Don’t forget the socks and shoes: a reflection on the third year of medical school
I badged myself back to the operating room and hiked up my ill-fitting scrubs. The bouffant was twice the size of my head. It made me feel like a child playing dress-up in adult clothes. As I walked to the OR, I rehearsed what I would say in my head. No matter how many surgeries I watched, I could never get over my pre-case jitters. What if I break the …
Don’t forget the socks and shoes: a reflection on the third year of medical school
