Last month I was doing the anesthetic for a liver transplant and the case went very, very bad. Uncontrolled surgical bleeding, concomitant coagulopathy, and intractable hypotension despite very aggressive transfusion and 3 blood pressure medications, before the surgeons had even removed the patient’s diseased liver. A very serious situation, for which we felt that we needed a cardiac anesthesiologist to come in and evaluate the patient’s heart using an esophageal ultrasound before we could proceed with the transplant.
My female attending asked me to call the cardiac anesthesiologist on-call. I reached him at home, where he was obviously very displeased at my request to come in to the hospital. Surprised, I asked him, “You seem very angry, why?” He tried to pull himself together and told me that his children, who usually live with his ex-wife across the ocean, were with him and they were in the middle of doing birthday cake. Silently, I thought then why didn’t you switch your call? I said I was sorry and just restated the facts of the situation, which made it obvious that he needed to come in.
45 minutes later he stormed into the operating room where we were still working furiously to keep the patient alive. As he prepared to put the ultrasound probe in, he literally ranted and shouted at us about how it takes an act of God for him to get to see his children and he couldn’t believe that we were calling him to come in. I was flabberghasted at his behavior- the patient’s dying on the table and he’s screaming at us? Anything short of focusing on the task at hand would have been inappropriate- this was completely over the top. Even the surgeons paused to look at him. My attending just said, “We can talk about that later, what we want to know is this this this and this about her heart…” and he eventually calmed down and took care of things. Our call was not unfounded, the information he gained was valuable.
Later, he said he was sorry. It was one of those sorrys where the person who is saying sorry knows it’s going to be OK, but they’re saying sorry anyway because it makes them feel better, you know what I mean? I blinked and said OK, but it was not OK. Not OK at all. I just couldn’t believe that he could- and did- just get away with acting like that by just saying sorry.
Now don’t get me wrong- I have infinite sympathy for that kind of situation, where your work pulls you away from your family. It is the kind of sacrifice that seems almost inconcievable to other parents that work normal jobs, but it happens more than we like in medicine. I myself have been pulled away from my family on numerous occasions that made my heart ache. The burden of these sacrifices is not light…they leave a mark. And so I really felt for him. At the same time, though, I do everything in my power to minimize these instances. Planning months in advance to do something as simple as go to my son’s kindergarten to read a book outloud to the class, or host a birthday party, or make it to my own 11 year wedding anniversary. Why put yourself in a situation where it will be devastating if you are asked to do your job?
When I’m at work, I try very hard to not let anybody think that I’m just dying to get out of there and get home. Most of the time I don’t feel like that- I love my job- but I certainly don’t let it show when it happens. And I would never, never behave the way this male attending did in the operating room! Why? Well, first, the patient deserves more than that. I’m a professional and would never throw a fit for being asked to do my job, which is take care of the patient. Moreover (and this is the part that really gets me) there is NO WAY I could get away with acting like that and not be branded a crazy woman, one with no dedication to her job, not a team player. No way I could escape with just a “sorry.” And yet he totally did.
There is definitely a double standard when it comes to behavior in the workplace. I’m not saying it with bitterness- hey, I can hang with the boys. And I am succeeding. However, it is tricky. If a woman reacts strongly to a situation, she is labelled a bitch, or bossy, or crazy. A man does the same thing, and he’s strong, or stubborn, or a character. It’s not fair, but that’s the way it is.
Working moms so often feel like their commitments to their children hurt their work and their commitment to their work hurts their children. This guilt can be so deep and pervasive, it eats away at you. I have managed to stay happy with my choices because I try to make sure that I’m the only one who hurts, and that my hurts are not too much to bear. To hear that guy fling his hurt around crassly for the whole world to see, when it was all due to his own lack of planning, seemed so cheap to me. Live with it, buddy. I do, and I do it better than you.
Note: the title of this post refers to a news monologue delivered by the no-nonsense, absurdly butch cheerleading coach on my new favorite show, “Glee.” I sometimes wish I could be her and tell it like it is.
Anesthesiologist by day, suburban Ninja mom by night, scientist, iPhone addict, internet geek, occasional blogger, grateful Christian, cookbook reader but not user, tiny Asian bombshell happily married to big white guy... I've got a lot of different hats.
