ADRENALINE: New 2013 edition by John Benedict

would never have asked an attending such a personal question, but with Dr. Landry it seemed okay to push it.
    “Yeah, I do like it. Not many people have a good feel for what it’s really all about, though. Even after my rotation through it my third year—two weeks, just like you—I didn’t have much of a clue. Seemed dull just watching these people sleep, but I liked all the computer and chemistry stuff. So I took a month of it early fourth year and loved it. I’ve always liked doing procedures and always disliked having long discussions with patients about their aches and pains.”
    “Yeah, I know what you mean. How long have you been here?”
    “About twelve years.”
    “Wow,” Rusty said and meant it. “I hear Doctor Marshall and Doctor Raskin have been here since the place opened.”
    “Pretty much.”
    “Do you think I’ll get the chance to work with Doctor Marshall?”
    Dr. Landry smiled wryly and said, “I’m sure you will.”
    Rusty decided to switch gears. “How’s the job situation in anesthesia?”
    “Not so good, Rusty. With all the mergers, managed care pressures, and Medicare cuts, the job situation is tight. Some people are desperate just to keep their jobs.” Dr. Landry said it in a funny way, like he knew more than he was saying. “But for good people, opportunities always exist.”
    “But still, don’t you find it boring?” Rusty asked. “You know in
The House of God
, he says anesthesia is ninety-nine percent boredom and one percent sheer terror.”
    “That guy was obviously never an anesthesiologist. It may look easy watching someone skilled do it, but let me tell you something, Rusty. When they walk out of the room the first time and you’re alone with the patient—it ceases to become boring real quick. When you realize it’s just you, your hands and brain, between a deadly arsenal of drugs and a patient’s life, it’s very sobering.”
    Rusty raised his eyebrows and murmured, “Hmmm.” His mouth was too full to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, Rusty noticed several nursing students who had just come in and were standing in line. One in particular, a tall brunette with shiny white stockings, seemed to be looking right at him and smiling. Rusty returned the smile, but then quickly forced himself back to the conversation. Can’t appear rude to Dr. Landry. Medicine required sacrifices, and this was one of them.
    Rusty looked at Dr. Landry, expecting him to be in mid-sentence or frowning at him. But, he noticed that Dr. Landry was also staring off in the direction of the stockings, and hadn’t said anything. Amazing, thought Rusty. He knew from talking to Dr. Danowski that Landry was married with several children. He seemed good-looking enough, although Rusty felt he was a poor judge of these things. But, the thought of him checking out the nurses amused Rusty. Why, he must be over forty! “Very sobering,” Rusty said.
    Dr. Landry shook his head, smiled quickly, and resumed eye contact with Rusty. “I’ll never forget the day I soloed. My attending was just ten feet outside the OR door looking in and I was still scared shitless. What if the patient goes brady, loses pressure, or bleeds too much? What if I can’t ventilate, or intubate, or get laryngospasm? A million what-ifs go through your head, and you try to figure if you know how to treat each one fast enough. Don’t let the boredom part fool you.” He shook his head.
    “Hmmm, you make it sound kinda scary or dangerous. But Dr. Landry—”
    “It’s Doug, Rusty.”
    “OK, don’t you think surgery is a lot scarier? After all, they’re doing the real cutting.” Rusty couldn’t help but notice the brunette and her friends had occupied a nearby table. He smiled in their direction.
    “No way. It’s a very popular misconception, though. Now I’ll grant you that some branches of surgery, like CT or major vascular, are very demanding . . .”
    “CT?”
    “Cardiothoracic. And I don’t mean to make their