Somewhere near the end of my eight years of surgical training, I was operating with an older female attending surgeon. We were exchanging stories about the traumatic yet awesome experiences of residency.
“Surgery made a man out of me,” she chuckled.
We finished the operation and I headed home later that day.
I thought about the magnitude of that statement. She didn’t need to explain the masculinization that had occurred through her surgical residency — I totally got it. As a female surgeon 25 years my senior, hers had certainly been a more grueling experience, with no work hours regulations and a significantly more cutthroat environment than the current, more closely monitored world of surgical training today.