"I can't send him back to that place. This is my father. Please, help me take care of him." The rollercoaster of emotions of that moment threatened to run me over again even now: struggling to stuff down the frustration of having to adjust course after I was THISCLOSE to discharging him back to his skilled nursing facility, to the remorse washing over me as I spotted tears in this herculean man's eyes while he squeezed the limp hand of D's half paralyzed body. How could I not be moved by the determination in his melodic Arabic voice as he made the decision to take on caring for his father who was suffering from a recent stroke?
Tag: Hospitalist
What’s Even the Point?
"What's even the point?"
I turned to X and took in the deep breath he couldn't through his wet mask.
In this moment, I was supposed to reassure him.
He has worth.
He is loved.
There's a reason he's still here.
But that script felt too empty. Too easily cast aside by a fellow weary, cynical mind.
"I don't know, X."
How Many Times Do I Have to Tell You?
With a startle, he woke up. "Ah, yes. I fell asleep waiting for you! It's about time you came! Now, I want to talk to you about getting better." Nodding my head, the words I'd been mulling over for the last 2 hours finally started to take shape. How many different ways do you have to tell someone he's dying before it takes hold? How many times do you have to repeat yourself before the reality of the situation settles in?
This is All Your Fault
"All you doctors want is my money. But you don't care about me, you don't care about anyone! And that damn surgeon... that podiatrist who isn't even a real surgeon, and trust me, I know because I'm EDUCATED. He's delaying my surgery because he wants to go golfing. And you probably have your second vacation home that you're trying to pay off. Just making money off of the backs of us common folk. And then you wonder why we hate going to you and refuse to see you at these unnecessary appointments..." For a brief second, the temptation to interject and tell him I was only taking his verbal onslaught in order to pay off my student loans, not my second vacation home engulfed me. But interrupting him would only add fuel to the fire. He was going to be heard, truth be damned.
What Do You Know About Moral Distress?
"If it helps you and the team with your moral distress, I'm happy to touch base with you again in the future. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?" Massaging my temples, I felt the underlying muscles tense as I clenched my jaw to prevent some choice words from coming out. No, I think you've wasted more than enough of my time today. Thank you for showing me how incredibly unhelpful an ethics consultation can be. It's been an education.
The Antidote to the Epidemic of Loneliness
"I can't imagine how hard this has been for you, to always be afraid of getting sick the moment you step foot outside of your house. I see where that would get really lonely at times..." W's dull brown eyes shot up to mine as he mulled over the word I had given him. Would he take this gift or spit it out? No one wants to admit they're alone.
Hard Conversations: That’s Why You’re Here
Admit, discharge, admit, discharge - just moving the meat. In this assembly line, patients get in the way of the ruthless efficiency at which I'm expected to perform. No, not the body that supplies the blood for all the labs that get drawn every morning, ready for me to review so I can plan out the day's course of action - I need that. The actual patient - the one who paddled over white rapids and waterfalls, introduced thousands of students to their love of geology and was a loyal fixture in his friend's life through thick and thin - the one who's trapped in a failing body, I have no time for.
Why Aren’t You More Resilient?
You weren't even alive long enough for me to see your face, little one. But I remember every detail. The overhead page for a pediatric rapid response team to the main lobby. Running into the pediatric social worker as I stepped out of the stairwell, casually adopting her stride as we were pointed outside to … Continue reading Why Aren’t You More Resilient?
I Miss You
"Do you know what it's like to watch your dad try to reassure her for the thousandth time in an hour that he's there, just for her to call out for him again and again? After 70 years of marriage, he can't give her comfort because she doesn't even recognize him! This is killing him! And her! And to see her caged up in that bed is just sickening. No one prepared us for this when they diagnosed her with dementia. NO ONE." Robert patted his daughter's shoulder tentatively, almost as if to ration out his comfort in order for it to last them another day. His weary eyes locked with mine as he quietly begged, "Please do something."
This is Why We Stay, Isn’t It?
As he pulled each supplement and natural remedy out of his reusable cloth bag to show me, outlining the benefits of each item, I wondered how long he had spent standing at his pantry last night.
Carefully selecting and researching how these things could help his wife.
Trying to do his part to help in her healing.
Trying to take back control of this shitty situation.