Medical life is basically a long-term experiment to see how much caffeine a human can ingest before they start seeing waveforms on their toast. I often stare at my phone’s notification settings, wondering if I can set different tones for: "Real emergency" "Intern forgot how to order electrolytes… again" My brain is currently in Test Mode — I can perfectly recall the origin and insertion of every muscle in the hand… but I can’t remember if I actually ate today or just hallucinated while walking past the vending machine. When I finally sit down to continue my day, I realize my last 12 hours are just a blur of white coats and blue scrubs.
I check upcoming events with unrealistic optimism, thinking I might attend something social without falling asleep into the appetizers. I sign in to my own life… then head back to the floor, ready to share my latest discovery: The hospital cafeteria’s…
