Snip Snip

Once upon a time, I worked in operating rooms as a surgical technician. At a very basic level, I was the instrument passer, “snap” – I’d pass a small hemostat – a clamp to be applied to a bleeding spot. “suture”- I’d pass the suture material to sew up a defect, incision, or wound.

You had to know a fair amount about the anatomy the surgeon was working on and the procedure. You needed to anticipate the surgeon’s needs. Inevitably, this led to your developing increased interests in various types of surgery and a desire to work with specific surgeons. I developed interests in orthopedic and hand surgery.

Eventually, if you work with one “team” long enough, you wind up assisting a bit. You hold a retractor and other small things when interns and residents aren’t available. If you are really lucky you wind up working with surgeons who just can’t help but teach.

When I got out of grad school, I could not find a job in anthropology for love nor money. Relying on old skills, I began to work at hospitals as an aide or orderly just to make ends meet – barely. One day, at lunch, I happened to sit downfor lunch with the Operating Room crew. We talked, and over a few days, they found that at one time, I had known my way around an OR fairly thoroughly. This led to a conversation with the OR supervisor and an offer to work in the OR. I jumped at it.

A Learning Community

For the next two years, I was back in the wonderful realm of surgery. Passing instruments, holding retractors, doing what surgeons needed, and generally having a good time of it. Very early on, I discovered that I was working with an extraordinary group of nurses, technicians, anesthesiologists, and surgeons. It was an involved learning and teaching community. Some of the surgeons, for instance, actively included us technicians in post-surgical rounds in the afternoons. Why? So we could understand the wider therapeutic context of our jobs. Anatomy? One of the hand surgeons quizzed me on anatomy after surgery. He gave detailed anatomic dissertations during surgery, and if you expressed an interest in it, he expected you to pay careful attention.

You don’t have this sort of attitude everywhere. We were all making our living, but there was a drive to excel and do well for the patient, an altruism that made that OR more than just a place where surgery was done. It made it a place where people excelled at making good surgical results happen.

Afterward

After two years, I moved on to working in my selected career as an anthropologist. But I’ve thought frequently about those two years in the OR. They were a sort of pinnacle of about six years spent in various ORs over a decade. And they were important in how I thought about my career as an anthropologist as well. I carried with me the enthusiasm for teaching and sharing.

An unexpected thing happened a few years ago. I needed a hip replacement. The surgeon who was recommended to me patiently put up with my war stories about orthopedic surgery, and then surprised me. He had done a residency with my favorite surgeon and had heard some of those same stories. Of course, he did my surgery, and I had excellent results. Training tells!