Mulberry Street: My first call

Again, I awoke before my alarm feeling a little nervous. After a little tossing and turning, I eventually decided to go ahead and shower. The night before I’d thought ahead and packed an overnight bag. It contained:

A fresh tee-shirt and boxers
Clean socks
Toiletries (though I left the razor and shave cream at home…if there’s anytime a man deserves a day without a shave, it’s a day after a night without sleep!)
Spray shoe freshener. This is essentially spray deodorant designed for shoes. I suppose any spray deodorant would work, and would probably be cheaper. With my small closet at home with eight pairs of shoes inside, I feel better about not polluting the limited airspace with musty aromas.

I also thought it would be good to bring some reading material, in case it was a slow call day. As usual, I totally overestimated the amount of free time I’d have to read. In any case, armed with these books I marched into my first call:

Massachusetts General Hospital's Pocket Medicine. My copy is already annotated with helpful notes, such as how to properly analyze a patient’s acid-base status. (This one stays in my white coat, as does my palm pilot, and a pocket notebook in which to jot notes. And of course a pocket Pharmacoepia.)
The Washington Manual Intern’s Survival Guide. This book’s a bit overpriced at $30 and essentially contains the bare bones of Pocket Medicine. However, it is a briefer read and has some witty comments.
My new pager’s user’s manual. One of these days I’ll figure out how to use all the buttons.
Billy Collins’ Questions About Angels. The beauty of poetry is that, much like a juicy grape or a cruchy Triscuit, you can enjoy it in a very brief period of time. Sure, steak and wine is nice on occasion, but my first call is no time to make an attempt at finishing Anna Karenina.
Critical Care Handbook of the Massachusetts General Hospital. With an open ICU, I could always be admitting a unit patient.
Clinical Anesthsiology, published by Lange. This book came with enthusiastic recommendations, and being at a private hospital training program which emphasized “reading time,” I’d like to make my way through this book over the next 12 months. At approximately three pounds, this is a literal heavy-weight, but well worth reading potential.
Felson’s Principles of Chest Roentgenology: A Programmed Text. A slim book which reviews chest radiographs. In the time since radiology rounds as a third year medical student on internal medicine when I asked a radiologist what exactly a roentgenogram was, I’ve become much more comfortable with this esoteric, even archaic word. It seems to harken back to the golden days of radiology, when simple x-ray technology was the best way to look at the mediastinum, and radiologists didn’t have to compete with Pulmonary docs in CXR expertise. In any case, it’s a rudimentary text which should be a good refresher, even if it doesn’t probe the extent of the implications of distinguishing between reticulonodular and ground glass patterns.
Stationery, to catch up on the thank-you notes I need to write. These range from graduation gifts to a dinner with friends at their cozy apartment on Marquita Street. We had a bottle of Ruffino Chianti that night, which I believe we all enjoyed.