Sacramento, CA – Dr. Atul, a general surgeon, who evidently graduated from medical school thinks he can actually start a surgical case a 3pm! What an idiot!!!

Dr. Atul, who passed his surgical boards, was seen at the control desk at 3:17pm asking why his patient was not in the OR. “My case was scheduled 17 minutes ago!” he was overheard sounding frustrated at the charge nurse.

Dr. Atul, who is normally well-liked and friendly to all the OR staff, even Anesthesia, is totally baffled that ORs around the country completely shut down from 2:40 to 3:30. No way will nurses start a case after 2:30pm because the paperwork takes almost a half hour to complete and shift change is at 3.

Dr. Atul, bless your heart.

St. Peter, MN – Physician on FIRE, an anesthesiologist and financial blogger, recently hit the magical goal of Financial Independence and Retire Early (FIRE) in his mid 40s. Once he achieved ‘FIRE status’ JACHO and hospital administration determined he was too much of a fire risk to be in the operating room.

“I’m sorry if you are over a fire risk score of 4 you can’t be in the OR,” charge nurse Jackie told reporters.

Last week during the pre-surgical time out the anesthesiologist or “Physician on FIRE” stated the fire risk score was “on FIRE!”

He then lifted a 20mL syringe of propofol in a horizontal fashion, and performed a “mic drop.” He then proceeded to provide anesthesia for the patient in a safe, effective manner until completion of surgery.

When the patient was transferred to the PACU he proceeded to moon-walk out of the hospital, to the envy of physicians everywhere.

“He can’t be in the OR anymore,” Jackie repeated. “He’s too much of a FIRE risk.”

Yes he is. He is on FIRE.

HOUSTON, TX – Dr. Alan Payne, an anesthesiologist and physicist, proposes the use of metric time for determining surgical time duration.

“How many times at your facility have you ask your surgeon for a time estimate and the surgeon tells you, ‘10 minutes till we’re done.’  But 20 or even 30 minutes later, they’re still not closing skin!” explains Dr. Payne.  “This simple question can often offend the surgeon.  We are asking the question not to suggest that that surgeon is operating slowly, but to determine the amount of anesthesia medications we still need to administer to the patient.”

This is why Payne has implemented “metric time” in their operating rooms.  “One metric minute is equivalent to 2.8 standard minutes.  Once we enter the operating room, we initiate metric time.  The results have been remarkable at our institution.  We have been able to stay on schedule and give staff and family member realistic time estimates for surgeries and procedures.”

Dr. Payne further explains.  “This only makes sense.  We use kilograms, not pounds.  We use liters and not pints anymore in medicine.  Time is the only non-metric unit left to standardize!  The use of metric time can also extend to football games and even at home.  When I tell my wife I’ll be home in 20 minutes, she knows that is about 40 standard minutes.  This has really reduced disappointment and realigned our expectations!”

ATLANTA, GA – “Don’t touch that!” snapped the surgical tech, referring to anything and everything in the OR at once.  Although he was standing in the center of the room, in what he believed to be a veritable desert of things to contaminate, the MS3 had failed to realize the simple truth of his situation.

According to intraoperative reports, in a blunder of epic proportions he replied, “Oh don’t worry, I won’t.”  The tech, Erin Heimdall, is said to have had a haze come across her aquiline eyes, not unlike those of a veteran soldier who had seen things that not even Roy from Blade Runner could imagine.  Fighting her better urge to simply remove this impudent stain of a human from the OR (and perhaps life in general), colleagues say she met his bravado with a “doubtful look” above her surgical mask.

His audacity to pursue a surgical career had doomed him from the start to several years of being considered gross; inherently filthy and accompanied by a choir of flies that hummed hymnals of his pestilence.  As the MS3 struggled to keep his bouffant cap down against the wavy stink lines that he emanated in Pig-Pen fashion, the inexplicably buff med rep that towered beside him let out what he later eloquently described to Gomerblog as “a big bouquet of poopsy-daisies,” which we understand to mean flatulence.

