My father in law, now deceased, was a nephrologist. I met him while I was in medical school. He was a reserved guy, not prone to butt into what he saw as others’ business. So I still remember that while I was considering what sort of residency to pursue, he took a surprisingly strong stance that I should go into interventional radiology. His reasoning was simple: they have a great lifestyle, they make bags and bags and bags of money, and they get to play with all the coolest gadgets.
It was tempting, I admit. As anyone who knows me can attest, I am ALL about the gadgets. I’m not averse to bags of money either. But I never gave it much consideration, mostly because I am just not real good at radiology, though for an ER doc I do OK. (A low bar, it is true.)
I sometimes regret that decision. For example, I wrote the other day about a gentleman who presented with a ruptured abdominal aortic aneurysm. We had some heroic fun in the ER resuscitating him and getting him to the OR. After the fact, I had to wonder whether it was all in vain — Read more »
*This blog post was originally published at Movin' Meat*