I graduated from high school in June of 1972 and was headed to college in the fall. I was happy and healthy . . . until I wasn’t. In the middle of that summer, I was overcome by extreme joint swelling and pain.
My pediatrician referred me to a specialist at Duke Medical Center. When Dr. Smith came into the exam room, he greeted me warmly. He listened attentively to my story—nodding, taking notes, a look of concern on his face.
A Summer of Contrasts Read More »
We stood in a line and palpated his thyroid. We then reformed the line and asked him to follow our fingers with his eyes. One last time we formed a line and listened to his irregular heartbeat. As we left his room, we each shook his hand and thanked him. I was the last to exit, and as I walked out, I heard him let out a long sigh. I turned around and saw him sink into his bed.
The Greatest Teachers Read More »
Editor’s Note: This piece tied for first place in the Pulse writing contest, “On Being Different.”
“That seems like a dumb way to die.”
“Why would anyone choose to do that to themselves?”
I hear my medical-school classmates pose these questions as we learn about how an acetaminophen overdose can cause painful, fatal damage to the liver. How each metabolite can tear apart a liver cell. How it takes hours or even days for the full extent of the overdose to be felt.
I sit silently, uninterested in engaging in the conversation. My mind wanders back to the cold February night nearly fifteen years ago that brought me to my suburban emergency room.
Invisibly Different Read More »
We gathered around Mr. Ramon’s bed. His breathing was labored, his skin looked pale, and his eyes were shut tight. Everyone had the same thought on their minds.
Please let me translate for my family.
The voice came from the back of the crowd. A young lady stepped forward and introduced herself as his granddaughter. She looked like she was still in high school.
The Love of a Granddaughter Read More »
Monday, August 28, 1:15 pm
Chapel Hill, NC
“Remain inside the building until further notice.”
The security alert on my phone screen is terse. Part of me is annoyed by its tone—long on commands, short on details. Sitting safely in my car after visiting a hospice patient, twenty miles from UNC’s hospital and university in Chapel Hill, I ignore the text, chalking it up to an overreaction by the security department.
The next alert, twenty minutes later, gets my attention. There’s an “armed and dangerous” intruder on campus.
We regret to inform you…
My heart sank into the depths of my stomach, and it felt like it was being digested slowly by my stomach acid. I dropped my phone and pinched myself hoping to wake up from this cruel nightmare. I couldn’t feel my pinch. I was completely numb.
The unimaginable idea of not matching to a residency program had suddenly become a reality. It felt as if years of hard work had instantly evaporated.
Darkness Amidst Celebration Read More »
I’ve heard my grandparents say, “If you spend some time with certain doctors, half the disease will be gone.” They were the first to teach me the importance of good doctor-patient communication, and that when a doctor listens closely, it makes a huge difference. Years later, in my early days as a junior doctor, this lesson was driven home to me by one of my patients.
The Healing Connection Read More »
No one tells you when you are having surgery that the surgeon is not the most important person in the room. In terms of safety, it’s the anesthesiologist. I learned this the hard way.
The Most Important Person in the Room Read More »
Editor’s Note: This piece tied for first place in the Pulse writing contest, “On Being Different.”
I learned from my grandfather how to lie to doctors the same way that baby birds learn chirping: by mimicry.
“All healed,” I would translate for my grandfather at appointments. “I used to smoke, but not anymore.” “The pain is very faint.”
A good apprentice, I knew that he was lying, and I translated it anyway. I was eight years old, and a fast learner.
Truth in Translation Read More »
“But I wanted to learn more about amyloidosis.” No: the stated goal of Physical Diagnosis Rounds is for the intern to become more comfortable interacting with any patient, better at building bond every time. The instruction sheet explains that we are only secondarily in the market for giant spleens and diastolic murmurs, much as those captivate.
Physical Diagnosis Rounds Read More »
I’ve always had a streak of perversity that pops up when someone wants me to do their bidding. That’s why I fought constantly with my mother, why I insisted on speaking broken Spanish to a Venezuelan official whose English was flawless, and why I refused to smile one night at work when I was starting an IV.
Just a Little Smile Read More »
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