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Posts Tagged ‘surgeon’

As I was entering the surgical center where I do cataract surgery, I was greeted by a sign on the door to the locker room . . .

rules

If you follow my blog with any regularity–or my new sister blog, The Silence Dunwell Letters–you know that I am a bit of a cynic when it comes to arbitrary regulations–rules that seem to be in place only to justify someone’s job–proof that they are doing their job, even if it isn’t very well.

So apparently these rules are designed for VENDORS.  I’ve always known them as sales reps, but tomato, to-mah-to.  Vendors makes me think they’re selling hot dogs or drinks.

dr-pepper-vendor

SO CLOSE!  Red Cap, but not BOUFFANT!

Red Bouffant Cap.  I’ll come back to that.  You know that I will.

Badge clearly visible.  Good rule.  No problem with that.

Current with requirements.  I have to maintain my license.  I don’t have a problem with everyone else in the operating room maintaining their credentials.

Long sleeve warm-up jacket?  What about summer time?  Is it possible the coach may want to put you in the game, so you better keep your arm warm?  There may be a good reason to require this, but I have FAILED to come up with any remotely logical reason to make this a requirement.  Leave me a comment if you think of something.

NO UNDERSHIRTS.  Seriously?  How will you know if they are wearing one under the already mandated LONG SLEEVE WARM-UP JACKET?  Are you [bleeping] kidding me?  Who’s going to inspect for this?  Do they have to undergo strip searches for illegal under garments?  Can anyone show me a medical study that even remotely suggests that the undershirts of non-operating personnel worn underneath an official warm-up jacket have been shown to increase the surgical infection rate?  Anyone?  McFly?  We are just a few sieg heils away from regulating the type of socks and underwear we use.  Oh wait, I think they do regulate the type and color of socks and shoes of the nursing personnel.

UPMC stands for U People Must Comply.  We will wear only their scrubs and have no other scrubs before thee.  We are the Stepford Doctors.

Shoe covers?  Not a problem for me.  As long as I can wear whatever shoes I want underneath.

And no problem with requiring that visits be scheduled.  We don’t want the operating room to resemble a flea market or bazaar.

But . . .

redcap

What in the wide, wide, world of medicine prompted this fashion faux pas?  I searched high and low but couldn’t find the big red noses or the clown shoes to go with them.  What are they vending?  Happy Meals?

I will assume–always an unwise thing to do, but this is my blog dammit–that they want these “people” to be readily visible.  Mission accomplished.  You could pick them out from a satellite image.  I guess the ID badges are simply not enough.

Seriously, is this necessary?  For the record, we never had RED CAPS before, so now we are spending health care dollars on this fabulous headwear.  (Hashtag #whyamericanmedicineisgoingtohellinahandbasket)

In all my years as a surgeon, I have never had an instance where there was someone in my operating room that I did not know, or was not introduced to (such as a nursing student, inspector, repairman, etc.)  And if there was someone in my room and I do not know why they are there— I ASK WHO THEY ARE AND WHY THEY ARE THERE.

I don’t depend on the color and coordination of their outfit to satisfy my curiosity.

Because any idiot can put on a red cap.  I did.  I wore that thing all day!  I’m operating and I’m vending!  Oh, I’m vending, Jerry.  I’m vending!  And I hear that UPMC allowed a VENDOR to perform surgery!  (Psst.  It was just me.  In the red hat.  Don’t tell.)

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Money4Nothing

That ain’t Twerking . . .That’s the way you DO it!

And my chicks for free!

The Daily Post asks . . . If you’re like most of us, you need to earn money by working for a living. Describe your ultimate job. If you’re in your dream job, tell us all about it — what is it that you love? What fulfills you?

For those of you who follow my blog, you know that I am, by profession, an ophthalmologist.  An eye doctor/surgeon.  And while I do like my job–I really enjoy giving cataract surgery patients the gift of better sight–there are certain things about my job I do not like.

I really do not like our government and its bureaucratic intrusion into my practice.  I wish they would just leave me alone to do what I was trained to do.  Dealing with insurance companies makes me want to stick needles in MY eye!  Obamacare is just worse and more of it!

I loathe computer medical records.  Electronic Health Records.  EHR.  Errrrr!  Meaningful use = meaningless abuse.

I really don’t like having to get up at a set time every morning and living my life to a schedule.  Didn’t bother me years ago, but as I have aged, I really look forward to sleeping in on weekends!  I could get used to doing that every day.

I don’t like call.  As I have turned 39 for more than a few years, the ER calls in the middle of the night really bother me.  I no longer can fall back to sleep right away which affects my next day’s performance.  I already work a very busy schedule and additional add-ons are just additional stress right now that I could do without.  It is what it is, though.

So, in a nutshell, right there is my dream job . . . making the same amount of money I currently make (more would actually be better since I still live paycheck to paycheck with my doctor’s salary) but not having a set schedule, no call, and still do what I enjoy doing.

I enjoy running.  Can’t see anyone paying me what I make now to simply run.  And I am certainly not an elite/Olympic runner.  If I have to compete to get paid, I will starve.

I enjoy golfing.  And while I could make more than I currently make being a great professional golfer, I am not a great golfer.  I’m not really a good golfer.  I’m not worthy of playing with Tiger Woods.  I’m not really worthy of playing with Tiger’s woods, or even carrying his clubs.  I have probably lost a few balls in Tiger’s woods and if not, I certainly could manage that.

I also enjoy bowling, but I don’t think my current 192 average is good enough to keep my salary level where I am.  Nothing more pitiful than a starving bowler.

I’ve always dreamed of being the head coach at Penn State, and that would certainly pay better than my current gig.  But as passionate as I am as a fan, I do lack the X’s and O’s to actually be a football coach.  And looking at the hectic schedule that our new coach is living–travelling on the recruiting trail–I don’t think I would enjoy that schedule.

I am thinking Penn State University president.  The job may still be open, but I think they will be announcing a new president shortly.  I have not the experience nor qualifications, but there would be no bigger promoter of the University that I know of.  I can cut a ribbon without cutting myself.  I think.  I could ask people to donate money.  I’m not sure how I could handle dealing with our State Legislators, since my opinion of monumental idiots lawmakers in general is not very high.  The schedule probably isn’t as flexible as I’d like, so I think this is a no-go as well.

I could be a professional blogger if somebody wants to pay me what I’m currently making.  Yeah, I don’t see that happening.

Professional lottery winner?  I’m so there.  I just need to win the freaking Power Ball!

I’ve always thought stand-up comedy would be great.  I’m currently the entertainment for our annual office Christmas party, but that’s a once a year gig.  Not sure I could pull it off on a regular basis.  Maybe if I had a team of joke writers.  But the whole stand-up thing is not my style.  One of the things that drew me to eye surgery in medical school is that you can do it sitting down.  I guess I could be a late-night show host–a little actual standing followed by sitting behind a desk drinking coffee.  I could drive around like Jerry Seinfeld and drink coffee with other comedians.  I could drink coffee with just about anybody, especially if I’m getting paid well to do it.

I do dream of being a “professional” writer some day.  I have several novels in very stages of completion.  I blame my day job for the lack of time needed to actually finish and publish these projects, but we all know that is just an excuse.  And I have heard that publishers can be downright nasty with deadlines which would annoy me.  Sometimes the muse inspires me; sometimes the muse perspires me.  You just never know when the words will come.

It looks like for now, I’ll have to stick with taking out cataracts.

That’s not working.  That’s the way I do it.

Lemme tell, eye docs ain’t dumb.

Maybe get a blister on my little finger.

Maybe get a blister on my thumb.

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