Go Darke

Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it

Daily Journal

Chop chop

I am not squeamish. I always thought I would be. My wife has a reconstructed hip, the kind that’s whacked together with, glue, wire mesh and bone-chips from a dead person. Snowboarding accident when she was a teenager (no not really). In any event they weren’t particularly keen on stress testing that particular area by squeezing a watermelon through a one inch opening. Vaginas are like an inch right? You know… in the closed position. 

*tries to remember*

*Holds his thumb and forefinger up…*

Eh… maybe one and a half. (fortunately my wife doesn’t read my blog, so I am unlikely to get into trouble for this)

In any event both my kids were born via C-section. 

Eventually, during the procedure, the obstetrician got annoyed with me and said, ‘Stand over here, so you can see better’. I was being all big eyed, ‘Oooh whats that?’….

All this blood and guts got me thinking (that somehow I had missed my vocation) and I decided that if I ever got to reload my life from a previous save I might be tempted to take a stab at surgery. But it would probably have to be trauma… because… well… I’d get bored cutting up on pregnant people or removing gall bladders and doing all that mundane service-delivery type stuff all day every day.

On the surface of it, and from watching medical drama series on tv, trauma at least looks like it has some variety and a problem solving element. I have no idea if this is actually true. Also (and again I might be wrong here) but your patient interaction post event seems to be fairly minimal… if they survive your meat-technician-machinations, you can just palm them off to a plastic surgeon who can then fix the smiley face you did with your staple gun… or a more specialized doctor (who can then curse your handiwork). And if they die… all you have to do is come out all stern faced and mumble a few rehearsed platitudes. Easy peasy, Japaneasy.

(you may be able to deduce from all of this that I have a very limited understanding and/or appreciation of what trauma surgeons actually do)

Also… this might be me.

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In fact, those familiar with my work ethic and general approach to most things would likely be surprised if this was NOT me.

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