Typical Day
At 6:00AM, Nour Al Ajji is out of bed and in the shower. After she gets out of the shower, she wakes up her eight-year-old son. He resists, but Nour eventually gets him out of bed. Five minutes later, at 6:40AM, Nour is out the door for work.
This early, she usually manages to beat some of the rush hour, and arrives at work by 7:00AM. Within five minutes, Nour has signed and updated the day's surgical H&P's (history and physical examinations).
At 7:10AM, she busts out the blueberry muffin she brought from home.
They're an old family recipe involving a gross amount of butte...but the muffins are also a family tradition so she eats them happily. She always makes them on Sunday evenings with her son. After she returned to work full-time as a neurosurgeon, they had been having a hard time finding time for each other as a family.
At 7:30AM, Nour meets her first surgical patient of the day in pre-op, signs her charts, and dresses in scrubs. According to the chart, the patient had recurring headaches, drowsiness, and supposedly had had a seizure. A doctor then found a tumor. As Nour explains to the patient's family, surgical removal is the first necessary step before launching aggressive chemotherapy. The family seems scared, as was warranted. As a professional with years of experience in these talks, Nour knows exactly what to say to be empathetic while still professional.
While Patient One (she has a name, but Nour can never keep patient names straight) is prepped, Nour goes to handle the next case, a small outpatient procedure. Just as she's sitting down with Patient Two, however, Nour receives a page about an emergency cerebellar stroke en route to the ICU. She's needed as a consultant. She bids a quick goodbye to Patient Two, explaining that another doctor will come to see him soon, and rushes to the ICU.
She arrives just as the patient—her surprise Patient Three—is being carted in on a stretcher. Even from one look at the patient she can tell it's bad.
After an initial observation, Nour returns to Patient Two and, in her next break in the day, reviews some of the films of the stroke patient, number Three. She decides that the patient needs an immediate craniectomy. While still operating on Patient Two, Nour occasionally sends instructions on anesthesia to the medics working with Patient Three.
She's an expert multitasker. She has to be. But, it's not like she's performing brain surgery or anything... (Source)
Out of surgery finally, Nour wraps up case two, and rushes up to see Patient Three again. It seems they'll need to operate immediately. Nour checks her watch: 12:30PM, lunchtime for most folks working nine-to-five jobs. Thinking of her son, who is probably eating the peanut butter and jelly sandwich her husband makes for him every morning, Nour feels momentarily envious of those people.
But only momentarily. She has too much to do.
Close to 2:00PM, Nour drops in on the doctor's lounge to heat a cup of soup. Clicking through the channels on the TV, Nour settles on the day's news. A breaking story on health care reform catches her eye. She can hardly keep up with this sort of thing lately. She just knows she's sick of being pushed around by insurance companies. That's for sure.
At 2:30PM, Nour is told that another patient has just entered the OR. Pulling her scrubs back on, Nour rushes in. She's always rushing places. At close to 5:00PM, she's still operating. She wants to be home right now, with her son and her husband. She thinks briefly about whether she can leave early and do some of the chart work at home....
At 6:00PM, the surgery is finally done. She writes the postop orders, and speaks with the terror-stricken family crowded outside the patient's room. Then she goes to see another patient about a brain mass. As the clock hands move dangerously close to 7:00PM and the work keeps on piling on, Nour texts her husband to tell him that she won't make it home for dinner. He sends back: ":(" She reminds him of the hummus and pita they have in the fridge, and suggests they order pizza if they feel like it. She feels terrible.
After 8:00PM, Nour is still meeting with patients and patients' families. With each meeting, she needs to explain why she's late. She hates the apology part; they don't know how demanding her job is. Thankfully, few of the family members seem to blame her.
At 9:30PM, Nour grabs her sweater and scarf from her office and speeds home as fast as she can. She arrives just in time to kiss her son good night and watch an HBO episode with her husband before passing out for the night.