Surgical instruments were hurled with scary accuracy as the student scapegoat fled through the double doors, like rotten tomatoes towards an unfunny clown.  He punctuated his stint at acting the part of a surgeon by running into the freshly scrubbed attending, who delivered a merciful coup de grace.

Onlookers described the victim as wearing shabby scrubs that gave him a diaper butt, “an appropriate uniform given his status as a baby.”  His gloves, intertwined and suspiciously clean, might as well as have been brown the second he clumsily shoved two inadequately sterilized hands into them.  His last words were said to have been, “Maybe I’ll try family medicine…”  C’est la vie.

MIAMI, FL – General surgeon Thomas Rauch has entered into the Surgery Hall of Fame (SHOF) today after setting the temperature in his operating room to the coldest temperature known to mankind: absolute zero, which is equal to 0 Kelvin, -273.15° Celsius, or -459.67° Fahrenheit.

“What can you do but tip your frozen cap to Rauch?” said frostbitten anesthesiologist Amanda Goodwin, who hopes to walk out with at least 25% of her digits in tact by the end of the case.  “Yes, I’m clapping and jumping up and down because I appreciate the new record.  But I’m also clapping and jumping up and down because it’s freaking cold in here.”

Anyone who works with a surgeon knows that when a surgeon walks into the operating room, things are about to get frigid: not just in the surgeon’s personal demeanor, but in the temperature of the environment.  For this reason alone, anesthesiologists create drape forts as a means of maintaining warmth (sort of like an OR igloo), while nurses and techs wear an extra 10-to-20 sets of surgical gowns and disposable gloves to maintain body heat.

“Rauch’s feat is impressive for another reason: before today, absolute zero could not actually be reached based on the laws of thermodynamics, it’s only a theoretical value, a temperature at which all molecular motion ceases,” explained NASA scientist Max Richardson, his nipples shriveling up just thinking about what -273.15° Celsius must feel like.  “But I guess we can’t be surprised: it’s a feat pulled off by someone who thinks he is God.  And God can do anything.”

Well, almost anything: God can’t get prior authorizations.

The record-breaking news overshadows the fact that 5 people have died of hypothermia in operating room 7, where Rauch achieved his record.  In addition, two male surgical residents are in critical condition after their balls froze off midway during the case.  One X-ray tech has been released after slipping on one of the resident’s frozen testicles on the OR floor and injuring her back.

SAN FRANCISCO, CA – Anna Sturgeon is this year’s recipient of the prestigious award for “Best Suture Scissor-Cutting Technique.”  She narrowly beat another top promising candidate on the merit of holding her scissor 89 degrees perpendicular to the suture, as opposed to her contender’s shaking 78 degrees.

Sturgeon, understandably overwhelmed, took the time away from signing autographs for pre-meds to speak to us.  “I really felt like I was on my game during that day.  I spent the whole surgery standing very quietly and still with those scissors in my hand from the moment my resident made the first cut.  They told me it was a hazard, and to give the scissors back to the scrub nurse, but they just don’t understand how much pressure it is.  I needed to mentally prep myself and go over the technique in my head a million times.  Lucky for me, it was an 18-hour sugarbaker, so I actually could go over it a million times.”

Sturgeon smiled, her eyes distant, recalling the surgery.  “When the moment finally came, and my resident said “Cut!” and pointed to the 2.0 vicryl, I knew my moment had come.  It’s like the time had stopped still.  I could feel a bead of sweat rolling down my back.  With trembling hands, I inched closer and closer, grasping those scissors with both hands.  And… then it happened.  Snip.  I had done it.  And I had done it well.”

Her staff was impressed.  Dr. Peterson praised her medical student, saying, “You know, it really was a high-pressure situation.  There are so many ways it could go wrong.  You put a pair of scissors into a fresh med student’s hand, you never know what they can do.  I’ve had an overzealous one cut my suture leaving an 8 cm tail!  Can you even imagine?  It delayed our OR by 2 hours!  The nurses went into overtime and were feeling murderous, let me tell you.”

