The doctor had been waiting for hours to begin the surgery. Finally, an operating room became vacant and available. I was going to observe my second surgery in Cape Verde. My assurance promptly ended when the nurse came into the physicians’ lounge and declared, “Doctor, you don’t have an assistant. Everyone is busy. Without one, you won’t able to do the surgery today.” The news did not seem to disturb the physician at all. She answered, “I have her” and pointed towards me. “You do?!” I thought. When the nurse left, I reminded the physician that I had never helped on a surgery. I made sure she knew I was not one of the residents. “I know. You will be fine!” she assured me. Her belief in my capacity gave me confidence and I decided to be attentive and follow her instructions well. I followed her example as she washed and got dressed for the sterilization surgery.
The day before, one of the residents had commented to me that some physicians get upset when they ask for a particular instrument and the assistant doesn’t give them the correct one. I felt nervous. I did not know the names of any of the surgical instruments or the proper way to hand them to her. The doctor performing the surgery is from Russia and has still great difficulty speaking Portuguese. She spoke in short commanding sentences and used gestures to reinforce her requests. It was my first time touching someone’s blood (other than my family members’) and being so close to someone’s open body. I wasn’t 100% certain that I would not feel a little queasy during the procedure.
I progressively felt more at ease with my functions. The surgery was a success and I did more than fine. At the end of the surgery, I was very excited and dying to share that experience with someone close to me. I felt that I had conquered and won a small victory. Since then I have been able to witness and at times assist with many surgeries. The one that has impressed me the most was a leg amputation of someone I’ve know since my childhood and who is closely related to my oldest nephew. I was concerned during the surgery because I had asked her several times what procedure was she going to undergo and she repeatedly told me that she did not know. I felt that a part of her was dying and being drastically taken way from her in front of of my eyes. But, that death and loss was necessary to bring more life to the rest of her. I am happy that she now seems to be doing well and has a lot of faith to keep her moving forward.
The other day, I closely witnessed two surgeries and assisted with a third one. The last patient was suspected of being HIV positive. I must confess that I felt a bit tense when I found out his probable status. The OR had no special equipment available for high-risk cases. The surgeon assured me that we just needed to wear two gloves and take extra precautions to not get cut by any instrument. I was the only person available to help with that case. Plus, the surgeon knew that I’m very eager to help and learn. All of the residents had already left. Earlier on, they seemed to be bored and did not want to remain in the OR. Plus, one of them was upset because one of the surgeons kept correcting him about the right way to hand the instruments to him. I felt a wave of relief when the surgeon said that the patient’s problem seemed to be resolved and there would be no more need for surgery. I immediately felt ashamed of my feelings and it was with empathy and professionalism that I assisted with the surgery once it was again determined that it would be best to proceed with it. The procedure was quick and did not involve much work.
I must confess that I had never considered surgery as one of the specialty options for me. Perhaps, I was somewhat intimidated by the extremely high level of responsibility involving immediate life and death decisions that comes with surgery. My experience in the OR has showed me once again that I must not let my fears and lack of experience limit my success and prevent me from conquering new territories. After all, good practice makes perfect and dedication makes one go far.
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