Saturday calls have the feel of putting out small bush fires. Although most of the sixty plus patients you are covering will not bother you, the good twenty or so that will are enough to make you contemplate a career change. I remember those idyllic medical student days, when I would never write an order for pain without checking and examining the patient. At the end of your first 24 hour float call, you are pushing narcotics like any street criminal. ( IV Morphine .... ahh ... my panacea for pain/agitation/putulance/insomnia. How I love thee. Let me count the ways.) The trouble is explaining it to the team the next morning.

You begin to hate the words "What is your name?" when a nurse asks you at the end of a page. Because then they can put "MD Wang made aware" from which point any calamity can be pinpointed to you. And at times, MD Wang was not made aware. Figures. With 60 patients to cover, they definitely figure they can slip a fast one by you.

This is when you realize that so much of intern year is not about learning. It's about keeping your head out of the water, gasping for air when you can. When you realize there is no sympathy, that everyone wants something right then and now, and all responsibility falls on you, as soon as you are "made aware". And that MD is not as glamorous as you thought it was on graduation day.