12 weeks of CPE over and done with. The only part still looming before me was my final two on-calls, back to back. I am finishing up the first of those now, and it has not been without incident. 12 weeks of this whole program and 6 on-call shifts prior have I managed to stay out of 3 West. Give me your collapsed lungs, your stabbings, your shootings; give me your bloody car accidents, your massive subdural hematomas with midline shifts, your chainsaw accidents; give me your heart attacks, your septics, your pneumonians, but for God's sake, keep me away from the dead babies. 12 weeks and I escaped. No longer. When I saw the pager read a number that indicated the 3rd floor (Labor and Delivery), I looked upwards and chuckled, "You do have a wicked sense of humor, don't you God?" They don't page the chaplain because someone had a perfectly fine, happy delivery. Somehow I knew that I would not get out of here without confronting that particular fear. So, here I am, post-partum if you will. I blessed the child, named him and committed him to God. 18 weeks old, 8 ounces. So small, but so human looking. When I touched his forehead to bless him, the skin was soft and yielding to my touch, the bones of his head having never had the chance to form properly. Mom and Dad in tears, not knowing what to do with their hurt. I prayed that God help us with it, because this really was an awful thing that was totally unfair. But now, at the end of it, I feel my CPE experience is somehow more complete. Only nine more hours to go...that's a lot of time for a lot of things to happen. We'll see where it takes me...

-R

[Later: 2 Code Yellows back-to-back at 2:45 and 2:52 am. Both MVAs, both pt.'s ok. Slept rest of night]