How a resuscitator pulls patients out of the world

Both of my parents are doctors and work in the same hospital. Mom is the head of the clinical diagnostic laboratory, and dad is an anesthesiologist-resuscitator. They have both been in medicine for 33 years, they met at the institute and have not parted since then. So from childhood, I absorbed their conversations in the kitchen, where over coffee my parents casually discussed all sorts of medical issues.

Besides, I spent a lot of time with my mother in the laboratory. She poured all sorts of harmless reagents, and I played alchemist. Medicine books have always been freely available. I especially liked the atlases with detailed pictures and diagrams of the human body from the inside. I carefully examined them and thought about how beautiful it is.

When at the age of 15-16 I sat down and seriously thought about what I wanted to connect my life with, I realized that medicine is what I need. I was instilled from childhood with the idea that people need to be helped, and I did not see any other way to do this for myself.

After graduating from school with a silver medal, I easily entered the Medical University named after N.I. Pirogov.

When I finished a couple of courses, it was time to practice. To be with my parents in the summer, I took it in my hometown. I was hired as a nurse in the intensive care unit of a local hospital, and I returned there for practice every summer. Every time I tried myself in a new role: I was a nurse, an operation assistant, and a full-fledged specialist. So I know resuscitation from the bottom, starting with how to wash the ceiling and walls, and ending with nursing manipulations.

Repeatedly I had the desire to give up everything. Medical education is very difficult, as it takes almost ten years. During this time, I often asked myself the question: “Why the hell am I sailing on these galleys? What for? If I want to?” The work is hard and requires tremendous mental strain. In my case, it is also communication with dying people and their relatives. And all these moments, willy-nilly, you pass through yourself.

I was seriously going to quit because of this when I finished my residency. I was sure that I would get a certificate and forget about medicine. But my university friend persuaded me to work at least a little bit and introduced me to the person under whose supervision I still work – our head of the department. After talking with him, I realized that I was in a hurry with the decision to burn the bridges. This is how I met the people who inspired me. They made me understand that I can achieve what I want. 

In fact, sometimes we have to completely prosthetic the functions of some organs. A person cannot breathe – we give him air with the help of artificial ventilation, the heart does not work – we can help with this.

But here there are not enough just good specialists, it needs coordination. They say that the word “I” does not exist in intensive care. And it is true. Only the team works here. One doctor will not overcome a serious pathology. This can be achieved only in a normal healthy team, and I am glad that now I work in just such a team.

I am always worried about my patients, otherwise I simply cannot. There are people who sometimes dream of me even afterwards. I call it “falling in love medically”. You see this person for the first time, he can be anyone, but you look at him and understand that his fate is especially important to you. And so you try to do everything to make it easier for him.

However, I try not to maintain contact with patients after discharge. First, it’s about professional ethics. Second, I remind them of the worst moments in their lives. After all, there were times when we pulled them out practically from the grave. It is for this that they become a doctor. To say to yourself with confidence: “I did it, I helped the person to survive.”

When I just came to work after my residency, a young woman of about 28 years old with a combined heart defect was brought to us. Moreover, she came to us just a month after giving birth in an extremely serious condition and spent a long time on artificial lung ventilation. As a result, she stayed in the department for almost two months.

And all this time I never saw my child. Therefore, morally, it was unbearably difficult for her. And children under 14 cannot be brought to the intensive care unit, this is due to their safety.

Her husband, mother-in-law, mother constantly came to her. On daily shifts, I always tried to go to her, communicate. We showed her to many specialists, wrote to Israel, but everyone said that they could not afford the operation she needed. This lasted until the head of the cardiac surgery department hit the table with his fist and operated on her himself.

Two weeks after the operation, she went home. I managed to survive. But not only thanks to the support of relatives and medical help, but also thanks to the exceptional willpower. We pulled her literally by the thread out of this difficult situation.

She is now alive, comes for routine check-ups with a cardiologist, and the very thought that we have done everything in our power to have a child with a mother gives strength to continue working. Do what I can and improve.

Another incident comes to mind. Last year we had a patient with unrealistically severe pneumonia with complications. Her lungs barely worked. Also young – about 30 years old. I came to the capital on a business trip, a mother of three children. We hooked her up to an “artificial lung”. This is the only way we were able to give her time for the inflammatory process in the lungs to subside a little and she could breathe on her own. She also stayed with us for about two months.

This woman left for her city with the words that she would not go to Moscow again. And I understand her perfectly, as being in intensive care is unbearable.

There is an aspect in my profession that each of us does not like most of all. Sometimes we cannot overcome the disease and the patient dies. Someone should inform his relatives about this. I had to say this more than once, both on the phone and in person. The scariest moment I had was when we fought for a long time for a patient with lung cancer. Unfortunately, we couldn’t do anything. Literally twenty minutes after I declared her death, her relatives came to visit her. They took with them the patient’s grandson, a boy of about 10.

I had to explain to him what death is and how to accept it. That in this situation it is not his fault. Very often you have to talk to people for a long time, to prove to them that they are not to blame for what happened. In Russia, after all, it is generally not customary to raise the topic of death. Very little is said about how each of us experiences the moment of losing a loved one.  

It took me a while to notice that I was burning out. This manifested itself in the fact that I became emotionally cold and detached even with friends and family. I needed to find an outlet. For me, it was shooting and painting. Yes, it was shooting. 

I try to sleep at least 12 hours when I return from my daily shift. A tired doctor is known to be dangerous for patients. I spend time with my friends, take care of my cats.

Laughter also saves. The opinion that doctors have very dark humor is far from a myth. I am the type of people who try to joke in difficult times. When it hurts, I laugh, this is my psychological defense. And very often there is a positive attitude in our staff room. We try to cheer each other up. Sometimes these are dark jokes, but humor is a cure for pain.

Conventionally, our profession is considered male, but I can safely say: there are about the same number of female anesthesiologists-resuscitators today as there are men. About the same now in surgery. 

Women sometimes have a harder time in the sense that we react differently to situations with men. Men think a little faster and, therefore, instantly sort out any problem logically. But in fact, this difference is negligible: it does not appear in any way on the final result.

99% of the difficulties that arise in my work are due to the fact that I simply do not have enough physical strength. Therefore, almost all the women of my profession, whom I know, go to fitness or gym. This is not a whim, but a necessity. 

Still, anesthesia is a very responsible thing. As you know, “there are small operations, but there are no small anesthesia.” But you shouldn’t be afraid of them. People are usually most afraid of waking up during surgery and feeling everything that is happening, but this complication is extremely rare – less than 1% of cases.

The drugs used for anesthesia are actually invented in order to prevent such an outcome of events. True, there is no universal mixture for anesthesia. For each patient, drugs are selected taking into account individual characteristics. For example, depending on age, weight, bad habits, and so on. 

Despite the fact that my profession is very difficult and requires complete dedication, I do not see myself anywhere else besides the intensive care unit. I’m glad that my parents are proud of me. This is what I love and I hope that I am in my place here.