My iTunes is in a sappy mood. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Phantom of the Opera, Vienna Teng, Eva Cassidy, Josh Groban all have rotated on in the last hour. Hmm. I don’t know what it’s trying to tell me.

All I know is that I’ve been reading about some of the discussion in reducing resident work hours from 80 hours to 72, and limiting it to 24 hours straight, rather than 30. Half the posts are about how all it does is train physicians to be sloppy and less dedicated and less educated. And that’s enough to make me cry. There’s a nice post here about Labor Day and resident physicians. England is going to a 48 hour week for its residents. 48 hours. I can’t even imagine.

More blogs:
http://fatdoctor.org/2007/09/03/doctors-labor-day/
http://www.hourswatch.org/
http://pandabearmd.com/blog/2007/08/23/in-which-your-uncle-panda-rips-off-the-lid-rolls-it-in-a-tube-and-places-it-politely-where-the-sun-doesnt-shine/

My program is quite good about getting us out within the 30 hours. I usually am out in 29 hours. And I usually only feel exhausted and overworked when I’m on call and unable to claim more than 15 minutes of sleep with my head on the table. Those are the hard nights and it depends on the rotation of how frequent they are. My last two calls have been unbelievably sweet. No new admissions. I went to bed by 11 pm and didn’t leave my room until after 6 am. Saturday night, I didn’t get a single page all night, until 4:30 am. But I sleep with a light on and I wake up every 20 minutes or so, worried that I am missing something. I still go home in the morning absolutely exhausted.

I worked today. In the hospital by 7:30, didn’t finsih until after 3. And it was a holiday, but I didn’t get paid extra. I don’t get time and half. My paycheck states that I work 46 hours a week, isn’t that nice.

*sigh* Sorry for the negativity. I came home from the hospital after spending over an hour trying to get a foley catheter into a man with prostate cancer, with a bad migraine and my smoke detector beeping every 3 minutes because the battery was dying. So I’ve never gotten rid of the headache. And sometimes, it really depresses me that this is what my life is like and it won’t ever get better.

I’ve got a date tomorrow night. I’m a dating machine, I guess. Either that or a masochist. Different guy, one that I find conversation with to be somewhat stilted and painful, really. But he was the medical student on the neuro wards and my friends were raving about how great he was (which he is a very nice guy) and they all seemed to enjoy talking to him, so I decided to give him another chance.

We’re going to a baseball game. I apparently don’t learn my lesson. Luckily, it’s with about 40 other people, so there will be a chance to engage others, if we decide there’s nothing to talk about and the game goes into extra innings.

And I’ve got clinic tomorrow morning and have to round on my patients before rounds. Oh, and did I mention that it’ll be another 14 days before my next day off (16 days total)?

Okay, iTunes is now playing Enrique Inglesis’ “Hero”. It is definitely time to go to bed.