Ok, I got up at 4:30, so I think that might be what’s really bugging me this morning…
Well, I’m in the NICU now, which I was really dreading. You can ask Dan about my behavior the night before I started. In a word, cranky. In two more words, near tears. I just didn’t want to go back to any NICU with the experiences I had with my babies. It’s my second day now, and it hasn’t been that bad. I don’t spend a lot of time with the patients or their families, since the intern’s job is to do a whole lot of paperwork. The babies remind me of Max when he was so tiny (less so of Theo, because he wasn’t as tiny), but in a good way. They have that preemie smell.
Here’s my beef, though. This morning I was doing my physical exams to prep for rounds. The first baby I went to see is a little guy who weighs less than two pounds and has a very sick heart. As I approached his isolette to check him out, I realized I was looking around for the nurse to ask permission, a habit that’s ingrained from when my boys were in the nursery. That’s when it hit me: as a jackass stranger intern, I’m allowed to pop open the isolette and hassle the baby as much as I want, as the baby’s MOTHER, I had to ask permission to touch them. I don’t think that’s too cool.