The rest of the weekend was unbelievably quiet. I kept thinking, “They had so better not be delivering more babies, and not telling me.” But I had a great time, reading books, playing Risk and Monopoly (my brother and I conceded mutual victory on Risk, having wiped out our 9yrold sister; everyone ganged up on me for Monopoly, so I lost – it’s not my fault I got hold of a third of the properties!), sleeping through the night.

Today, no patients in the hospital! In clinic this morning with the midwife I saw a dozen ladies – all only 34 weeks; they won’t deliver till I’m gone. This afternoon, working with the chairman, I observed two things: I need to figure out a tactful way to tell him and the other attendings who have taken an interest in me that I’m not interested in OB/GYN anymore, don’t need advice about residencies, don’t need letters of recommendation.

Also: I need to learn to handle constructive criticism better. He was correcting my method of doing pelvic exams. I have been so far influenced by the residents – and all the other attendings except him – that I do them fairly quickly, with some descriptions of what I’m doing, but less than I was taught to give. His area of expertise, on the other hand, requires him to go very slowly, observing all the textbook steps of physical exam, and he describes in detail everything he’s doing. So, of course, I fell short of his standards, and he told me so. That has to be the gentlest, most correct, most valuable, most warranted criticism I’m going to receive for the rest of my career, and I was having a hard time with it. I need to fix that before I spend much more time with the surgeons. I like them, but gentle and constructive criticism is not their strong point.

I don’t have anymore birth stories to tell (this has to break, I expect to be called tonight), so go read Dr. Whoo’s story of eight babies in four days.

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