Thursday, 5/22/97 Real Bruins Resident Dr. Taaly Silberstein
juggles 36-hour shifts at the UCLA Medical Center with raising two
young children
By Carol McKay Daily Bruin Contributor At 6:30 a.m. Tuesday, Dr.
Taaly Silberstein wakes up to a big day ahead of her. Things would
have been much better if she was waking up in her own bed. Lying on
a hospital bunk bed, the 27-year-old slept only one hour the night
before, unless you count the 15-minute nap she indulged in before
making another round to check on patients. For Dr. Silberstein,
"on-call" means 36 hours of "being there, waiting for things to
happen." For a first-year in residence at the obstetrics-gynecology
ward at the UCLA Medical Center, plenty happens. "I faded around 2
this afternoon," she says, after ending her shift, which lasted
from early Monday morning until just before 5 p.m. Tuesday. Taaly
tells stories of being so tired that she sometimes dozes on the
commute home or in meetings, when it is less dangerous, but more
embarrassing. "If you sit me down for longer than a 15-minute
period, I just fall asleep. It just happens. At least when there’s
15 people in the meeting, it’s not as noticeable. But it’s
extremely embarrassing, especially when it’s just me and a higher
doctor and just one other resident. I pretend to be deep in pensive
thought, with my eyes closed," she says with a grin. "But I don’t
think they buy it." But however little sleep she gets, Dr.
Silberstein is able to find bursts of energy in hidden sources:
half a stick of cinnamon gum, the face of a smiling patient
post-surgery, the adrenaline rush on the way to scrub up for a
procedure. Today, the thought that she is leaving work so early –
some days don’t end until 7 p.m. – is enough to recharge Taaly. And
when she returns home to her two children, both glued to Barney’s
face on the TV set, the energy flows most quickly, although it
seems to take the mesmerized kids some time to notice she’s there.
"There was a time in my life when I hated Barney," Taaly says,
motioning to Aviva, 4, and Danny, 20 months, who still haven’t
acknowledged their mother’s presence. "My husband and I decided
that Barney just isn’t for adults. But I’ve learned to love him."
Working such odd and late hours, Taaly knows the stuffed purple
dinosaur can’t be all bad, since he often keeps her children
entertained when she is not available. It has been seven weeks
since Taaly has had a weekend off. Although this weekend she’ll
have to make the drive from her home in the San Fernando Valley to
the hospital both mornings, she is close to ecstatic. "I spend time
with my family. We go to the park," she says, of her plans when
work is not involved. Taaly says her husband Adam, a 28-year-old
working on his doctoral degree in psychology, is "the most
supportive husband" and that she has a lot to thank him for. "If it
wasn’t for Adam, I don’t think I would have made it into medical
school," she says. Taaly, who attended medical school at Loyola,
says that after her first year at UCLA as an undergrad, her chances
of getting into a medical school seemed rather bleak. "I’m not a
hard worker by nature," she says. "I like to get away with as
little as possible." Working toward a degree in cybernetics, Taaly
wasn’t earning very good grades. "Adam said, ‘You’ll never get into
med school with those grades’ and he set out to find me a major
that I would be able to do well in." After significant research,
her future husband decided on psychobiology, and Taaly agreed. All
of this happened the summer after her freshman year at UCLA, when
the two started dating. Having attended the same high school, Taaly
says she used to "hate Adam because he was so obnoxious." But
things changed, and the two got married three days after Taaly took
her last final at UCLA. "I lived at home until the day I got
married," she says. "So a big part of me was like ‘Liberate me!’ I
had to get out of here." Taaly and Adam moved to Chicago, where
they had both been accepted to medical schools. "I loved Chicago.
But I really missed L.A. weather," she says. Taaly and Adam missed
Los Angeles so much that they named their dog L.A., "to remind us
of home. But now that we’re back here, we think that’s kind of
lame." Taaly has lived in Los Angeles almost all her life, and was
born in the hospital in which she currently works. "I’m trying to
find out if the doctor who delivered me still works here," she
says. "I keep trying to get my records but they just keep sending
me stuff about ear infections I had when I was three or four."
