Wednesday, 14 November 2007
げか - Surgery
Phew! What a week it has been. My first surgery was awesome, as was the Kumamoto trip, although for drastically different reasons. I'll talk about Kumamoto in a later post, I promise.
So there I was, last Wednesday, the day of my first surgery. I was met by one of the female surgeons who took me into the changing room to get into my surgical scrubs, cap and mask. Even that part was exciting. She then took me through the surgical floor to O.T. 5, where I had a few minutes to just look around in awe at all the cool equipment and medical stuff. Nakashimasan (the vice-president of the hospital, who took May and me to the Viking restaurant back in October) arrived and he told me a bit about the patient: 6 year-old male; blood type AB+; suffering from sleep apnea, difficulties eating/gaining weight, a concave chest and heart problems as a result of this; will undergo tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy. Basically, his tonsils and adenoids were so big that he couldn't swallow, that's where most of his medical problems were coming from. This tiny little boy was brought in, obviously pretty scared, but the anaesthetists were great and soon calmed him down. It took quite a long time for him to fully fall asleep though. Nakashimasan explained that they were being particularly careful with the anaesthetic because he was a child.
With the patient under general anaesthetic, the surgeons got to work. The main thing they were worried about was bleeding. They don't use sutures for a tonsillectomy so they have to be certain that they have stopped all the bleeding (using what is essentially a soldering iron) before they wake the patient up. I was a little surprised at how rough they had to be to get the tonsils out. They used a 'snare' (wire loop) and pretty much just pulled them out. From start to finish, it was about 1 hour 30 minutes. That's 90 minutes of pure enthralment from my perspective.
After the little boy was moved out and taken back to his Mum, Nakashimasan gave me a proper tour of the surgical floor. I got to peek inside the other four operating rooms, all of which had surgeries going on in them. I also spent a few minutes observing a skin tumour being removed from a woman's scalp, which was very cool. I wondered how something like that gets noticed though. I mean I could only see it because her head had been shaved. Ordinarily her hair would have covered it, right?
Anyway, we headed back to OT5. A second patient was brought in. Two surgeries in one day – I couldn't believe my luck! This patient was a middle-aged man with a visible tumour in his neck: a tumour of the lymph gland. As you probably would have guessed, he was in surgery to have it removed. The doctors didn't know if it was malignant or not, but regardless, nobody wants a lump the size of a golf ball sticking out of they neck. This second procedure was way cooler than the first. The point at which I realised this was when the surgeons were in the process of cutting out the tumour, tying off blood vessels as they went – something that looked very satisfying to do indeed – and a wonderful gloop of lymph oozed out of it. Imagine really thick cream, but more yellow, and you've got lymph. It was disgusting but so, so interesting. Apparently, this tumour was actually contained within a lymph-filled sack, hence the seepage. Cooool.
The second surgery only took about an hour and after that, alas, I had to leave. I was really tired though, after standing up concentrating for three hours straight. My body was tired, but my mind was buzzing. It really was amazing. It all felt so natural, you know, like it was natural for me to be there. This wasn't just some once-in-a-lifetime experience; I could see myself doing this every day as my job. Ah, I am still so excited about it a week on. I might being going into surgery again this afternoon but Nakashimasan is at a conference so I need to find the female surgeon from last time. I'll let you know as and when I make it back in!
So there I was, last Wednesday, the day of my first surgery. I was met by one of the female surgeons who took me into the changing room to get into my surgical scrubs, cap and mask. Even that part was exciting. She then took me through the surgical floor to O.T. 5, where I had a few minutes to just look around in awe at all the cool equipment and medical stuff. Nakashimasan (the vice-president of the hospital, who took May and me to the Viking restaurant back in October) arrived and he told me a bit about the patient: 6 year-old male; blood type AB+; suffering from sleep apnea, difficulties eating/gaining weight, a concave chest and heart problems as a result of this; will undergo tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy. Basically, his tonsils and adenoids were so big that he couldn't swallow, that's where most of his medical problems were coming from. This tiny little boy was brought in, obviously pretty scared, but the anaesthetists were great and soon calmed him down. It took quite a long time for him to fully fall asleep though. Nakashimasan explained that they were being particularly careful with the anaesthetic because he was a child.
With the patient under general anaesthetic, the surgeons got to work. The main thing they were worried about was bleeding. They don't use sutures for a tonsillectomy so they have to be certain that they have stopped all the bleeding (using what is essentially a soldering iron) before they wake the patient up. I was a little surprised at how rough they had to be to get the tonsils out. They used a 'snare' (wire loop) and pretty much just pulled them out. From start to finish, it was about 1 hour 30 minutes. That's 90 minutes of pure enthralment from my perspective.
After the little boy was moved out and taken back to his Mum, Nakashimasan gave me a proper tour of the surgical floor. I got to peek inside the other four operating rooms, all of which had surgeries going on in them. I also spent a few minutes observing a skin tumour being removed from a woman's scalp, which was very cool. I wondered how something like that gets noticed though. I mean I could only see it because her head had been shaved. Ordinarily her hair would have covered it, right?
Anyway, we headed back to OT5. A second patient was brought in. Two surgeries in one day – I couldn't believe my luck! This patient was a middle-aged man with a visible tumour in his neck: a tumour of the lymph gland. As you probably would have guessed, he was in surgery to have it removed. The doctors didn't know if it was malignant or not, but regardless, nobody wants a lump the size of a golf ball sticking out of they neck. This second procedure was way cooler than the first. The point at which I realised this was when the surgeons were in the process of cutting out the tumour, tying off blood vessels as they went – something that looked very satisfying to do indeed – and a wonderful gloop of lymph oozed out of it. Imagine really thick cream, but more yellow, and you've got lymph. It was disgusting but so, so interesting. Apparently, this tumour was actually contained within a lymph-filled sack, hence the seepage. Cooool.
The second surgery only took about an hour and after that, alas, I had to leave. I was really tired though, after standing up concentrating for three hours straight. My body was tired, but my mind was buzzing. It really was amazing. It all felt so natural, you know, like it was natural for me to be there. This wasn't just some once-in-a-lifetime experience; I could see myself doing this every day as my job. Ah, I am still so excited about it a week on. I might being going into surgery again this afternoon but Nakashimasan is at a conference so I need to find the female surgeon from last time. I'll let you know as and when I make it back in!
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2 comments:
You are going to make such a brilliant doctor. Your enthusiasm and dedication know no bounds, it seems. I am so proud of you.
Absolutely riveting. Please can we have more. I am so impressed by your first time in surgery. You will have to compare notes with Uncle J.S on his first time.G.xx
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