Edit: guys this is not ChatGPT. This is something that actually happened to me. I wrote about it because it was such an insane experience and genuinely want to know if anyone has had something similar happen to them.
I have been having a really difficult time on my surgery rotation, and something happened this week that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.
For context, I’ve been 100% set on surgery throughout medical school. I’ve served on a national surgical board, taught suturing classes, and taken a dissection elective so many times that my school eventually started paying me for my work. I’ve been told time and time again that I have the skill set and attitude to succeed in surgery, and until recently, I never really questioned that it was what I wanted to do. I should also mention that I’m a 4’11”, child-looking, 26-year-old woman. I’ve never really felt like my appearance affected how people perceived me or my abilities, but these past few weeks have honestly made me start questioning that.
Three weeks ago, I started my general surgery rotation, and my God, I have been absolutely MISERABLE. In my first two weeks, I scrubbed in a grand total of twice. The first time lasted maybe two minutes because the resident wouldn’t let me help close port sites. The second time, I got my ass absolutely handed to me by an attending because I didn’t know the full steps of a tracheostomy. She told me I needed to get my shit together if I ever wanted to audition for her program.
In general, I’ve been treated like some sort of inconvenience who’s constantly getting in the way of everyone’s “real work” (actual words said to me). I feel like I’m barely acknowledged unless I’m doing something wrong, and I’ve spent most of my time just trying to stay out of everyone’s way.
I keep telling myself it’s the program and not the field. I’ve talked to visiting residents who have reassured me of the same thing and encouraged me to do an elective with them. Other people, though, have told me that if I’m questioning surgery at all, then maybe it just isn’t for me. And that has really been getting to me.
I’ve spent years working toward this, and suddenly I’m questioning whether I want to spend my life around people who make me feel so small. I’ve been going back and forth in my head, wondering if I’m being too sensitive, if I just need thicker skin, or if I’m genuinely getting a glimpse of what my future could look like. More than anything, I’ve been disappointed in myself for even considering giving up something I’ve wanted for so long because of a few miserable people.
This week I finally had a day where I actually got to participate in surgery. I was able to scrub in, help with small parts of the procedures, and feel like I was contributing something. One of the cases involved an older woman undergoing abdominal surgery, and I had the opportunity to assist in ways I hadn’t been allowed to before. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking, but after spending weeks feeling completely useless, I was genuinely thrilled just to be there.
I’ve always had this little habit when I’m working with patients. I’m not religious, but whenever I get the chance to place a hand on someone, I take a moment to silently send them some sort of good intention or positive energy. I don’t really know how else to describe it. I used to do the same thing in the cadaver lab, even though those individuals had already passed. It was just my way of acknowledging that this was a person, someone who was allowing me to learn from them, and that I was grateful for it. So I did the same thing during this woman’s surgery.
The case went well, and I left the hospital that day happier than I’d been in weeks. For the first time since starting the rotation, I was reminded of why I loved surgery in the first place. Not the prestige or the idea of being a surgeon, but the actual work. Being in the OR, working with my hands, learning anatomy, and having the privilege of caring for someone in such a vulnerable state. That was what I wanted.
The next morning, we saw the same patient during rounds. After the residents finished with her, they left her lying flat in bed. Bedside manner hasn’t exactly been a priority on this service, so I stayed behind to raise her bed and make sure she was comfortable.
As I was adjusting things, she looked at me and said, “I know you.” I laughed a little and said, “Well, I was at your surgery yesterday!”
She looked at me and said, “I know. I felt your spirit with me when I was under.”
I genuinely didn’t know what to say. Of course, my immediate thought was that she was probably a little out of it from her medications. I was trying to come up with some sort of rational explanation, but I was also curious to hear what she meant.
She told me she felt like she already knew me, that she could sense I had been there with her, watching over her, and that I had a kind spirit.
Now, I know there are plenty of explanations for this sort of thing. But what got me was that there really hadn’t been much opportunity for her to recognize me. I was covered in a mask and surgical cap, and I hadn’t spoken much during the procedure. Before I left, she asked if I would come back and see her later.
When I had a free moment that afternoon, I did. She had a family member visiting, and I was honestly relieved because part of me was still wondering if she would even remember our conversation from that morning. She did!
We ended up talking for quite a while. I learned about her life, her family, and who she was outside of the hospital. I thanked her for allowing me to be part of her care and told her that she had been my teacher. Without patients like her, I wouldn’t have the opportunity to learn any of this. It was just a really lovely conversation.
Eventually, I told her a little about myself and what I’d been going through. I explained how much I had always wanted to be a surgeon, but that the past few weeks had made me question whether I was really cut out for it. I told her how discouraged I’d been feeling and how strange it was to suddenly be so unsure of something I’d spent years working toward.
At one point, I half-jokingly told her, “If you tell me to keep going, I’ll work toward matching into surgery.”
She thought about it for a moment and said, “I want you to do what you know you will be the best at.” And without even thinking about it, my mind went straight to surgery. Then she added, “And knowing you, you will be the boss.”
I don’t know why, but that absolutely broke me. Here was this woman who had known me for maybe a few hours, telling me exactly what I had been needing to hear for weeks. She didn’t know the extent of how miserable I’d been or how much I’d been questioning myself. She had no reason to know any of it.
I had spent the past three weeks feeling invisible, like I was a burden to everyone around me, and somehow this woman, who barely knew me, made me feel more seen than anyone else had. And what really gets me is that I wasn’t even supposed to have some profound interaction with her. I was just happy to finally be involved in a surgery. The following morning, I only stayed behind because I noticed she was uncomfortable and wanted to help her. It was such a small, ordinary moment, and somehow it turned into something I think I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.
I’m not religious, and I tend to look for scientific explanations for things. I know she could have been influenced by medications, or maybe she simply picked up on something in the way I interacted with her. I don’t know. I’m not necessarily suggesting anything supernatural happened. But I also can’t explain why meeting her, at that exact point in my life, felt so significant.
I had been feeling lower than I ever expected to feel during medical school. I was starting to resent something I’d spent years loving, and I was genuinely afraid that maybe I had been wrong about myself all along. And then I met her. I cried in the hallway after.
I don’t know if I believe in angels or fate or people being put in our paths for a reason. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. But if it was, it was a pretty incredible one. I went into that OR thinking I was there to learn something from her surgery. I never expected that she would end up teaching me something about myself. I’m still not sure what to make of the whole experience, but I think it was exactly what I needed.
Has anyone else had an experience like this with a patient? Or had someone come into your life at exactly the right moment and say something that stayed with you? I’d really love to hear your thoughts, advice, or similar stories.
TLDR: I have been struggling on a hostile surgery rotation and questioning my dream of becoming a surgeon. During rounds a patient said she felt my spirit with her during surgery and encourages me to pursue what I know I’ll be the best at. The encounter made me feel seen and reminds me why I love surgery. Though I’m not sure whether it was coincidence, medication, intuition, or something spiritual, the patient gave me exactly the reassurance I needed.
