My Favorite Case

From a textbook of breast surgery (yeah I know; I see 3 breasts too)

Here I am doing 12h shifts in the ER at Eisenhower Medical Center in the beautiful man-made paradise, Palm Springs, CA. It's a posh rotation--the first time a program has offered [free] housing during the entirety of my clinical training. What a relief. They put us up in a gated country club community, brimming with elderly golf fanatics. I believe I am younger than any of my neighbors by at least 30 years. But it's a nice place to be: beautiful, warm, and an excellent teaching environment. That being said, I admit that I watch the clock. Kind of a lot. Which brings me to "My Favorite Case of the Day."

During the breast surgery rotation in December, Mondays were the primary surgery days. Dr. Ray, the preceptor, was quite the regimented type--a self-proclaimed OCD. This made him rather predictable after a few days.

On any given OR day, he would proclaim during the first case, "I gotta be outta here by 'x' O'clock because I have 'x' things (i.e., tee time, granddaughters' karate tournament, nap, etc.) to do. So let's move it along today, don't dawdle." And we would. And it was quite efficient. And I am fine with this.

Inevitably, by the final case of the day, after the patient had been delivered to the OR, properly identified and prepped, he would come in--rubbing his hands together as if he were warming them in front of a fire--saying, "Ahhhh, my favorite case of the day..." and after waiting for us all to look in his direction, paused for his final thoughts, he'd add, "...The LAST one!" and look quite pleased with himself.

On the very last day of my rotation, we happened to find ourselves quite busy. Not in the OR, but rather attending to the most recent breast surgeon applicant. Because of this, I was privileged to participate in the catered lunch and adventure to the plastic surgeon's office, where I leafed through "before and after" photos while they interviewed the candidate. I was ready to sign up for perfect new breasts by the end.

Finally, we returned to the clinic for our final patient of the day--a post-op who went under the knife on my first day of rotation. I walked into the office, trailed by Dr. Ray, rubbing my hands (as if warming them in front of a fire), proclaiming, "My favorite case of the rotation..." and he goes, "What? What was this case about? Was it one of the intra-operative radiation cases?" And I paused just a bit before replying, "...The LAST one!" I beamed, quite proud of myself. See what I did there?

He erupted into laughter, exclaiming, "Oh, you dog! I can't believe you got me! With my OWN joke!"

Bazinga.