#clerklife

This was written roughly a year ago as an Obstetrics - Gynecology (OB) Clinical Clerk.

Our rotation in the department of obstetrics and gynecology entails a fifteen - day rotation at Baguio General Hospital (BGH) – of which has an undisputed reputation of toxicity. ‘Toxic’, as in, ‘maraming patients, maraming ginagawa’, which roughly translates to an exhausting rotation. BGH is a public hospital, there’s no doubt that most Filipinos will opt to go there. What frightened me the most is that if I rotated there, I wouldn’t be able to handle the workload. I was scheduled to rotate there in September, and so I went for endorsement during the last week of August. But even if I had already been endorsed with the work, I still got anxious when I thought about having my duties there. On the day before rotating at BGH, I was already having separation anxiety with my dearest co clerks, interns and even the quarters. I told them, they knew, but nothing could stop time as it ticked to 6am of September 01, 2018. My duty partner and I said our goodbyes and gave our hugs as we left the base hospital.

We arrived there a little over 6:30 am. We were early, and I was anxious. I was so anxious that I already slipped into my scrubs, which was uncalled for because we still had an orientation. I went inside the delivery room (DR) not knowing something horrific was about to happen. I was greeted by a woman being rushed and being labelled as a ‘Direct DR’. I witnessed how fast the baby’s head popped out of the mother’s vagina as soon as the stretcher was in the delivery room. When the baby was delivered, I headed straight back to the quarters and changed into my uniform, that was too much to see for a first day and being on a “from duty” status. I felt terrible. I felt I couldn’t do what my co clerks have done. I wanted to go back, but it was not going to happen. And for me, that was just the start.

My first ever Duty status fell on a Monday. We started the day with a conference, where I was assigned to discuss the history of a patient preoperatively. To cut it short, it didn’t end well for me, because I accidentally said the word complex hyperplasia without atypia, when the term has been obliviated. I got screwed by not only the resident, but of course by the consultants. It was devastating, it was only my first day and that happened. But again, it was only the beginning. We were 4 members in our duty group, 2 from our school and 2 from another. I wanted to get the feel of delivering a baby so right after the conference, I went to the delivery room and assisted a resident delivering a baby. Everything went so fast, all I could remember was the resident in a dress, draped with a gown and was teaching me how to make an inverted T – suture.  I sutured the skin, and the resident was so kind in teaching me how to. Then night came. It was 12 am and I decided to take a nap. Our quarters was small, cramped up, used not only by clerks, but also interns and nursing students. I took a nap in the conference room instead and woke up with an achy back because the bench I slept in was made of wood, and was hard. Morning came, and there was no time to buy breakfast or even eat breakfast. I only ate ensaymada that time, and after which came a 5 - hour long extrafascial hysterectomy. I went home hungry and frustrated, wishing somehow I would be back at our base hospital. Nothing is more comfortable than home and I considered our base hospital as home. Food was not a problem, we have our own quarters to sleep in and most of all, not as much patients as a public hospital. I was in my comfort zone, until I went to BGH. I was so frustrated and told my intern that I wanted to go back, and with her knowing there was nothing else left to do but to face the challenge, she told me, “Enjoyin mo lang”. Just enjoy the experience? I don’t even know how and where I would start enjoying it. It felt like hell, and that I would die of 15 days just being there.

Then came the phase where I learned to adjust. I don’t know how I did it, but I got used to the harsh and unfavorable living condition a public hospital had to offer. Then suddenly, morning by morning, I enjoyed delivering babies, attending to operations, and getting exhausted at the end of the day. Maybe it was the sense of fulfillment after a tiring 36 - hour duty? Maybe it was the people who I was around? Maybe it was because I felt more of a doctor than the past 3 months? For the record, it was because of the sense of fulfillment the experience gave.  Cutting to the last 5 days, I realized I didn’t want to go back, because I was already happy being there. I looked and felt ridiculous. I was tired, but I was happy. I might not have enjoyed all the days I spent, but I did for most of it – and that’s what matters most. I was never that blissful in my entire life and I realized that maybe I was growing, growing into the doctor that I wanted to be, a real instrument of care. Towards the end, my complaints lessened, felt more passionate and things just got better.