Sturgeon, at her awards ceremony, upon receiving the trophy, gave a speech. “As a medical student you feel like you don’t have much of a place in the OR.  You are constantly in the scrub nurse’s way, or contaminating the field.  But I want to tell you all,” Anna continued passionately, her voice wavering with emotion, “medical students do have a crucial role in the operating room.  We’re not just meant to stand still for hours until we have a vasovagal episode.  We can use our scissors and cut some sutures!  And we can do it well.  Our role in patient care could never be more paramount.”

Sturgeon thanked her parents for always supporting her dream to be a surgeon, and her kindergarten teacher for influencing her proper scissor-holding technique.

NORFOLK, VA – Anesthesiologist Thomas Kingston was the hit of the OR today.  Normally after induction and intubation, Kingston puts up the drape to signal it’s game on for Sudoku.  Not this time.  After putting up the drape, he decided to put on a puppet show for the surgical staff.

“I saw the drape go up, so I was ready to make the first incision,” said general surgeon Alex Finley with a sort of suppressed giggle.  “Next thing I know, Kingston is speaking in a falsetto voice and he introduces us to his sock puppets, Gerald the Giraffe and Zoe the Zebra!  I had no choice.  I put my instruments down; the perforated appendix had to wait until intermission!”

“I was really stoked that everyone got into it,” said Kingston, his patient’s vitals still looking great.  “Finley put his tools town, the med students and residents starting clapping their hands, and even the scrub tech and X-ray tech broke scrub.  It was awesome!  They were all sitting Indian style and we had a grand ole time!”

At one point, the scrub tech Tamara Johnson laughed so hard that she accidentally spilled a dozen or so pieces of gauze into the patient’s open abdomen.  “How many fell into the abdomen?” she asked with a thunderous laugh.  “Who knows!  All I know is that Kingston and his sock puppets are a riot!  ENCORE!  ENCORE!!”

Kingston developed a passion for sock puppets after his interest plateaued with both Sudoku and Candy Crush.

“Everyone in the OR thought I was just doing my puzzles and games over the past few months,” said a relieved Kingston after putting on an OR puppet show for the ages.  “They didn’t know I was working on my puppet show.  I’m so glad the time, effort, and hard work paid off.  That’s why I become an anesthesiologist: to provide entertainment for our surgical staff.”

The news of Kingston’s “Traveling Airway Puppet Show” spread so quickly throughout the Virginia area that surgeons are paying top dollar to have Kingston manage their patients’ airways.  “Heck, if it’s as good as I’ve heard,” said one surgeon, “I’d be willing to change the table position myself!”

CUPERTINO, CA – Apple Medical just announced their new line of OR gear for the new year: iSurgicalGown 7.  This new line takes a sharp turn from their old model by the elimination of sleeves. 

“This is really a medical breakthrough for everyone,” CEO Tim Cook told a room full of surgeons and surgical techs.  You never again have to worry about those sleeves restricting you while you operate.”

Sleeves on surgical gowns are the most common source of contamination.  Usually occurs by brushing up something not on the field.  This new line hopes to eliminate that especially with medical students.

“Typically a surgeon, or let’s be honest a medical student, with brush their sleeve against the circulator or the side of the operating table, now you don’t have to worry about this anymore!”

The crowd cheered.  “We’ve been waiting for this for years!  No more medical students to contaminate my field!” said Dr. Rasmussen, a professor at the University of Iowa.  Another surgeon was just ecstatic, Dr. Julie Smith, “It’s true those sleeves are always getting my way!”

With all new Apple products there was some push back, especially from the OB/GYN crowd.  “Who will retract the bladder now?”

“Hey if it limits medical students from closing I’m all for that!” said anesthesiologist Dr. Ben Fricks who was live-streaming the event from the OR.

Fresh on their successful elimination streak Apple plans to eliminate their EKG leads from their 12-lead EKG machines next spring.

SEATTLE, WA – In today’s competitive healthcare market, public perspectives are critical to manage.  Accordingly, emergency physicians have demanded a change of the term ER to Emergency Departments.  In a rare move, surgeons are following the lead of another specialty.

“We are sick of the OR being called the Operating Room. Don’t people know that we work in more than one room? It’s an entire department!” Dr. Steele, a General Surgeon told GomerBlog.

