So we’ve established that my NICU Sub-internship as an M4 left me with nothing but the strong, permanently ingrained sense that “this hell had damned well better be worth it”.
And it sort of was, in that I came to the NICU rotation as an intern already knowing all the lingo and TPN calculations. Which is half the battle! On top of that, I spent the weekend reviewing all the popular pimp questions, making flashcards, and preparing myself for battle.
I was ready. I was going to show those goddamned former residents that this former-M4 was, in fact, perfectly capable of being a NICU superstar and permanently erasing the bad memories of my NICU experience. That horrible M4 month of pain was going to be worth it even if I had to kill myself in the process.
All I had to do to shine, essentially, was show up.
So I carefully went through my 2 page set of alarms and selected the ones for 4:45, 4:50, 5:00 and 5:30…..
Yes, I set my alarms 12 hours late.
So I awoke Monday morning, bleary and well-rested, to a strange sound.
It was like my alarm but my phone wasn’t making noise? I tried to hit my phone a few times but it didn’t stop. The noise was coming from OUTSIDE MY PHONE.
So I sleep-walked towards the horrible noise and found myself standing in front of my hung-up white-coat, picking up my pager out of the pocket.
Pro tip: If you find yourself waking up in the process of staring at your pager, it never says anything good.
To be fair, that’s a bit of dramatic license. The page actually said “Just heard from the NICU that you are not there. Please call [chief cell phone] immediately.”
… but it doesn’t change the fact that my immediate reaction was “Shit, I’m not dead.”