Me Intern, You Patient

So yesterday I decided, for some unknown reason, to visit the Department of Medicine at the hospital where I'll be a resident for the next few years. Since I'll be doing my Internal Medicine residency the Dept. of Medicine will be my home away from home. All my superiors (my program director, the chief of medicine, the chief residents) spend their days there, teaching, administering and evaluating us, the residents. I wasn't sure if it was customary to "drop in to say hello" before the actual orientation but one of my friends in my class said she had done the same and it was really nice.

"I met my attendings [fully trained docs], my program director, the chiefs - it was cool!" She said. "I can't wait to start there!" She said.

So off I went, thinking that I would walk in and introduce myself to the department secretary under the pretext that I will inform her of my new address in Chicago (we just got our new apartment, moving in soon), and just take it from there. I imagined the whole scene - I would walk in, confident as usual in my khakis and blue and black striped shirt with a smile on my face, introduce myself and be ready to receive a, "Oh! You're one of the new interns? Nice to meet you! Your address? Sure - oh, did you meet the Chief Resident? I think she's around here somewhere - let me introduce you to her!" And things would just progress nicely from there.

Of course, that is not how it went at all.

My wife dropped me by the hospital and I waltzed inside. My hospital. The place where I would get the training to earn the title of "doctor". I stopped at the concierge.

"Excuse me, could you please direct me to the Department of Medicine?"

"The deparment of medicine?"

"Uh, yes."

"Hold on." The woman at the concierge desk started flipping through a binder in front of her. "The deparment of medicine..." she repeated slowly, her brow ruffled in confusion. "What are you a resident or something?"

Oooh that sounded nice.

"Yes," I said happily, "I'm starting in a couple weeks."

She turned to the woman beside her, "Beatrice? Where is the 'Department of Medicine'?" Her tone of voice implicating that I had no idea what I was talking about.

"Oh, I think that's in the other location - you know, on Highland.", said Beatrice.

Both these women were obviously thoroughly confused. I started thinking of another possible name for it but couldn't come up with anything. In the meanwhile, the lady in front of me turned back to me and repeated with full confidence the same exact answer that Beatrice had, as if she had secretly referred to a hidden source that was completely unbenownst to me or anyone else.

"No, no I know it's here - I was here for my interview a few months back and I went to the - oh! Maybe it's the department of Graduate Medical Education?" An epiphany. That must be it.

"GRADuate MEDical eduCAtion!!? I ain't never heard of that before."

Sigh. I looked over to another place, a different desk across the lobby hall. Maybe they could help me. The woman called over someone else and asked her about the same imaginary department of medicine that I had asked her about - probably placing it in her mind in the same category as unicorns and carebears. Luckily this new lady knew a little bit about the hospital and said, "Of course there's a department of medicine - every hospital has one." I was vindicated. And I was on my way.

Half way there, I realized that the whole pretext for this visit - that I would inform the department secretary of my new address and take things from there - was a sham. I had no idea what the zipcode of my new place was yet. Six, zero, something, zero, one. Crap. In a flash, the butterflies in my stomach turned into octopuses. What was I going to say? Was I the only fool to drop in and say hello to the folks at their residency program before orientation? But my friend did it, why couldn't I? It seemed like a nice thing to do. But what if it wasn't really customary, what would they think of me? Turning back seemed like a very good option at this point.

I approached the elevators that went up to the department, and stopped. Then, I turned around, and started walking back where I came from. Forget it. I'm not doing it. There's no need. I'll just see them on orientation day. I walked half way back to the main lobby and then decided I was being stupid and that there was nothing to be afraid of. I spent two years of medical school approaching doctors and residents that were my superiors and asking them for help for this or that; I interacted with program directors and chiefs of medicine with the greatest of ease and confidence during my interviews for residency; I've given speeches before large crowds without any difficulty - damn it I can go and visit my own program administrators and just say "hello"!

I marched straight back, walked to the elevators, pushed the button and went up. Following the signs for the department of medicine I found my way to the hallway full of offices and conference rooms. My heart started pounding. My hands, dry just moments ago, were now covered in cold sweat. What the hell was going on? Just as I started getting cold feet again I saw one of the Chief Residents walking into her offce - I recognized her from my interview day.

"Hi, Laura?" I asked. I had been in touch with her over email for scheduling issues.

"Yes?" She responded in quite a friendly manner. Then, the heavens closed up, and any light that may have been shining on my being at that point ceased to exist, and the rest of the converation went something like this.

"I'm intern. I found apartment. It next to train station."

She was very gracious with me. "Oh! Hi, nice to meet you! That's great. So how far is it from the hospital?"

"Ten."

"Uh, great, that's awesome! So, you just came by..."

"Hello. To say hello. I live next to the train."

"Right, yeah, you already said that - well that's great, it's very nice to meet you, here why don't I introduce you to the other chief."

"I have address too."

"Oh, okay, did you tell Mary about it? Did you meet Mary? Why don't you come with me."

::grunt::

Laura led the way to Mary's office, the department secretary. I followed her, meandering on all fours, stopping to munch on some plants that were in the hallway.

"Mary? This is Dr. Saleem Niazi, he's starting here with us this summer."

Mary stood up and smiled, "Welcome! It's so nice to meet you, so just dropped in to say hello?"

::grunt::

The chief filled in for me, "He just found a place close the hospital, do you have the address", she asked me?

"Yes, but no zipcode, hahahaha, no zipcode. Is it problem?"

"No, no, we'll collect all the updated information when you all come in for the orientation", Mary said genially.

Finally, after a series of grunts and broken sentences, I was able to release a single complete sentence to facilitate my exit from the area.

"Well, it was nice to meet you both and finally put a faces to the names." I mustered a smile, acknowledged their mercifully pleasant responses, and left.

* * * *

The sweat that had burst out all over my body had cooled in the early evening breeze. I waited for my wife to come and pick me up from in front of the hospital. I don't think I had ever been so nervous in my life. Why? Perhaps it was that residency and all its new and terrifying responsibilities were embodied in that place and in those people. Perhaps it was the idea that the people I met would be my superiors, evaluating my behavior and progress throughout my training. I've never been one to be so nervous about such things though. When I related the story to my wife she comforted me by reminding me that I am always a harsh critic of myself and things probably went just fine and that it was natural to feel the way I did given the new, "first-time", situation.

I hope she's right. Otherwise on my first day of residency, I may very well walk into the first patient's room and say, "Me Intern, you patient."