As a general rule, humans don't donate their living bodies for medical students to practice and refine their surgical techniques. This, along with bacon, footballs, and girls for xxxxxxxxx to hook up with, are the reasons why pigs exist. Such was the setting in Georgetown's vivarium. I was excited to operate on my pig, and I successfully removed his (yes, he had a pig penis) gallblader, and resected & reanastamosed a portion of his small intestine. My partner, however, did not share my enthusiasm in surgery, and her reluctance to participate allowed me to take charge. She was between me and porky's head, and after I made a particulary deep cut, the pig sort of came out of anasthesia and hoof-kicked her in the elbow. As you should know, "things" in surgery shouldn't wake up mid-cut, but so to, med students shouldn't run out of the O/R screaming.
While on this rotation, eating meals doesn't always occur when expected, or at all. So, when you get the chance, speed and volume are the name of the game. So, i had the opportunity to eat a taco salad, and I inhaled it just in time to called back to the OR. (Note: there is a reflex (gastrocolic reflex) that encourages people to go potty after they eat, in an effort to make room for the incoming food. My "reflex" works like clockwork). So, as I am scrubbing in, all of the sudden, my belly begins to rumble, and out of nowhere, the Puerto Rican National parade starts marching through my colon. But in the OR, there is just you, the resident, the attending doctor, and the patient, all in a very close proximity. There is no dog to blame gas on. So, i did what any intelligent medical student would do. I began my unholy orchestra exactly at the moment that we exposed the patients bowels. At this point, the surgeons got real nervous because they thought they perforated the patient's bowel (this is very bad). Although I knew the true source of the smell, I kept my mouth shut, anus open, and smiled to myself behind my operating mask.
Now that my 3 months of surgery are completed, I am sure of several things: Having bone fragments and blood spurting into your face and hair does not make you more attractive.....Enraging surgeons to the extent that they actually want to cripple you does not help you honor vascular surgery....putting a tube into someone's stomach from their nose is uncomfortable, and is complicated by schizophrenia.....I am still excited about surgery, but unclear whether I will end up as an orthopedic surgeon, urologist, or plastic surgeon. Happy holidays, off to St. Croix for New Years