Proud owner of a used heart

On occasion my chiefs will tell us lowly interns about what it was like when they were first years. Sometimes it will be just to tell us how easy we have it, or how they were better than us. But every now and then you'll get a little nugget of truth out of one of them. A few weeks ago one of my chiefs told us how he used to go home and curl up in the fetal position while listening to Megadeath. He said it soothed him.

Now, I've heard the music he listens to cause he has one of those fancy ipods with built in speakers so the Megadeath doesn't surprise me. But the admission that he got upset during his intern year was surprisingly gratifying. Because this Chief of mine is pretty good at his job. He definitely puts me to shame on a regular basis.

I know that intern year is hard, I know that everyone goes through it and handles it in their own way but it's always nice knowing that you aren't the only one who feels incompetent and bad at their job. Of course, he is generally the one that makes me feel that way. But, every time I screw up I work ten times harder to prevent the next one. So, that's the positive side.

Anyways, I walked out of the hospital today feeling pretty medium about life. I'd screwed up on a number of things and I'd beat myself up pretty good about all of them. But, I'll fix those mistakes and make a whole new set tomorrow. What's really got me feeling iffy is the outcome of my trauma victim from last week. Her heart went to save the life of another little girl who just turned 1 a week and a half ago. She's spent her whole life in this hospital. When she outgrew her NICU crib she moved down to the PICU and now she has a heart that works and will finally be able to see a world outside of the hospital.

That story should give me the warm and fuzzies. Except, I know where that heart came from. I was in the room with the donor when we were trying to save her life. I saw the book that the nurses put together for the grieving parents. It has the little girl's hand and foot prints stamped in it. A nurse and a bereavement counselor sat with the parents and filled in her first words, favorite foods and all her hopes and dreams. And that is all that is left of her. Because even though her heart is beating in another little girl's chest she is still gone.