In Gabriele F. Roden’s memoir,
“Behind the Ether Screen,” she writes about her experiences with medicine, and
why she chose the path of becoming an Anesthesiologist. Roden begins her story
by describing her mother’s remembrance of Gabriele’s birth. She begins by
talking about the chilly midnight on June 14, 1946 in Frankfurt, Germany, just
after the Second World War was coming to an end. Bombs attacks were still a
threat hence the obstetrical ward was located inside a tunnel like bunker. This
is when Gabriele F. Roden’s birth became an emergency. The night nurses rushed
her mother’s gurney through the hospital to the delivery room; the obstetrician
had detected a slowed heart rate with his fetal stethoscope. According to
Gabriele’s mother, the birth was severely obstructed due to a complicated
breech presentation, which now endangered both of their lives.
Gabriele’s Doctor did not have
the option to deliver her by Cesarean section, due to Resuscitative equipment
being primitive to modern standards. “A few whiffs of oxygen, followed by some
vigorous slaps on the buttocks, reversed my flaccid state of blue,” she
continues with, “Little did I know that someday I would become an expert in the
skills of resuscitation… Oxygen brushed me with the first kiss of life when I
was born; perhaps it saved my life. Little did I know that I would dispense the
same magic medicine day after day in my chosen career as an anesthesiologist”
stating how she was unaware at this time that these things we take for granted
now, saved her life and would be driving force for her career (19-21).
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| Roden's first day of school. |
She describes how she felt on her
first day of school, “I felt very grown up in my gray woolen sweater that
matched my powder-blue tartan skirt.” Upon coming home from school her father
jumped up from his office chair, that he rarely left, and he asks Gabriele how
her first day of school went. She replied with a simple “Good.” This answer
sent her father into a rage, as she had not yet learned that “good” was never good
enough (35-37).
Near her school she would notice
the brass plates that belonged to doctors of various specialties. “My attempts
to pronounce or guess the meaning of gynecology or otolaryngology gave me lots
to think about” she thought, “Sometimes I wondered what it would take to study
medicine” (45).
Roden goes on to explain why her
father’s expectation was so high, and why she started to dream about studying
medicine. She originally wished to be a surgeon, but her optical depth
perception and manual dexterity were not up to par with others. She writes, “What
I did not realize at the time of my early pull to the surgical environment was
that the specialty of anesthesiology was a natural step into an environment
that was most familiar to me,” going on to explain why, “Constant vigilance of
my father’s next outburst of temper kept me ever alert to deal with unexpected
emergencies. I learned early to adapt by staying calm and speechless until the
worst was over (55).”
Fast forward to her days in
medical school, she thinks “My entire existence during medical school in Cork
was framed by two questions: How did I get here, and where do I go from here?
(74)” Which, I think most medical students will find themself asking on a daily
basis. Roden talks about her view of grades by saying, “Good grades were cumulative
tickets to freedom, to find a place to live of my choice. Get away from home,
get away from it all. Someday it would all make sense (81).”
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| A heart surgical team works on a patient. The anesthesiologist sits at the head of the patient. |
Roden retells the first time she
was witness to an open heart surgery, “The lungs inflated and retracted in
unison like two pink sponges… Together heads and lights zoomed in on this sick
heart, which looked like a wriggly red ball of flesh. Gloved fingers felt and
searched for new possibilities,” she goes to share her excitement, “The
anesthesiologist dialed various flow meters up and down on a complex machine to
protect this life-sustaining organ in its total vulnerability… All of a sudden
there was an undeniable knowing that someday I would be a member of such a team
and stand at the head of the patient to guard his or her life throughout any
surgical intervention (78).”
Upon graduating from UCC,
University College Cork, she rethinks that, “I did not meet any of my patients
in a typical office setting with framed certificates on the walls. My
credentials have taken residence in my head, my hands, and my heart (82).”
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| Graduation Day from Medical School, University College Cork, June 1970 |
Works
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