It's the little things

Today, I anesthetized a 4-month old baby for repair of a unilateral inguinal hernia. The kid was ADORABLE. He was laughing and smiling at just about everyone. He was even cannulated while his mother held him before entering the O/R with nothing but a tiny whimper which lasted for a fraction of a second. That's an impressive feat for an age where cannulation usually equals screams of bloody murder and a lot of kicking and scratching.
So we hooked him up to the monitor, while trying to keep him from sticking just about every cable that came near him into his mouth. A couple of ccs from the big needle and he actually went to sleep with a smile on his face.
Then he proceeded to pee over everything.

A Glimpse Ahead?

Today, I gave a 39 year-old woman general anesthesia for dilatation and curettage after she miscarried at 8 weeks of pregnancy. She had been married for 3 years, this was her second miscarriage and she had no living children. She was understandably depressed and was in tears. I calmed her down the best I could but being the selfish human being that I am, I couldn't help but wonder if that could be me in 12 years. Am I letting the days pass me by not actively trying to have a family of my own, until it's too late?
How do you even "actively" pursue that?
Do I even really want kids, or is it more of a social obligation in my community?
What sort of mother will I be?
Will I ever even fall in love and find a reciprocation of those feelings are am I doomed to be "forever alone"?
Questions, questions....big syringe, small syringe. Sleep tight, everything will hopefully, turn out for the best for everyone. Even if they don't really know what that is, yet.

The Young Granny

Today, I gave a 37 year-old woman spinal anesthesia for a cesarean section. She had 5 living children, three of which were delivered by c-sections. The following conversation took place:

Me: You really needed a sixth one, huh?
Her: I'm actually almost a grandmother!
Me (internally): What the fuck..
Me (externally): How's that possible? Did you have your first child when you were 15?
Her: No, I was married at 15. I had her at 16. Now she's 20 and four months pregnant.
Me: What? You were afraid your grandkid would get lonely, so you decided to give him a playmate?
Her: Mwahahaha..sort of. Say, doc. I have a request to ask of you.
Me: Sure...
Her: If I die during the operation...
Me: A little morbid, aren't we?
Her: No, really.... please ask my husband to bury me in my family's cemetery, not in his family's cemetery because his father and I never got along and we'd probably spend eternity fighting under there.
Me (internally): ............What..the...fuck...?
Me (externally): Uh-huh....God willing you'll get out of here in perfect health to see your children and your grandchild, too.
Her: God willing. Won't that needle hurt my back? I tried it once before and my back hurts when I work cleaning houses.
Me: You know what else might hurt? Six pregnancies. This needle hardly compares with the load those have put on your back.
Her: Yeah, you're probably right. Will you stay with me during the operation?
Me: Sure, where else would I go?