Cancer Surgery Experience


February 8th, 2012                                                                                          


James Cancer  hospital and Solove Research  Institute
        Driving into the hospital with the dark skies of the early morning, I cleared my head and prepared my mind for what I was about to encounter. As I was parking at the James Cancer Hospital, I saw all the doctors with their white medical coats, some arriving and some leaving from the night shift. I tried to pretend like I was one of them facing another day at work.  As I went up the fourth floor, I met Dr. Farrar who led me to the locker room where I could change into my scrubs. I put them on and took a good look in the mirror. Thoughts were going through my mind questioning if “I could see myself in these scrubs ten years from now.” I then went back out to meet Dr. Farrar who introduced me to the doctor I would first shadow, Dr Bloomston, a very intelligent man in his mid 40’s. He went through the specifics of the surgery and explained that he was conducting a whipple procedure, which is used to treat pancreatic cancer. This is a very complex and gruesome surgery with a high complication rate. He explained to me that about 20% of observers pass out or faint while watching this particular type of surgery. As confident as I was, I was skeptical of this and thought nothing of it.
           

            Before walking into the operating room, everybody needed to maintain sterile technique. He told me not to touch anything in blue since this represented sterilized equipment. We entered the O.R which was about twenty degrees colder than the rest of the hospital. I remember instantly getting the chills along with a prominent nervous feeling as if I was conducting the surgery. Before the surgery, we all went around and said our names.  All together there were 6 of us. Dr. Bloomston went over the case with his team to make sure everybody was on the same page. At this point it got very personal. He read off the patient’s name, which is confidential, and said that she is 82 years old and had pancreatic cancer. The success rate of this surgery was 50% and at that point, it made me realize the seriousness of this surgery. I took a good look at the unconscious patient on the operating table and realized that she is a very important person in someone’s life. This surgery is about life and death which I have not yet been exposed to. She laid there, paralyzed from the anesthetics, while her family awaits in the lobby.  Her life was in the hands of these doctors.
           

Surgeons in the operating room
            To start the surgery, Dr. Bloomston’s assistant made an incision from side to side across her entire abdomen. Wiping the blood with towels, they pried her stomach open for the operation. Instead of using a traditional scalpel for the incision, they used a big needle which burns away the skin. The smell of burnt skin flooded the room and through my green surgical mask. Wide-eyed and shocked, my stomach dropped and I began to feel dizzy. I had to look the opposite way for a little while to get myself back in order.
           
            Once the doctors got to the area of need, debate come up on whether the surgery should continue or not. The tumor that was supposed to be extracted was unreachable since it had attached to the lower part of the lung. In order to take it out, they would destroy most of her lung, which would likely kill her instantly.  Based on the pre-operative exams, Dr Bloomston came to the realization that the patient didn’t want to die today. After much anger and frustration, they aborted the surgery and sewed her back up. As soon as Dr. Bloomston realized this surgery was unsuccessful, he said something that resonated with me. Out of nowhere, he said, “this is why I hate cancer.” He said that cancer is such a complex disease and it is never the same from person to person. This day in the hospital will be a life lasting memory since it was my first time observing surgery. It gave me a taste of what doctors go through each and every day and provided me with further reassurance that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.

No comments:

Post a Comment