The past few weeks has been a blur of events... my bed being the silent witness of my frustrations and tears. It just dawned on me how I really am not fit for "politicking". I've dreamt of being a doctor, someone who'd be God's hands in healing people. That dream came true... It became reality. You see in my dream, I didn't worry of the "financial capacity" of my patients. In my dream, I was able to treat the people who need it most. In my dream, the doctors worked with each other. In my dream, people got well. Families were close. Families cared for each other.People understood that we had to take care of a critically ill patient first before attending to patients who are well enough to wait. In my dream, in my dream. That was just in my dream.
In reality, I can't even give medicines to patients who cannot pay. I am limited to what they are financially capable of. In real life, there is this unspoken rule of seniorship among doctors, which in truth I do understand. What bothers me most is that one must really expect you to do a comprehensive truthful history in a patient who is in distress and family members who are in a panic. Maybe I do have to sharpen my skills in that. But then, if I am expected to do a full neurologic history and examination of the patient while trying to stabilize the patients condition and balancing your time with other patients who are ill at ease waiting at the emergency room, and then have a hard time endorsing the patient to the one who is in training for such specialty...... it really makes me want to hit the "pause" button and pray that I may be given multiple hands, ears, lips, feet so that I can attend to all. And if this problem cannot be solved by cloning myself, maybe it could be solved by having other residents at the emergency room... but tell me, I beg, why would blocking the entry of residents (i.e. more hands) solve this problem. I do know that there is a flaw in the system. Why not correct that flaw? In reality the emergency room is n emotionally charged room. I understand that. I do feel that. I cannot fault the patients/ relatives for yelling at me. I do feel degraded. Even more degraded of hearing the news... I really feel bad... and in the first time since I've entered medicine, I do not feel like doing my work. Maybe I could do this in a different way, a different environment.
My birthday wish then... that all will end well. That through this darkness I may see the light that will guide me. Lead me.