Most people look forward to vacations and breaks. But not like interns. Man, we literally live for them. They are the ONLY thing that keeps you going. As interns we work 80+ hours a week. Get only 4 days of a month and only 3 weeks off in the year. So when we go on vacation it's a big damn deal. I got all my vacation at the beginning of the year. And that is not ideal because it means no more than 2 days off in a row for the rest of the year. (Our year starts with June 24th and ends with the 23rd on the following June.)
So, I've been on vascular surgery the past few weeks and as I'm sure you've noticed it's been hellish. Well, tomorrow I leave straight from the hospital and take a plane to visit my family. We'll sit on the back porch, barbeque, play guitars, sing loudly, laugh, drink . . . and I will literally let all of this go. I will shut it out of my mind completely. I used to pride myself on my disturbing ability to compartmentalize the different parts of my life. Now, I seem unable to do that as well.
Being at the hospital as much as I am and having only other interns and residents to hang out with on my time off means this place has taken over my life. So, nowadays, even when I am off I still dwell. That's why this weekend is so special for me. I can let it go. There will be no subtle reminders. The familiar ambulance driving past a local restaurant. The dirty scrubs lying on my bedroom floor. The beeper clipped to my pants. All the people wearing the school colors of the university my hospital is affiliated with. But, the biggest thing is that I won't be with people that get it.
No one in my family wants to hear about the wound that I debrided at the bedside the other day that had the putrid smell only rotting flesh can have. And the story about the trauma patient whose blood I had dripping down my pants will just gross my family out. Also, they don't care about the hospital gossip and drama that we interns discuss ad nauseum. So, when I spend this weekend with my family I can put all of this in the furthest recess of my mind and get away.
I call it GTFO . . . Gettting The Fuck Out. It's aggressive and makes me sound kinda angry, maybe even a little closer to psychotic when it's coupled with the desperation in my eyes and the break in my voice. But, I need it. We all do. Guidos may have GTL, we have GTFO.
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