Contagion

This is, or was going to be, my last week of clinical rotations for this year of medical school. I got a call from my preceptor this morning that he didn't want me to come in the rest of the week even though I am feeling better because he doesn't want me "infecting" all his "patients." It turns out that he does not actually have the authority to excuse me from a full week of the rotation, so later in the day I got an e-mail that I would have to make up all the time I am missing. I would much rather just finish this week, but I can't really argue because the CDC says healthcare workers should still stay out for a week. There is just something so unsatisfying about having to now squeeze some more clinical stuff into my schedule instead of just finishing, especially since it will probably all be evening shifts after a full day of lectures.

The psychiatric emergency department, where I will do the shifts, is at least an interesting place to be. Last time I walked in to see a patient and the first words out of his mouth were, "My wife is seven months pregnant and is driving me crazy." Then the resident came in and started into talking to him about women and their hormones. I did not throw any punches, but I was only barely able to overcome the (presumably hormonal) impulse to do so.