a divorce.  We talked about relationships within medicine.  She'd read in a book that when you're in medicine you're always working toward the next thing.  When you're done with medical school, things will be better.  When residency's done things will change.  If you can just get through this rotation, or call night, then your life can begin.  But relationships aren't like that.  There's no "goal."  There's no point at which you've arrived.  Nowhere does love just get easier.  And if you keep putting your love on hold or trying to work toward some "goal," things will just fall apart.

That explains a lot.

Are medicine and family even compatible?  At one point I would have said absolutely not.  At one point not so long ago I thought I was going to have to choose, and that I might lose both. 

Now I think there need to be boundaries.  When I'm at work I need to focus on work.  When I'm home I should not also be at work.  Instead I need to be fully present at home.  But then what about home call?  This is a contradiction in terms, methinks.  It's going to take a while to sort out. 

And then, maybe when I sort it out, my life will FINALLY get easier...