Taaly spent the first eight months of her residency at Olive View
Hospital and will finish the year at the UCLA Medical Center. She
spends her time as an intern assisting surgeries, helping in the
delivery room and caring for patients before and after surgery.
Despite her lack of sleep, signaled by periodic yawning, Taaly
becomes alert upon entering a patient’s room. "Look at you, you’re
awake," she says to a patient. The woman, who had a vaginal
hysterectomy that morning – a procedure for which Taaly served as
second assistant – says she is having severe back pains and wants
to know whether she can sit up in bed. Taaly is gentle with the
woman, explaining to her and her husband, who is looking at the
room’s view of Westwood, why she is experiencing the symptoms. "Let
your body be the guide," Taaly says, encouraging her patient to try
to eat only if she feels able. The three in the hospital room –
doctor, patient and husband – all tired from the emotional,
physical and psychological stresses of the morning’s operation, end
up in laughter, making jokes about how the elderly patient has
aged. The nurturing role Taaly plays with patients under her care
stems from her own role as a mother, and Taaly says she can
especially empathize with patients in the delivery room. "I know
what a contraction feels like," she says with a grin. Taaly, who
took a year off in medical school to spend time with her newborn
daughter Aviva, cherishes her job as a mother as much as her job as
a doctor. And when she returns home to her children, it becomes
very obvious. A celebration occurs when both parents are home, with
Danny and Aviva unable to contain themselves. Dancing along to the
songs of Barney, they shout and squeal with delight. After changing
into jeans, their mother joins them in the living room, and casual
talk begins with the intention of discouraging ketchup sandwiches.
"I don’t like it when you eat so much ketchup," Taaly says to her
daughter, as Aviva drowns a hot dog in the condiment. "But I love
ketchup," Aviva reasons. "Then I guess one (sandwich) is okay,"
Taaly concludes, the topic of conversation moving on to Danny’s
messy eating habits. Taaly’s laid-back lifestyle at home is very
different from her tense work environment. At the hospital, things
are never messy. "The pace is a hectic one," Taaly says. And she’s
right. Doctors walk the halls at a brisk pace. On the way to
Tuesday morning’s hysterectomy, Taaly and her friend Dr. Said
Daneshmand are slowing down a frustrated doctor close on their
heels in the stairwell. When Taaly and Said, dressed in white lab
coats and pale blue scrubs, finally make a turn out from the path
ahead of him, the doctor makes an audible sigh of relief. But trips
in the stairwell are the only times Taaly’s pace slows during her
day. Gossiping about office matters, she and Said take a trip to
the cafeteria, where they discuss the accuracy of TV’s "ER." "My
brother’s a doctor, and he loves it. I think they portray doctors
in a very positive light," says Said, the chief resident of Taaly’s
ward. Just weeks away from finishing his internship, he is "very
excited." "It’s not an escape for me to come home and watch ‘ER’
because sometimes we deal with that. It’s much better for me to
watch ‘Seinfeld,’ " he says. Taaly’s viewing patterns have less
philosophy behind them. "I used to watch ‘ER’ with my husband," she
says. "But now I don’t have time." 3:30 a.m. – Taaly checks the
progress of her patient’s contractions minutes before she delivers
the woman’s third child, a son. 2 a.m. – Taaly consults with her
supervisor on a case involving monozygotic vs. dizygotic twins.
(below)3 a.m. – Hours into her on-call shift, Taaly dozes for a few
minutes on a couch in the Residents/ Nurses Lounge. GENEVIEVE
LIANG/Daily Bruin 7 p.m. – Taaly slices Aviva’s hot dogs during
dinner. Hot dogs are Aviva’s favorite food. 6 p.m. – Still in her
scrubs from the hospital, Taaly kisses her daughter Aviva when she
returns home, while her dog L.A. waits for affection. 6:15 p.m. –
Taaly’s free time after work is spent relaxing with her kids (from
left) Aviva, 4, and Danny, 20 months.