mr. rosendorf

when i was in high school, i remember writing in my economics essays that a major component of WA's GDP was in the resources sector, etc. we'd always write about the mining industry in particular, and of china's demand for iron ore in particular. while i'm very grateful to iron ore for our economic prosperity, it's not the most interesting natural resource to me. what is of interest to me (and every other girl) are the pink diamonds, found only in WA's own argyle mines.

i know that i am not the only asian kid in a western country who likes to distinguish herself from recent migrants, unkindly termed FOBs (fresh off the boat- a little old fashioned, i know). but standing there in trinity arcade and staring at the posters of rosendorf's, whilst clutching a piece of scrap paper with the address scribbled, mum and i successfully passed off as very FOB. we were in an alley very reminiscent of the harry potter movies being mocked by those posters whilst searching desperately for some sort of door/entrance that would let us into the said shop.

i then decided that we had to ascend a flight of stairs to get to the mysterious location of rosendorf's, and we passed by a gentleman who was locking a gate. so we approached him and asked for directions to rosendorf's. what are you looking for? he asked. pink diamonds, we told him. you're looking for the right place, he told us. rosendorf's is the best jewellery shop in Australia. i'll take you there. so we followed him, and lo and behold, it was only 5m down from the arcade, along the main street. i figured he must be the boss, or a manager or something.

he then approached one of the sales girls, told her that we were looking for pink diamonds, and asked her to look after us. she assured him she would. mum then asked are you in charge here? and i said he's the boss. but the salesgirl surprised us both. he's mr rosendorf, she said.

last night's promise

I am writing this here so that I will be held accountable for my promise in the future. Last night, I was in ED looking for some patients to perform a musculoskeletal examination on. Well, I was debating between examining the patient with a hudson mask on and calling in a triage 4? 5? from the waiting room. Either option was quite inappropriate, and I was crippling myself with my indecision when the registrar I was supposed to meet walked into the ED.

It took about 5 minutes for him to sort out his business, and for me to realise that I wouldn't be able to examine any of the present patients. So when he said "do you want to scrub up for a case?", I was like, "Okay.." even though ideally, we're not supposed to scrub up for any case unless we've taken a history from the patient. I don't know how it transpired that he was more enthusiastic about me scrubbing in than I was. I used to love going into theatre, but I think that the last arthroplasty I went to (another story somebody else would be happy to tell) crushed my spirit.

So there we were, in theatre. It was a wound debridement. While we were washing it out (we took turns between sucking and washing), he gave me tips on the general things to include when discussing orthopaedic conditions: DEEP SCRATCH. And then he let me put in four subcuticular stitches, before showing me how to do an Aberdeen knot:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npS7BSIyr_4
The same went for stapling- first he described to me what he was doing, then it was my turn to staple the other half of the incision. He dictated, and I wrote. And we both signed off the surgical notes.

After that, he met up with his intern and treated us to dinner. The intern treated drinks (non-alcoholic). And I? I "choped" the table! Kidding. I was made to promise that when I'm a registrar, I too will be nice to my students and treat them to meals.

So here it is, that I will be held accountable. To remember that not every registrar was too busy/proud to talk to and mentor (teach, talk to, and treat!) younger medical students. And also to remember the thrill of a medical student putting in her first stitch- in a person, and not your stuffed toy/ pork knuckle/ anything and everything you can get your hands on.

P.S. That wasn't the first time I'd sutured, thankfully- otherwise would seriously have humiliated myself. Or maybe I would have been asked to stop after my first stitch, like the first time I closed a port insertion wound. Haha. It was my first stapling experience, though!