#internyear

It feels surreal to be writing this. A few weeks ago I graduated, and it was like a switch flipped. My emails were suddenly addressed “Dr.”, people started referring to me as a physician, I showed up at my residency orientation and they handed me a long white coat. I know I have technically “earned” the title, but the truth of medical school is that the peak of my confidence was at the end of second year, and that the next two years only solidified that I knew so much and so little at the same time. I know that residency is sometimes a thing to be dreaded, but I also find it a comfort. If I had to practice independently right out of medical school I would be scared out of my mind.

I’m still scared out of my mind. The learning curve is steep, and it’s hard to fathom that patients will see me as someone knowledgeable and competent when I feel so undeserving of that assessment. I felt confident at the end of my second year of medical school because I had memorized the rules, but in reality the exceptions to the rules are vast, and there are so many rare “zebras” out there that you will certainly run into some of them. 

Still, it’s exciting to finally be here, and I can only hope and pray that my enthusiasm will outweigh my fear and stave off burnout for as long as possible. Fingers crossed.

I saw my psych yesterday and other than touching on how unloveable I believe myself to be, we spent a lot of time talking about everything going on at work. 

I’ve passed three of the five performance meetings now. Since being asked for specific examples as to why I shouldn’t pass my surgical term (against the intern criteria) he hasn’t been able to come up with a single example. I’ve stopped fighting him when he asks for unreasonable and impossible things and just nod. He told everyone how polite and lovely I am. I let him. Then when the meeting was done, I met privately with the HR lady and gave specific examples of his unreasonable requests. She was horrified.

The complaint that was lodged against me with the medical board has been partly reviewed. There are two agencies that handle those complaints. One agency reviewed the complaint and threw it out with the statement that if someone is a competent and safe practitioner who performs at their expected level, then there is no complaint. I was then contacted by the other agency who told me that I still need to meet with a psychiatrist tomorrow, but at this stage its become more about handling the stress of what the hospital has put me through rather than an assessment of whether I am safe to practice. Nothing is finalised yet, but after four weeks of hell I finally see a sliver of hope. Of course, there’s every chance I will go tomorrow and convince the psychiatrist I’m batshit insane, but I’m hoping that won't happen.

The person I spoke to at the medical board was quite open about the fact that my hospital is known for bullying, especially the surgical department, since a huge mediastorm at the start of 2019. Apparently there was zero surprise at their end regarding that, but lots of surprise at how little the hospital had done since to protect junior doctors from it.

My psychologist provided me with a letter to take tomorrow to the psychiatrist that basically states that crying is an appropriate response to bullying and she has no concerns about my personal well-being or my patients because, despite how shit the situation is, I am an incredibly resilient person who has coped with significantly worse and she has seen no signs I’m not coping. She also comes pretty close to calling the hospital incompetent and that this is a witchhunt because I dared raise concerns about the way I was being treated. 

My heart still hurts each and every time I think of the boy. This whole saga has been a nice distraction from the breakup, but then the weekend comes and I am without him again. I thought I would feel better by now, but this is still raw. It’s the most pain I’ve ever endured, but I’m coping okay

8 days of internship to go...

So that’s me. Wish me luck tomorrow... x