I was rotating through orthopaedics and was on call that night. They tended to relegate us mere general surgeons to casualties during the calls so I was quite excited to get some theater time that afternoon, even if it was for a simple wound inspection and secondary closure and even if it meant there would be a backlog of patients in casualties for me to see afterwards. Once I had finished operating I rushed through the change rooms to get back to casualties. While I was changing I heard the unmistakable sounds of someone throwing up in the toilet cubicle. Quite soon the door opened and out came the orthopaedic registrar who was on call that night with me. He did not look good. He glanced at me but didn’t seem to see me. His face was pale, verging on grey and there were fine droplets of sweat on his brow. He was staggering slightly as he made his way to the basin to throw water over his face. I greeted him but the only reply he gave was a sort of grunt.
Much later that night Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at other things amanzi*