As an educator, my students reacted not to the universities I attended, the degrees I earned, or my experience in the profession, but to my enthusiasm, creativity, compassion and respect. Assuming that I understood the material, they cared more about how I treated them as individuals.
This is a story about failures. First, it’s about my inability as a pediatric hospice physician to do the one most important job in this tender space. Second, it’s about well-meaning, loving parents’ inability to do their part in that job.
Jacob was a smart, funny, elementary-age kid, great with Legos.
Dear Pulse readers,
I was a medical student, nearing the end of my very first clinical rotation–surgery–and I’d had enough.
I’d made a breast-cancer patient weep as I’d unsuccessfully tried to extract blood from an artery in her wrist.
September More Voices: Bedside Manner Read More »
Your first summer on Earth was the hottest ever on record. I was admitted to the hospital during a cold, early spring, and by the time you were released from the NICU on Easter Monday, it felt like summer already. I had visions of spending full days outdoors, encouraging a love of nature from the very beginning, but it was impossible to spend time outdoors after 9:00 a.m. without both of us overheating.
Your First Summer On Earth: A Letter to My Baby Read More »
The other day, our air-conditioner went out. We live in Austin, Texas, so the house quickly became an oven. Opening the windows and turning on fans didn’t help, since the outdoor temperature was over 100 degrees F. The situation was not just an inconvenience—it required urgent action. We were able to get the air conditioner fixed, but it was expensive. We have resources. Others do not.
Maybe I can adopt her?
This thought awakened me from my sleep. Earlier in the day, I had treated a little girl, Carla, who was brave enough to tell me about the horrible abuse and neglect she’d suffered, and whose skin and bones were ravaged with injuries that silently told the same traumatic story. Recalling these details, which I had carefully documented, I understood that I’d fulfilled my professional role, but wondered if I could do more.
The Toll of Caring Read More »
“Sure, it’s not like I’ve got a busy day.”
The tiny woman with translucent skin smiled up at me from her hospital bed. Finally, I’d successfully recruited another study participant. But, she informed me, “No research should be done without proper introductions.” The woman before me shook off her role as Participant #14 and became simply who she was. Let’s call her Eleanor.
we enter
there is
one emaciated body, encased in ivory blankets
and
one clear-walled plastic bag
hanging from the edge of the bed, ominously filled with red liquid
i feel my stomach churn
Neuro Consult No. 2 Read More »
During a busy clinic, my eighteen-year-old texted concerns of sudden torrential rains causing flash flooding in our yard, with potential basement flooding. Centuries ago, our backyard was swampland. Now it is developed land and a flood plain.
This can’t be happening to me, I thought. Yet here I was, on a gurney being wheeled into a cath lab for an angioplasty and possible stent.
This can’t be happening, I thought again.
But it was.
A little background: I have always thought of myself as healthy.
Lessons From the Heart Read More »
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