Is it my belt?

At lunchtime today, i lined up at the hospital cafe and ordered a toasted Tayla Pide, one of my favourite grilled things.
Whilst standing there, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a slim asian guy who was packing drinks into the fridge. He glanced over me at a most disconcerting frequency.
Then when i went to pay, he gave it to me for free.
It must be the belt. I'm not going to wear it again.
Looks like i found my bro a christmas present ;o)

Later in theatre, i was assisting my consultant in removing some lady's breasts. This lady had silicon injected into her breasts many years ago, and now her breasts felt like bags of pebbles on a slab of cheddar cheese.
Suddenly i noticed a perforating artery had burst and i deftly put a pad over it. As i lifted up the pad, I angled the artery away from me, but it squirted blood half a metre into the air, all over my consultants forehead. Luckily I was wearing a face mask or my consultant would have seen me laughing.

I did this yesterday too, when, in a fit of surgical zealousness I attempted to grab a bleeding artery with some forceps. Not only did I miss the artery, but I grabbed the base of fat that it was embedded in and swung it back and forth, but away from me. I succeeded in spraying both my registrar and RMO with blood. I don't know what they were thinking, but I found it quite comical.
They gained revenge later when they burst open a seroma in my direction and I was covered with clear yellow fluid.

The night was finished off on a sad note however, when a schizophrenic lady presented with acute abdominal pain, sepsis and vaginal bleeding.
She had a huge craggy subclavicular lymph node on the left, and a painful but stony hard lower abdomen.
A PV revealed a rough cervix which bled profusely on contact.
Erect CXR showed air under the diaphragm. PR was up, BP down.
We opened her up and were greeted with the smell of what seemed like rotten crabs.
Her cervical cancer had spread and necrosed her uterus, infiltrated her small intestines and as a result perforation had occurred. There was a football sized, necrotic and friable fusion of pus, gut, uterus and neoplastic tissue.
We cleaned her up, cut away the perforated segment, debrided any loose tissue and created a stoma.
So she won't die in a few days, but she'll be gone in a matter of months.
There needs to be more community follow-up in regards to mental healthcare.

Breasts on the chopping block

I find the surgery that my team performs at the moment to be rather distasteful.

My team is in the business of cutting out breast lesions, or if the cancer is too big, the whole breast.

Its just strange, to see this hallowed symbol of femininity cauterized away and placed in a bucket, to be sent off to the lab for examination.

Oh well, only one more day of this, then i have 3 weeks of holidays! Which I'm using to travel to Hong Kong and Kualar Lumpur! Booya!