(no subject)
Carmen opened the freezer and felt around for the top of the stack; she pulled out the first box her hand contacted. “Refried bean burrito made with 100% whole wheat tortilla and 0g trans fat” was printed in bright aqua letters across the front. The small picture looked appetizing, with the burrito sliced in half and presented on a teal plate. From experience, Carmen knew not to have high expectations of anything that came out of her freezer. If it didn’t taste like damp cardboard in the beginning, after the freezer burned wrap entered her prehistoric microwave for five minutes it would be as dry and tasteless as a piece of toast. She popped it in and stared out the window while it baked.
After eight years of post-high school education and seven years residency, Carmen was more than 150,000 dollars in debt and alone. She was thirty-three, poor, friendless, and living in a small flat by herself in metropolitan Seattle. She worked 100 hour weeks at Northwest Medical Center as a neurosurgeon, and came home to an empty apartment without a TV. Her fridge was filled with Poland Springs, vitamin water, and diet coke. Her freezer was a collection of assorted TV dinner diet specialties, including 5 carb. pizza and 120 calorie chicken alfredo. She had never had a serious boyfriend or owned a pet. Since high school she had been working toward her goal of being a respected female neurosurgeon, and she was as far away as ever. After attending the best schools and completing her residency at John Hopkins she remained at the bottom of the food chain.
Just the other day her decision concerning a patient had been overridden by a fifth year resident. His name was Paul, and he was clearly an honorary A team member. He was the star resident who came in at five a.m. to check his patient’s charts; he had a level head and a kind smile. Carmen harbored a deep loathing for him because his raw surgical talent and natural ease with people was a lethal combination that put her at risk. She could not afford to look bad in front of the residents because she would loose what little respect she had worked so hard for.
The case was a six month old infant with a brain tumor. The tumor was located beneath her hypothalamus, and there was no minimally invasive way of removing it. All options would result in loss of mental abilities for the child, and possible nerve damage. The answer to the situation was one of preference. The surgeon could enter behind the ear and slowly work their way to the tumor, or they could attempt to enter through the nasal cavity. Entering behind the ear would mean a possible obstruction to the facial nerves, whereas entering through the nose was difficult and less accurate, with a high probability of tumor re-growth. Carmen was confident in her abilities and decided on making the incision behind the ear. She had seen the surgery done once, and performed it once, with no resulting nerve damage. However, Paul mentioned radiation to the parents without first consulting Carmen. Carmen had not considered radiation as an option because of the detrimental effects it is known to have on the human body. The radiation is linked to cause cancer and stunted growth, not to mention the high rate of tumor reoccurrence. The radiation procedure involves twice weekly trips to the hospital for six months and constant testing. Carmen knew that she was capable of performing the surgery, and, based on her experience, felt it was the best option for the family. When the parents learned about radiation treatment they pounced on the opportunity, and would hear nothing else. Carmen was furious that a resident had gone behind her back and consulted a patient without her permission.
As she sat at home eating her TV dinner and flipping through medical journals she wondered if she would ever be accepted. She knew she was good enough. She had gone to a more reputable school than most of her collogues, and a more rigorous residency program. Why wouldn’t they acknowledge her? Why wouldn’t they allow her to be one of them? She finished her bean burrito and threw away the plastic sleeve. Tomorrow would be a new day and she would try again to prove herself in the world of men.
After eight years of post-high school education and seven years residency, Carmen was more than 150,000 dollars in debt and alone. She was thirty-three, poor, friendless, and living in a small flat by herself in metropolitan Seattle. She worked 100 hour weeks at Northwest Medical Center as a neurosurgeon, and came home to an empty apartment without a TV. Her fridge was filled with Poland Springs, vitamin water, and diet coke. Her freezer was a collection of assorted TV dinner diet specialties, including 5 carb. pizza and 120 calorie chicken alfredo. She had never had a serious boyfriend or owned a pet. Since high school she had been working toward her goal of being a respected female neurosurgeon, and she was as far away as ever. After attending the best schools and completing her residency at John Hopkins she remained at the bottom of the food chain.
Just the other day her decision concerning a patient had been overridden by a fifth year resident. His name was Paul, and he was clearly an honorary A team member. He was the star resident who came in at five a.m. to check his patient’s charts; he had a level head and a kind smile. Carmen harbored a deep loathing for him because his raw surgical talent and natural ease with people was a lethal combination that put her at risk. She could not afford to look bad in front of the residents because she would loose what little respect she had worked so hard for.
The case was a six month old infant with a brain tumor. The tumor was located beneath her hypothalamus, and there was no minimally invasive way of removing it. All options would result in loss of mental abilities for the child, and possible nerve damage. The answer to the situation was one of preference. The surgeon could enter behind the ear and slowly work their way to the tumor, or they could attempt to enter through the nasal cavity. Entering behind the ear would mean a possible obstruction to the facial nerves, whereas entering through the nose was difficult and less accurate, with a high probability of tumor re-growth. Carmen was confident in her abilities and decided on making the incision behind the ear. She had seen the surgery done once, and performed it once, with no resulting nerve damage. However, Paul mentioned radiation to the parents without first consulting Carmen. Carmen had not considered radiation as an option because of the detrimental effects it is known to have on the human body. The radiation is linked to cause cancer and stunted growth, not to mention the high rate of tumor reoccurrence. The radiation procedure involves twice weekly trips to the hospital for six months and constant testing. Carmen knew that she was capable of performing the surgery, and, based on her experience, felt it was the best option for the family. When the parents learned about radiation treatment they pounced on the opportunity, and would hear nothing else. Carmen was furious that a resident had gone behind her back and consulted a patient without her permission.
As she sat at home eating her TV dinner and flipping through medical journals she wondered if she would ever be accepted. She knew she was good enough. She had gone to a more reputable school than most of her collogues, and a more rigorous residency program. Why wouldn’t they acknowledge her? Why wouldn’t they allow her to be one of them? She finished her bean burrito and threw away the plastic sleeve. Tomorrow would be a new day and she would try again to prove herself in the world of men.