Thorn in my flesh (creative nonfiction)

A cold chill gushed through my spine, sending an unusual wave of insecurity as one of my consultants, Dr. Sharon (actual name withheld) shot me with different questions relating to the patient under my care, barely giving me the chance to give a response, even if it was going to be an attempt. For every delay I exhibited before opening my mouth, she threw in another and a little sarcasm, probably an attempt by her to dampen my spirit. I had junior doctors present during the ward round and for the novice, they would probably think I was dull or maybe mute. However, rather than look down like a dejected soul, I stood my ground unshaken, determined not to give her the feeling of victory or superiority which she already owned the latter. So, I stayed still and absorbed all the rants about the mismanagement of the patient she told me about. She was not my unit consultant but, here we were in a tense atmosphere all because I used a different approach of management other than what she preferred.

Many thoughts collided in my head like cloudy water full of particles. "I'm sorry ma," was all my ears picked from my mouth, spilling that before I could still it.

"Sorry for yourself!" She spat back and dismissed me, ignoring me as though I was nonexistent. I stood my ground and endured the aftermath of her humiliation, carefully avoiding any contact with her. The ward round ended a few minutes later and we all dispersed to our various units.

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"My partner, what happened? Why was Dr. Sharon hard on you?" Dr. Rabiu (actual name withheld) asked me after we dispersed. We fondly called each other partners because we were paired most times to oversee the labor ward and emergency units respectively.

"I wish I knew my partner but I'm at a loss. I'll be fine, thanks for your concern." I said, faking as much smile as I could.

"Just stay clear of her lane, she's bad energy." Dr. Rabiu advised and walked back to her station. I manned the emergency unit and since I was not on call that day, my closing hour was 4 p.m., and I planned to escape as soon as possible because Dr. Sharon had a call to take from 4 p.m. The only way I could escape her was to clear the emergency before she revisited about 4 p.m. for triaging. Well, here in Nigeria, government hospitals are often overburdened with patients seeking care and my scenario was worsened since I was dealing with obstetrics and gynecology, different women would come with emergencies and sometimes, present because of delivery.

And yet again, I admitted a patient I worked up for cesarean section (CS) but the challenge was financing. I knew the patient was going to delay me but, I prayed deep down that I would be able to hand over the patient to my colleagues before the consultant showed up. Perhaps the heavens were against me as Dr. Sharon popped up before 4 p.m. and took over the patient from me herself however with a strict warning, "Make sure you don't leave the hospital premises till this patient is ready for CS!". I knew my day was ruined, falling from the earlier encounter to the index case. I sat on the wooden chair in the consulting room where I saw patients, wondering what I had done wrong to have such a horrible encounter. The patient and relatives weren't forthcoming financially and I was at a loss on how best to tackle the situation. My mind gave up on leaving the hospital by 4 p.m. with the turn of events. I made a few calls to the hospital administrator and he agreed to place the patient on deferment, an arrangement the hospital does as an interim when there is a financial constraint on the part of the patient.

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With the financial aspect of the operation taken care of, I had to plead with the nurses and hospital attendants to help me wheel the patient to the theatre which was about five minutes away. Unfortunately, they were busy and I had no choice but to wait till they were done. It was unprofessional for me to wheel a patient to the theatre and I was not willing to take that mantle at that hour. Eventually, at about 7 p.m., we wheeled the patient to the theatre with me treading behind lazily, both from exhaustion and a dampened morale.

I walked into the corridor of the theatre and met Dr. Sharon with a colleague doctor. She exclaimed immediately when she saw me.

"I've brought your patient ma," I said hastily, unwilling to give her any audience.

"So, you stayed back? I didn't mean what I said earlier." Dr. Sharon said, turning towards me with a show of sympathy.

"You're the consultant ma, I can't disregard your words," I replied almost immediately.

"I didn't mean to keep you till now, okay? Sorry about that." Dr. Sharon said but at that point, I was deeply hurt and all I wanted was to escape the whole hospital's toxic environment. I walked out of the theatre immediately without looking back, her words echoed to my colleague on how she didn't intend I stayed beyond 4 p.m.

About thirty minutes later, I saw Dr. Sharon's call but intentionally refused to pick up. I knew she wanted to apologize but, at that point, it took me a lot of courage not to break down.

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I wish I could avoid Dr. Sharon altogether but being in the same obstetrics and gynecology department (though different units) made that difficult. Back in medical school, I knew consultants loved to be worshipped while compensating their puppets with favoritism and those they hated with scornful attitudes. Here I was at the mercy of Dr. Sharon, one she just didn't like for untold reasons.

Barely a month later, I had an external examination (residency examination) to partake in alongside my colleagues (of which one of her favorites) was among. My colleague who was her puppet took three weeks of absence from work to prepare for the same examination while I took only a week off. Luckily for me, I had applied myself several months before the examination but with Dr. Sharon's detest of me, I knew I had to do my best and pass the examination. It was my wake-up call to prove myself worthwhile. Dr. Sharon at some point in a sarcastic manner asked why I took only a week off instead of three weeks like others.

"One week is fine by me ma. Even three days would suffice if possible ma" I said and shrugged her off.
After the examination, we anticipated favorable results alongside four other colleagues. The examination was undoubtedly tough yet, I stayed optimistic and thankfully, I passed it, especially as a first attempt, and happened to be the only one that passed among my other colleagues in the hospital. The news flew like wildfire, making me feel accomplished.

Little did I know the victory of the examination battle was fuel to Dr. Sharon's dislike of me. During one of our reviews at work, the words from Dr. Sharon hit me mostly like a stab in the chest when she publicly stated her dislike for me, especially in the presence of colleagues, juniors, and seniors.

"Why don't you like Dr. Musa" A loving consultant of mine interrupted Dr. Sharon.

"He's not so aggressive to patient care, he's kind of sluggish." Dr. Sharon replied without remorse.

"That's not enough not to like him. I like him for being calm and you know that is the kind of doctor we women want. We want doctors that are cslm and empathetic. He would be a fantastic gynecologist with such an attitude." My favorite consultant defended me. At that point, I was glad Dr. Sharon spoke her mind but what excited me more was having a consultant stand up for me.

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Shortly after Dr. Sharon's open confession, I turned in my resignation from clinical practice, having secured a better job offer than the toxic environment I was struggling to survive. I was also glad to have passed the examination even if it was for record purposes though not need the result in the new job offer I secured.