So what do you do?
I mean what’s your job, what do you do?
I am a pediatric intern.
That means I’m in my first year of postgraduate training following completion of medical school.
My job is to learn enough about pediatrics so that at the end of my three years of training I can practice on my own. Or go on to fellowship training if I so choose.
Most days I just try not to kill anyone.
Sometimes I’m in the newborn nursery. I get to examine new born babies and make sure they are healthy. I get to tell new parents all about the wonderful journey they are about to embark on.
Sometimes I’m in the NICU, where the new babies aren’t so healthy. I place umbilical lines, central lines, and sometimes intubate babies smaller than the palm of my hand. I get to make parent’s days when their baby finally gets to go home, but also sometimes break their hearts when the reality of how sick their child is sinks in.
I spend a lot of time on the inpatient wards, where it feels like all I do is write notes and get yelled at by parents frustrated by illness and a broken system. I treat a lot of asthma exacerbations, respiratory viruses, dehydration, and kids who need help pooping. I make a lot of what I think are well thought out plans and later learn exactly why they weren’t as well thought out as I thought they were. This leads to a lot of order changing and apologizing and hoping parents and nursing understand that I’m still a baby in terms of doctor years and am still learning. I sometimes get to do fun things like lumbar punctures. I once got to make the call to push adenosine on a patient in SVT and almost shit myself because I didn’t think cards would show up before the drug was given. On easy days I spend a lot of time chatting with kiddos about their hopes and dreams, on busy days I don’t get to do that as much and hope that my med student’s aren’t going home to blog about how they will never become as busy and jaded as their resident has become. Some days I feel confidant, like I’m actually getting the hang of this whole medicine thing. Other days I feel like a failure, even when a patient turing downhill isn’t my fault. Like the time I was in the middle of a rapid response when a code was called on another patient downstairs.
Sometimes I’m on the hemeonc floor, where I really appreciate the amazing resilience of kids as they run around, make friends, and eat pizza while we drip poison into their veins. I spend hours analyzing lab results and giving out nausea meds. I celebrate end of chemo parties and mourn battle losses, sometimes in the same day. I gave one girl a cancer diagnosis and watched her family fall apart over the course of her first admission, but I’ve also seen families become stronger through adversity.
Some days I’m in the emergency department. That’s my favorite place. I sew up wounds, mend broken bones, run all the lab tests, take all the images, and give all the medication. I see everything, from nose bleeds that stopped an hour prior to arrival to a six month old involved in a rollover collision that had to be flown in. Sometimes I get yelled at for wait times, but mostly I get thanked for helping someone feel better.
I also spend a lot of time in clinic, where I see kids from two days old to 19 years. I do a lot of well visits, where I chat with patients and parents to make sure everything is going okay and everyone is meeting their milestones. I also see a lot of colds and sore throats and allergies and pretty much anything you can think of that someone might see a doctor for. I give a lot of guidance about growing up, chat with teens about drugs and smoking, and spend a lot of time talking about mental health.
That’s pretty much what I do. It’s often stressful and I rarely get as much sleep as I want, but I wouldn’t do anything else.