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What Ob-Gyn Means to Me

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This essay was the winner from District IV in the recent National Junior Fellow Contest: "What Ob-Gyn Means to Me." The guidelines were to discuss why you entered the field of Ob-Gyn and what keeps you committed to providing health care for women.

Randy Fink, MD
ACOG District IV Junior Fellow

The pillow feels like a 'Nilla wafer, and the call room smells like someone's socks. The hum of the hospital soothes me with its familiarity, its distant beeps and rattles snuffed out by darkness as I close my eyes for a blissful hour of rest. I reflect on what brought me to today and how, in the nighttime of countless other hospitals, ob-gyns across the nation are living the same ritual as I. Our accents are not the same, our upbringings are dissimilar, and our ages run the gamut. But despite what makes us different, day after day and night after night we return to our profession for the same reason: ours is an art; ours is a science; ours is a calling.

I became an ob-gyn because of a part of my soul that needed sharing. Ours is a calling for those who have more to give than just technical expertise and the ability to apply physiology. I am more than a surgeon, more than a birth control prescription, and more than an anatomist. And though now, as the doctors of women’s health, we galvanize to assert control over a system that tries to take the joy from our work, being an ob-gyn gives me something no lawyer will ever be able to pilfer, and no insurance company will ever be able to deny.

For I was the one who held her hand as she was wheeled into the operating room. I lent my sympathetic heart to her painful divorce. I answered her cry when she was in pain, and I gave her reassurance when she was scared. I found her disease while she could still be cured. I brought the light of her life into the world, and I got teary with her husband when I looked upon what they’d created. I helped her understand her sexuality and plan her family. I suffered with her over her loss, and let her be herself without feeling self-conscious. I shared her intimate secrets, and lived up to her confidence. I cared for her sister, and her mother, and her best friend because she believed in me enough to send them. I made it okay for her when she was nervous and embarrassed, and I fixed her problem without leaving a scar. I remembered about her grandchildren, and ached with her over her son in the war. I relished in the stories she told of her high points, and I was the one to whom she turned at her lowest, when she didn’t know where else to go.

We do more than treat illness; we treat health. We don’t just attend to patients, we take care of people. We are incumbent to the milestones of her life, and serve as counsel in the wonders of her discoveries. An obstetrician/gynecologist has the opportunity to be so much beyond that of just "physician." We modestly accept the privilege and the obligation of caring. So, at the end of the day, it is obvious to me what’s right in ob-gyn. In call rooms everywhere, we close our eyes and drift off to sleep knowing that we touched someone’s life in a way few can ever hope for the opportunity to equal.