It’s funny, my roommates must hate me for this. Three times a week, I take over the kitchen, from 7-9 pm, almost routine, when I take on the greatest task at hand for the day: what will I cook for the next few days? A greater task than studying (probably because I get some say in the matter), taking time in the kitchen is one of the non-negotiables I promised I would hold onto when I started medical school. Much like many people have working out, quality time with their family/friends, or that one hobby they can’t put down, that is what cooking is for me.
I’ve been working with a trauma surgeon, who between surgeries and clinic, we talk a lot about cooking. Frankly, I was surprised he’d even consider cooking at all, given the lifestyle of trauma surgery, but he too finds the time. One day, after exchanging recipes, we’ve started to talk about his interest in cooking and surgery, and if there were any commonalities. “Process” he quickly remarked. Both require valuable time and energy, and the end result requires much appreciation for the movements made from start to finish. A change in the recipe halfway through (an added spice) will completely redirect the results. Much like surgery, what you do in the moment will affect patient outcomes. And often in trauma, those decisions aren’t pre-written; it comes down to experience and intuition.
“And cleanliness.” He quickly pointed out. In both fields you absolutely NEED a sterile environment.
I’m definitely going into my next meal with newfound appreciation.
