Part 1 | Part 2 | Conclusion

     Posted January 31, 2002. I'm afraid I may need to postpone (again) the conclusion to this series which is essentially an assortment of viewpoint regarding what I've been 'ranting' the past two columns.

     Couldn't help it. Another feedback made its way to my Inbox this week. The writer, who is a very good friend since the day I learned to drink beer, made his own recollection of his internship escapades.

     There are some things that Dr. Aries Bajoyo (1992) would rather forget. And Aries may not appreciate it if I mention them here. But like the rest of us, Aries's early days as a Junior Intern may forever be etched in his memory bank, as he recalled his first 24 hours on duty, and the days that followed, you can write a script that could rival such 'Doctor' shows as E.R., Chicago Hope, City of Angels, and the lame, not-funny-at-all comedy Scrubs.

     Actually, Aries and I talked about this on the phone about a month ago, and this is a constant topic whenever we recall our student and internship days. I told him then that I might write about it, and he promised to contribute if his own time permits.

     The time has come. Here's Aries's 'no-holds-barred', 'to-hell-and-back', 'Internship' story in its entirety:

     "I did my Junior Internship in 1992. That first day, I was on call for 24 hours. It was pure hell."

     "I think we started around 7 o'clock that first morning. I don't remember the exact instructions that were given to us but the gist was that we are to obtain a complete history and physical from each patient, new admissions and in-patient, and that we were going to rotate through the different stations in the hospital and monitor each patient's status constantly. No reassurrance or encouragement but only the explicit threat that if we were to be found absent from our post without an excuse we would dearly regret that we even aspired to become a doctor."

     "The next 24 hours were spent going from one patient to another, checking vital signs and then recording this at bedside. Considering the number of patients in the hospital, this meant that you were on your feet at all times and that you were checking vital signs about every 15 minutes or so. The younger (and prettier) nurses were sympathetic to our plight but the older ones made it their mission to make our life miserable. If we abandoned our post to attend to life's necessities, they made it a point to let our residents know. Short hair, pug-nosed and with a face that mirrored her vile personality, there was this ICU nurse that made us check patient's vital signs every 5 minutes! Her sentences would often start out as, "Linti, hoy intern..." I bet there are still doctors who would wake up screaming when they picture her in their nightmares."

     "Like headless ducks we staggered through that first 24 hours. Our PGI's were just as harried as we were while the impression we got was that our residents' main function was to act as the Gestapo, ready to dole out demerits for the slightest and often most irrelevant infraction."

     "At 7:30 the following morning we were made to undergo the Inquisition. Each one was made to stand in front of the group and try to present their patients while the residents and consultants grilled them. It appeared as if the quest here was to teach but not before humiliation and domination were complete. Essentially, if you were asked a question and you happen to know the answer you were then asked successive questions until you do not know the answer. After your ignorance was exposed then the next member of the group was made to stand. It didn't help that one of my colleagues mentioned that her female patient's prostate was not palpable."

     "At 5 o'clock that afternoon after my first 24-hour call, I went straight to Dumangas to my then girlfriend and said, "Ma quit ko! Indi ko ni kasarang! Ma seaman na lang ko siguro." She laughed and told me to hang in there."

     "From then on, we were on 24-hour call every 3rd day and some of us adapted and some of us continued to be brainless pawns. One time, I received a call from one of my fellow interns who was in the ICU, "'ries, pwede mo ko di mabuslan sa ICU? May balon man ko pero hambal sang nurse indi ko di pwede ka kaon." I was furious! I ran up to the ICU , yanked the door open and shouted for everyone to hear, "Sin-o ang nag hambal sa imo nga indi ka di ka kaon? Ga kaon gani di ang pasyente kag ang nurses! Kaon!" To his credit, my fellow intern opened his lunch box and started eating. I think the nurse that told my fellow intern not to eat was too shocked, "naunahan dungan", so to speak, since she made no comment."

     "I also had the good fortune to work with people who managed to be resourceful and innovative in the face of adversity. Dr. Albitar (Tarek) was a good friend who managed to obtain vital signs 2 hours ahead of time and soon his example was surreptitiously emulated by other members of our group. This allowed us to obtain rest and to actually read our books. Our ability to predict a patient's vital signs in advance soon came to the attention of our residents and from then on we started to accumulate demerits at a torrid pace. Drs. Albitar, Autajay (Feman) and myself had the dubious distinction of running neck and neck for having the most demerits. If it wasn't for the fact that every time we donated a liter of blood, 50 demerits would be deducted from our record, we would probably have spent several months after graduation making up for demerits. Dr. Joe Javellana was kind enough to shuttle us to Lapaz after each blood donation so that we could have "batchoy" and "puto", otherwise we would have passed out."

     "Over the succeeding months, we started to work together as a team. Like embattled Marines, we covered for each other. Through this system, Dr. Ababao (Pepsi) and myself were able to have dinner at Marina while on 24-hour call for OB-Gyne. My attempt to sneak back into the hospital was almost foiled by Dr. Gomez (Jerry) who happened to be by one of the windows and tried to point me out across the compound to the Ob-Gyne residents. Fortunately, I managed to sneak in without being caught redhanded. Dr. Ababao didn't have to worry about sneaking in. If I remember right , after dinner, he went straight to Boracay and came back tanned and well-rested two days later. I don't recall what excuses he came up with but he managed to talk his way through it all."

     "Over the next few months, we started to earn the grudging respect of our nurses. Our PGIs, residents,and consultants, mostly in the Surgery department, became our friends. It's surprising how vision improves and camaraderie is enhanced by group study of anatomy in dimly lit surroundings while the senses are gently caressed by music and the effects of malted beverages."

     "To say that the system does not work would obviously be wrong, otherwise I would now be a seaman. Did producing terror and subservience enhance learning? Definitely not! What it did was make us mad enough to say to ourselves, "I am not always going to be an Intern! Just you wait, I'll show you!"

     "I will forever be grateful to my colleagues who had to put up with me, and my PGIs, residents and consultants who, for the most part, became my friends and helped me muddle through. However,if I had to go back and I had the authority to say how things should be run I would have to say, "Be kind to your interns! Who knows, they may become doctors someday!" #

     Aries currently resides and practices in Elk City, Oklahoma, with wife, Glenda and son, Elijah Jordan.

     I invited Aries and his family to visit our place again this summer. To spice up my invitation, I told him that I found a convenient store not far away from my place that imports San Miguel Beer.

     For sure, we'll have a grand time talking about our student days again. Even without that dimly-lit surrounding, and our senses 'being caressed by soothing music'. Even without that group and that place we used to frequent to study gross anatomy amidst blinking lights synchronizing to the music of "Boulevard". We'll talk about junior internship all over again.

     Memories you just couldn't let go.

     to be continued...

From the Inbox:

From a reader on my column "Prayers for Elijah":
     "Prayer doesn't work. Jesus does. It's about time we give credit to Whom it's due. The article is very encouraging."

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