“As long as people think the OR is a single room, we won’t get any respect or prestige,” as he unplugged his cherry red Tesla from his special parking space at Hope Hospital.  Dr. Steele continued, “This is my life purpose, all ORs must be renamed to ODs.”

Name changes, however, can create confusion.  Dr. Singh, an emergency physician, told us, “Since the name change to ED, I’ve started seeing patients come by ambulance for refills of their erectile dysfunction drugs.”

Life is full of great mysteries: Why did the dinosaurs become extinct? Why is Donald Trump running for president? Is normal saline normal?  But here’s the greatest mystery of all: Why do anesthesiologists really put up that drape in the OR?  It’s a question that has haunted healthcare providers since drapes were invented by Sir William Drapes in 1746.  Let’s take a look at some of GomerBlog’s most compelling theories.

Anesthesiologists hate pants.

It’s a lot of responsibility taking care of an airway, let alone administering local or general anesthesia and monitoring all of a patient’s vital signs during the duration of surgery.  It’s a lot of heat and pressure, so what better way to cool down than to not wear any pants?

Anesthesiologists are a shy and humble lot; wouldn’t you be embarrassed if fellow health care practitioners saw you performing your job in a thong?  Of course you would!  Just think of the drapes as the entry to a dressing room, except that it takes one to twelve hours to change outfits.  Doesn’t that cool artificial breeze feel good against those naked legs and feet?

They are preparing for the World Sudoku Championships.

Anesthesiologists will tell you the most interesting stuff happens during takeoffs and landings; the middle part is utterly boring.  Not many realize modern Sudoku was created with bored anesthesiologists in mind.  Sudoku and anesthesiology are so intertwined that nearly three quarters of board certification is dedicated to solving those addictive 9-by-9 grids.  Unlike other fields of medicine, seniority is not defined by age or years in practice: it is by highest finish at a World Sudoku Championship, which will take place this year in Sofia, Bulgaria.  Good luck!

To sneak out, perhaps to grab a bite, get car washed, or grab friend at airport.

Let’s face it: some of these surgeries are long.  Like long long.  Fact: the higher the top level of the drape, the higher the likelihood an anesthesiologist will make a break for it.  To do what?  Most likely to grab something to eat, though some may go to the airport to pick up a friend or go home to finish laundry and even iron a bit.  It depends on the surgery.  Surgeons, pay attention!  If you can see an anesthesiologist’s head and torso, you can feel good that he or she will be in it for the long haul.  If you can’t see anything at all, be warned: peace out, anesthesiology is already gone!

Anesthesiologists faint, vomit at the sight of blood.

Who would’ve thought they have such weak stomachs when it comes to seeing blood?  Before drapes, anesthesiologists could actually see that surgery meant cutting part of the human body open to fix it and this was not pleasing to them.  It made them queasy and most would vomit.  But without that protective drape to deflect the vomit, lots of it ended up inside innocent body cavities, which was bad for patient care.  Drapes are the anesthesiologist’s blinders.  They’re also effective at keeping anesthesiology vomit away from the sterile field.

To keep surgeons at bay, who can wander sometimes.

Anesthesiologists say drapes are needed to define an OR’s boundaries.  Without them, anesthesiologists believe surgeons will naturally wander towards the head of the bed and start mucking around with the endotracheal tube, anesthetic machine, or, worse, their Sudoku puzzles.  That was why the Treaty of Drapes was signed on April 14, 1982, which defined the drape as a “neutral zone dividing the territories of surgery and anesthesiology,” thus bringing a much-needed truce to decades of ugly hostilities between the two sides.

There is no role, there is merely a drape surplus.

Hospital administration has no concept of what resources in a hospital are truly needed, which explains why hospitals lack good nurses, physicians, and other providers while the supply room has 4 million metric tons of unused drapes.  “There’s a sh*t ton of drapes back there,” said an anonymous and pantless anesthesiologist.  “We figured we might as well use them.  In fact, next case, we’re thinking about building some epic drape forts, you in?”