I take back my heroic statements of yesterday evening. Awakening with a fever of 101 this morning, it took every last bit of willpower to get myself to the hospital. I love nurses. They noticed me looking miserable, and found me some tylenol. Tylenol is a miracle drug.

I was amazed at how easily I stopped feeling sick when I was in the patients’ rooms. The lady from yesterday afternoon, with the molar pregnancy, had not yet heard about her pathology results, so I got to tell her that she doesn’t have cancer. (Guarding my statements, and crossing my fingers that I had understood the discussion yesterday correctly; when the residents came in, they told her the exact same thing; which was good.) This was my favorite case on gyn onc; unfortunately, I doubt that oncologists can live for the patients who turn out not to have cancer.

The attendings are both going to a tropical location for a conference. The residents are gleefully planning how little time they can spend in the hospital for the next week. The last surgery scheduled for the week, this morning, was supposed to be a massive vulvar excision/reconstruction. The only catch was that the patient was 90 years old. At the last minute the anesthesiologists had second thoughts on the subject, and called the surgery off.

And, I made my first step towards getting residency applications in order: I asked one of the faculty if he would write me a letter of recommendation, and got a long list of recommended residencies, and residencies to avoid. Thank God, I picked the right person to ask; he’s been a program director in the past, and seems to be in tune with intradepartmental conflicts and dynamics all over the country. I guess that’s going to be my project for spring break next week: looking up all the programs he recommended. I supposed I ought to be heartened that he was talking to me about Duke and Harvard and Johns Hopkins as though I have a chance at them, but I’m just scared. The dean, when he gave me that list of spots left open, also gave the cheerful information that this year a girl at this school who was ranked around 20th in a class of 100 failed to match in ob/gyn. His helpful advice was, “be sure to apply to a lot of programs.” Since he must know that my rank is higher than hers, this comment was very encouraging. Not.

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