I am a doctor. I am better than you, and you, and you and you….

So I've noticed this interesting phenonoman since I've had this MD attached to the back of my name. I have been attracting snobs like flies to honey.

Now, I am distinctly unsnobby. Granted, I do love the occasional Michael Kors purse and I swear to god I AM GOING TO BUY THAT LOUIS VITTON BAG when I finish residency if I have to use two credit cards to charge it, but really, I can hobnob with anyone. My best friends have no pretensions whatsoever, and the reason I got into medicine was because of my work at the SF AIDS foundation. I am not in medicine to cater to the rich or to be rich myself. So much to my surprise, as soon as I mention I am a doctor (and I only do so rarely when pushed to be specific) that the snobs in the room start striking up conversations with me as if just by being a doctor I have something worthwhile to say.

I rarely have anything worthwhile to say.

Like there was this one time when Brad and I were at this rather posh wine bar in Napa guzzeling some Cab Franc and somehow we get into conversation with the bartender about how happy his job is and how sad my job is.

"oh, and what do you do," he says, while shaking up another cocktail designed to chase away all my MICU anxiety.

"uhhh, well, I'm a doctor, resident actually……just doing the training thing up in Davis," I say.

At which point, the blond woman next to me swivels in her chair,

"OHHH, I finished residency TOO, in NEW YORK, but I REALLY didn't like it, the people were so DIRTY. " She shudders.

I blink. I really don't have another response. But I do notice that she has on some pretty ginormous diamond jewelry.

"it just WASN'T the right career for me. LUCKILY, my husband is in FINANCE, and he said, Honey, why don't you just QUIT. So I quit."

"uh. Huh." I say. I also notice that her face doesn’t move when she talks.

"of course, ALL our friends are DOCTORS or LAWYERS, and we have this weekly cocktail thing going on with this DERMATOLOGY COUPLE… so nice to hang out with them".

Brad has since moved slowly away from the table…leaving me to fend off the vultures by myself.

I could go on. But suffice it to say that I couldn't find a polite way to leave for another 1/2 hour, and not until after she had raved on about her cosmetic surgery last year and how her surgeon was SUPERB, just SUPERB, and only then, could I sidle away thinking GOOD GOD, please tell me I'm not going to turn into this shallow bitch...

The resident from HELL.

I'm on MICU right now, a rotation that can be hell if the people around you are unsupportive, nasty or rude. I tried going in with an open mind, but thanks to the worst resident I've ever had to work with, my experience has so far bordered on unendurable.

My resident (a wanna be cardiologist) has so far insulted everyone on the team. He bashed the anesthesiologist resident in front of the anesthesiologist intern, he denigrated the ER residents daily, in particular lingering on the words "lazy" and " ill-trained" and he yelled at one of the nurses in front of the patient's family.

He screwed up a very important discussion with a family on code status (and yes, I offered to talk to the family instead and was rejected), is quick to lose his temper and curses frequently when frustrated.

My resident exhibits no eye contact, stammers when he talks, REALLY STAMMERS when he yells and has caused me to screw up 2 A-lines thanks to his incessant lecturing while I was trying to place the line.

He has also threatened to call my program director after learning that I still had to do clinic during this month…but quickly backtracked when I volunteered the director's pager and called him on his bluff.

I welcome any other resident from hell stories.

This is insanity.

You have metastatic breast cancer. You are intubated and obtunded. You have lytic lesions in your spine and a fungating mass growing out of your right breast. Rad Onc has told you you will die. So has Heme Onc.

Why are you a full code?