We went to the labour room because Dr. Rana was already in the Ophthalmology surgery room and couldn't see us. I was standing beside the attending doctor who encouraged the mother to be excellent and push. Baby wouldn't come out.
Farah was behind the attached door from the very beginning and I saw her sliding down and sat crouching on the floor. Two nurses stood beside her, engaging her in conversation.
Blood everywhere, body fluids and all that. Why didn't I even flinch?
Ten minutes have passed. The doctor gave her an LA and then only I flinched, instinctively clutching my lower abdomen defensively when the mother emitted another shriek. He made a tear and asked the mother to push harder.
Baby safe, placenta fished out and the doctor readied himself for suturing.
A doctor in brown sweater under his protective gown leaned into me slightly and asked, "What stage of labour is she in?"
Oh my God oral question. I grinned. "Sorry doctor, I'm a fourth year student. Haven't taken O&G yet."
He nodded. "Okay."
"So what's the answer?" I could be a good oral examiner, haha.
"Fourth stage, when the placenta is already out during the first hour of labour."
"How many stages are there?"
"Four. Though some author wrote three."
He turned to the attending and advised him on something about suturing perpendicular to the tissues. He turned back to me and regained his earlier role.
"When the fetus was out, what stage was it?"
"Erm, three?" I took a wild guess.
"Two." He corrected.
"Oh."
He instructed the attending something and Farah called me to see the twin babies of the Caesarian mother next door. They weren't identical neither in sex nor size and there was two doctors attending to the babies.
After that I went back to the room to ask the specialist what was the third stage of labour, but he was gone.
I didn't even get to thank him.
---
We were the only two in the lounge and Farah was already stowing her scrubs into her backpack. I was still deciding whether to take the shirt off first or to pull the pants out first since all my clothing are underneath the scrubs when the male doctor attending to the twins came in and passed us to get to his book.
I stalled, expecting him to be on his way then. He took a seat next to us. Now how should I undress? I could hear some Gen 5 seniors laughing at my medical-student over-enthusiasm if I walk home in my scrubs.
Still standing in front of him, I turned around and pulled my pants off. Folded it and stashing it into my backpack, all the while talking to Farah.
Farah asked the doctor. "Excuse me doctor, are you a specialist?"
"No, I'm an intern," he looked up from his book and answered her. Of course, no specialist will be reading a Medical Guide something, right?
"Obs or paed?" I asked, already betting on the latter.
"I'm in the resuscitation team for paediatric," he rather reluctantly looked at me. Sorry, carry on studying then.
I decided to wear the scrub shirt on and we exited the lounge after thanking the intern. Walking out, suddenly an epiphany struck and I clutched Farah's arm and said in horror, "Oh God I just pulled my pants off in front of a doctor!"
She laughed. "He was shocked. I saw his eyes bulging before he went staring at his book."
No comments:
Post a Comment