Last week of my current general surgical rotation.
The colonoscope responds to my touch and winkles gently trough tricky corners of bowel.
The hot snare sits perfectly.
The adhesions drop away and display my critical view.
The bosses walk out, “Call me if you run into trouble.”
The scrubs and scouts know my preferences and act as if they’re important.
I am ruler of my domain. Space time bends to my will. I am surgeon, hear me roar.
On an entirely unrelated topic, I am leaving space in my blogging schedule for a series on surgical complications.