The cuckoo's nest

Momma said there'd be days like this, but she never said there would be so many in a row. Being a resident in July is somewhat akin to being a momma bird: lots of mouths to feed (interns, subI, med students), all squawking (yes, that's spelled right, I just looked it up) for your attention at the same time because no one has quite figured out how to walk on two gangly legs yet. And getting your feathers all ruffled up, making lots of noise yourself, if an outsider dares to threaten your young. I've lost count of how many times I've heard the acquiescing fear in my intern's voice with the receiver to his/her ear. "Tell him if he doesn't like it he can talk to me." And that's that. Nobody messes with my baby birds.
This momma hen business is exhausting but also rewarding. I confess that it's crossed my mind to kick them from the nest once or twice; however, I can't help but beam with pride when one gets a snippet of praise or a pat on the back for a job well done from the attending. At this point, everything they know they learned from me, so surely I can take a weensy bit of credit. And there's nothing like the "eureka" moments in their eyes when they do something for the first time. I did that. I did.
So even though it's just halfway through the month and I am draaaaaggin', I know even the hard parts are worth it. Worth every minute.