Everything is new at our surgicenter: new building with new furniture, new video cameras and new OR equipment. Even the roaches are new!

The OR hallways have windows. Right outside OR 2 is a beautiful view of a supermarket parking lot. I hope the sunlit halls help avert my seasonal affective disorder as the days shorten.

There's also an integrated video system. I can see on a monitor what's going on in my other OR. I can determine when the resident has completed the wound closure, when the patient has left and when the room is clean. Sometimes I can even get SportsCenter! There is even an option of using a headset with a microphone so I can dialogue with staff in the other room and answer questions pertaining to the next case. Sometimes I see things I don't want to see, like the scrub nurse flipping me the bird because the last case took too long or, worse yet, the circulator messing with my music playlist.

I think I'll pass on the headset. It doesn't lend itself well to my ADHD. I have enough trouble focusing on 1 room. Also I believe my principle responsibility is the knife in my hand now, not whether I want a 34- or 38-inch tourniquet next door.

The unfamiliar is indeed stressful
During my first few ventures to the new OR, I got lost a lot. I had to use my phone GPS to find the men's room. Twice I couldn't even find the exit to leave the premises. Thankfully I was able to follow the mice droppings leading to the outside.

Not to complain, but my OR video printer is located in another ZIP code and there's no cafeteria (hello, Fiber One snack bars). Plus, after several years of working with the same crew, it was a bit stressful to see so many new faces in the OR. Some familiar nurses assured me that my new staff was fully licensed, had passed their drug screens and didn't mind working with an Irish Catholic surgeon/comedian.

'You almost finished?'
Some changes were hard to swallow. I really was surprised at the pressure to speedily perform. As a teacher, I let residents operate considerably under close supervision. My first day was peppered with several interludes into my OR from the head nurse, who repeatedly inquired: 'You almost finished?'

Tension reached crescendo proportions when I was told that if I didn't start my last case before 3 p.m., I'd be bumped to the big hospital, I'd lose my privileges and my first-born would be held ransom.

The outpatient center has more patient requirements than the FBI entrance exam. Unless the patient has a BMI less than 40, is normotensive, has minimal cardiac risk factors and is a Pisces who has never been to Haiti, he is "disqualified" and must have his surgery at the main hospital.

Change carries many positive aspects and I already see the efficiency of operation greatly increased from my prior days in the big hospital. We all will finish earlier and get home to our loved ones sooner. That is worth making the long trek to my printer.