In this re-posting, there is a greater sense of urgency to see as many patients as possible, and come up with templates for presentation of our cases. No longer are we allowed the luxury of fumbling about with examination techniques. Instead, the focus is now on the way we carry ourselves, and the show we put up as students being examined. Today, I found myself flitting from ward to ward, examining my 'short cases' and ticking them off my list happily. I had to work doubly hard since I missed sch from my bout of flu.
horrors! My patients had become mere walking signs for me. The guy with the huge spleen and lymph nodes; another who had bilateral pneumonia; the auntie who had a pleural effusion likely 2ndary to a malignancy; the uncle with amazing shifting dullness (that even I could elicit) from liver cirrhosis.
Such a fine line exists between seeing enough 'cases' to gain experience, and yet spending time with each patient such that I am not merely 'objectifying' them. This isn't my first such post, and I'm pretty sure it won't be my last.
I am afraid to end up like some of them. There's a whole ward of people who remain hospitalised simply because their family wants them no more. They're waiting for a home to accept them, just somebody, anybody, and then what, I often wonder.
I can understand why some would choose to end their lives in the face of such a situation. What is the point, really? So I can treat your myocardial infarct, or uti, or pneumonia. After which, it's back to the home where you came from. If you are so-called ADL-dependent, you depend on everyone around you for just about everything. They bathe you, feed you, and even turn you around from time to time just so that you won't develop bedsores. At this a stage, one's mental capacity has usually decreased exponentially.
Such existence really scares me. It is bare minimum existence to its maximum. Perhaps he is more aware of his surroundings than he looks. Or maybe not. Anyhow, he has fleeting moments of consciousness, where he remembers yet another medical student requesting for permission to examine him, or perhaps, he remembers another who has shown him some care, compassion and respect.
horrors! My patients had become mere walking signs for me. The guy with the huge spleen and lymph nodes; another who had bilateral pneumonia; the auntie who had a pleural effusion likely 2ndary to a malignancy; the uncle with amazing shifting dullness (that even I could elicit) from liver cirrhosis.
Such a fine line exists between seeing enough 'cases' to gain experience, and yet spending time with each patient such that I am not merely 'objectifying' them. This isn't my first such post, and I'm pretty sure it won't be my last.
I am afraid to end up like some of them. There's a whole ward of people who remain hospitalised simply because their family wants them no more. They're waiting for a home to accept them, just somebody, anybody, and then what, I often wonder.
I can understand why some would choose to end their lives in the face of such a situation. What is the point, really? So I can treat your myocardial infarct, or uti, or pneumonia. After which, it's back to the home where you came from. If you are so-called ADL-dependent, you depend on everyone around you for just about everything. They bathe you, feed you, and even turn you around from time to time just so that you won't develop bedsores. At this a stage, one's mental capacity has usually decreased exponentially.
Such existence really scares me. It is bare minimum existence to its maximum. Perhaps he is more aware of his surroundings than he looks. Or maybe not. Anyhow, he has fleeting moments of consciousness, where he remembers yet another medical student requesting for permission to examine him, or perhaps, he remembers another who has shown him some care, compassion and respect.
i saw dustyskies at 8:47 PM
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