Photo courtesy of Rachel

1 in 4.17.

The odds an employed adult is somewhat satisfied with his or her co-worker relations are 1 in 4.17.

“Well, I’ve found giving my pager number to the nurses really allows me to get even more involved in my patient’s care, because they’ll page me before paging the intern” Lisa, a fellow 3rd-year, announced, with just a touch of smug superiority in her voice.

“Lisa, that’s fantastic!” gushed Dr. D., our rotation’s director. “You all should be taking initiative just like Lisa does!”

I almost choked on my drink when he said that.

As 3rd-years, we’re obviously still students, but it’s better to think of the hospital as a workplace rather than school. While we do take exams at each rotation’s end, the majority of our grade is determined by our clinical (aka workplace) performance. Like the work world, during wards we’re put on teams and judged by our supervisors. This includes attending doctors (big boss), resident doctors (middle management), and interns (junior management).

Grades in 3rd year are also an extremely important factor in getting admitted to residency programs. Just as conniving coworkers will screw you over without second thought to get a promotion, grade obsessed 3rd-years have been known to stop at nothing to receive “honors” (like an A+) in the rotation. That kind of behavior, I’m happy to say, doesn’t run rampant in my class. But, of course, there’s always the occasional raging asshole. Lisa is one of them.

Delivering the pager line like it’d been her original brilliant idea, you would never have guessed it was actually something my team’s attending doc had suggested to me just a week ago in the computer room where we write notes. “Rachel, you’re doing a great job so far, really performing on the level of an intern (first year doctor),” said Dr. G. As I smiled and nodded my thanks to the compliment, she advised, “Start giving your pager number to nurses and ask to be paged first, so you can get more involved with your patient’s care.”

Lisa, writing progress notes in the room, heard the whole thing.

I’ll admit, overhearing how well another 3rd-year is performing provokes insecurity. “What the hell are they doing that I’m not?!” you frantically wonder. Generally though, I’m happy for classmates/friends if they’re succeeding. In that instance, I will concede, the evil, petty 3rd-year in me was kind of glad Lisa witnessed Dr. G. singing my praises. Lisa always makes me feel like I really need to compete with her to look good, so I felt a little triumphant about getting such positive feedback directly in her face. I’m slightly ashamed, but “HA! Take that!” did run through my head.

That she was subsequently trying to pass the pager idea off as her own to the rotation’s director (who also grades us) was annoying, but whatever. I understood. She wanted to impress. Thanks to sheer luck, I haven’t had to deal with her often. Most importantly, I’m not on the same team…but George is.

It’s been a stressful week, so a bunch of us decide a bar night was in order after the meeting. With each drink, George got more irate. “We’re on the SAME TEAM! That stupid bitch didn’t even have the courtesy to share?! And you KNOW she was doing it so I look like the dumb, uninterested medical student, who doesn’t give a shit about his patients! ARHH!” George is a very caring, intelligent, and capable medical student, but being on the same team as Lisa for two weeks was eating away at his sanity.

Each attending has a unique management style, so I hadn’t said much about the pager idea to the others who weren’t working with Dr. G. But, as a whole, 3rd-years look out for each another, passing on what anatomy you’ll be pimped on, which docs throw out trick questions, etc. We all know how vital it is to look good this year. Lisa could’ve easily helped George out by letting him know that their attending doc supported giving pager numbers to nurses. But it’s pretty clear she kept it to herself to appear more on top of things.

I sincerely hope that, somewhere along the line, Lisa’s crappy tendencies get beaten out of her. For now, I’m absolutely praying I don’t get stuck working with her in what’s left of our 3rd year. I don’t want to be driven to the point where I get stab-happy with a scalpel. Though maybe if Lisa knew the odds a workplace death will be homicide are 1 in 9, she’d start acting a lot nicer.

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